Blind_Watcher

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 82 - TBD - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 82 - TBD - Part One

Preoccupied with watching Sebet ply her craft, I didn’t notice Mud’s presence until he stepped into the light of Sebet’s magical lantern. Awkwardly squatting on the blood-slick floor, he began poking about the small pile of severed fingers, toes and flayed skin Sebet had taken from Horangi.

Initially irritated by Mud’s intrusion, I decided that there might be a sick sense of poetic justice in forcing the Horangi to watch as Mud consumed his discarded body parts in front of him. Leaving Mud be, I turned my attention back toward Sebet and the Horangi.

“Tyrant?” Mud had retrieved something from the pile and was holding it up for my inspection. No doubt acting under the assumption that he would need my permission before stuffing it in his mouth and eating it.

Suppressing my irritation and anger, I waved him away dismissively.

“Tyrant?” Mud repeated, this time more insistently, straining himself to raise his arm higher.

“WHAT?!” I snarled, rounding on the puny reject with my fist raised and half a mind to put him out of our collective misery.

Mud cowered like a beaten dog, his dark eyes looking up at me with earnest regret and confusion. Too stupid to know what he had done-

What had he done?

Mud was just standing there, trying to show me something...What was so infuriating about that?

I closed my eyes and took a long deep breath.

Opening my eyes again, I could now see that there was a small wooden talisman in Mud’s outstretched hand. Threaded on a simple leather cord, I vaguely recalled having seen it worn about the Horangi’s neck.

“It isn’t magical,” Sebet commented distractedly, grinning to herself as she slowly worked a barbed needle into the Horangi’s left eye. “Oh! My mistake! It is magical. It carries a Cultivation enchantment for...mental clarity? One moment, that didn’t seem quite right...” Sebet stared intensely at the Horangi for several seconds in silence while twisting the barbed needle ever so slightly. As if she was a safecracker honing in on the correct combination. “Mental fortitude!” Sebet declared proudly. “He was hoping it would prove sufficient to...to...” Her expression hardened almost immediately. “To protect him while he feasts on imprisoned Demons? Ah...That was the deal they made.”

“Demons?” I reached for the talisman so I could inspect it more closely. “Why would he need the talis-” The instant my fingers touched the wood, waves of exhaustion crashed through my body and mind. Leaving me feeling thoroughly abused and beyond exhausted. However, the anger and rage were also gone, providing a moment of clarity.

Drawing the talisman from Mud’s palm with shaking fingers, I fought hard to suppress the early stages of an entirely justified, but otherwise unproductive, panic attack.

Someone had been inside my mind!

The enormity of the violation filled me with a sensation of near-overwhelming revulsion, and once it had settled, it was replaced by RAGE!

With a thought, the spear materialised from my Storage Ring. Disgusted at the thought of touching it, I used my Earth Affinity to make it float unaided.

“Let me make one thing absolutely clear!” I growled, barely holding back the thoughts demanding I succumb to my more destructive impulses. “If you EVER try to mess with my mind again I WILL DESTROY YOU!”

A red-skinned human with white hair and wearing silver-white robes tumbled out of the spear, seeming to appear from thin air. His slitted pupils, shark-like teeth and protruding horns left no doubts in my mind that he was the Demon Lord I had imprisoned within the spear. Or, at the very least, some form of limited projection.

Sebet looked on with naked curiosity, studying the Demon Lord with intense interest and baring her own teeth in a show of intimidation and willingness to assist in carrying out my threat. “Gric will want in on this!” She purred dangerously, creating a Breach with a wave of her hand.

The instant the breach formed, Gric stepped through and immediately began stalking toward the Demon Lord. “YOU DARE?!” He snatched the Demon Lord by the throat, effortlessly lifting him off the floor and holding him at eye level with only a few inches between them.

“I do as-urk!” The Demon Lord’s confidence evaporated as Gric began to squeeze. In a panic, the Demon Lord struck at Gric with his fists and feet, launching several destructive Techniques in rapid succession.

Just as quickly as he was injured, Gric’s torn flesh knit itself back together. “BEG!” He snarled, fangs bared and eager to rip into the Demon Lord’s face. “BEG THE TYRANT’S FORGIVENESS!!! THROW YOURSELF AT HIS MERCY, FOR! I! HAVE! NONE!!!”

Sebet cackled with amusement and waited to see how the Demon Lord would react.

Striking a downward blow on Gric’s forearm to try and break or disrupt his hold, the Demon Lord’s form blurred for a moment. A loud crunching sound echoed through the chamber as his body abruptly moved to one side while his neck remained firmly locked within Gric’s fingers.

A series of more muted crunching noises emanated from the Demon Lord’s neck shortly afterwards and his limp body suddenly jerked to life again. “Let me go!” He demanded fiercely, baring his teeth in an attempt to intimidate Gric into compliance.

“No!” Gric hissed back without a shred of fear.

“ENOUGH!” I waved the spear out of my way and fixed the Demon Lord with a glare, gathering my Death Affinity and injecting it into the spear.

The Demon Lord grew deathly still, all vestiges of resistance having evaporated in an instant.

“You will swear Oaths of fealty, obedience and whatever else I can fucking think of!” I growled menacingly. “Because if you don’t, I will end you here and now! AM I UNDERSTOOD?!”

The Demon Lord timidly nodded his head.

Sebet, Gric and I spent the next hour binding the Demon Lord under every conceivable Oath we could think of. By the time we were finished, Sebet’s Contract and Oaths looked like a joke in comparison. A fact she had taken great pains to accomplish.

Even now, I was struggling to hold myself back.

The more time I had been given to consider what had happened, the more violated I felt. If the Demon Lord had been allowed to continue spreading his influence in my mind, everything I had fought for would have been in jeopardy...

I had been seconds away from striking Mud down and almost certainly killing him outright.

The memory-filled me with absolute revulsion.

At least under Enslavement, there was the choice between obedience and pain. This had been different. The decisions felt like they were my own...I hadn’t even considered someone else had been pulling the strings...

Leaving Gric to watch over the Demon Lord and the stone spear, I returned to Yi Gim’s city with Sebet’s projection and Mud in tow.

Standing in the open grounds of Yi Gim’s estate, it didn’t take long for his surviving servants and guards to pass along news of my arrival.

“Apologies, I have not had enough time to-” Yi Gim stopped abruptly, his light-hearted apology all but forgotten. “Is there a problem?” He asked, worriedly scanning our faces for signs of trouble.

“Several...” I grunted awkwardly, unsure of how I should broach the subject. “Sebet?” I motioned for her to take the lead.

“The contracted assassins and betrayal of the Hong clan were only parts of a larger conspiracy,” Sebet explained, presenting a stained scroll she had uncovered from the Horangi lair. “The mastermind employed the shapeshifters known as Horangi to instigate the Beast Tide. The Horangi also manipulated the Monkey Clan into joining the Beast Tide to seek revenge for killings the Horangi had enacted while assuming the form of local Cultivators.”

Yi Gim’s face paled at the first mention of the Horangi and only grew paler as Sebet continued her retelling of events.

“Of course, the Monkey Clan was not intended to keep or even hold the city for any meaningful amount of time,” Sebet continued, flourishing her hands for dramatic effect. “The Horangi had also used their shapeshifting powers to establish a feud between the Monkey Clan and Tiger Clan. They had intended to pit the two clans against one another. Either wiping themselves out or becoming weakened to the point of insignificance.”

Accepting the scroll, Yi Gim scanned its contents with mounting concern. “And the Horangi?” He asked with reluctant optimism. “Can I assume they have been dealt with? Or...-”

“All save the ringleader are dead, Monarch,” Sebet interrupted politely.

Surprised, I looked to Sebet for confirmation.

<Your pet was rather liberal with the instructions you provided while indisposed...> Sebet explained apologetically.

“And this ringleader?...” Yi Gim pressed.

“Currently under guard and in our custody,” Sebet replied reassuringly. “Fit to answer questions, if required.”

Yi Gim nodded in understanding and then turned to address me instead. “Would you relinquish the Horangi to me?” He asked. There was steel in his tone that made it clear that there was a great deal riding on how I decided to answer. Not that it made much of a difference to my intentions.

“Do you have a prison capable of holding it?” I asked in return. More than happy to turn the Horangi over, so long as it wouldn’t be free to escape immediately afterwards.

Without skipping a beat, Yi Gim nodded firmly. “I do.”

<He does.> Sebet confirmed. <At least in his mind, the prison has defences ten times stronger than those originally possessed by the city.>

“Then I have no problems with leaving it in your custody,” I replied and gave Sebet a nod to make a show of my approval as the explanation for what would come next.

A breach opened between Yi Gim and myself. The Horangi's surgically mutilated body was cast through the Breach and landed in an unceremonious heap. The Breach closed again immediately afterwards.

Yi Gim’s face contorted with obvious disgust.

“A byproduct of our interrogation,” Sebet explained apologetically with a smile that undermined the effort.

Yi Gim’s expression hardened and became decidedly neutral. He nodded in thanks and then waved forward one of his retainers. “Take it to the black cells,” he commanded, refusing to look directly at the Horangi as it was clapped in irons and hauled away.

“I intend to take the Tiger Clan away as well,” I stated bluntly, deciding that addressing the issue now would be better than waiting until later. “Even without the Horangi manipulating them, leaving them would likely just cause more problems.”

I was also incredibly curious to discover why there were anthropomorphic Beasts in the first place, and two sources would prove less vulnerable to bias than one.

“The Transcendent Beasts?” Yi Gim qualified before shrugging dismissively. “You may take them with my blessing. Although more reasonable than their unenlightened kin, we have never managed to broker a peace between us. In this time of uncertainty, it is better that they are not a concern.”

It was a rather callous way of talking about sentient sapient beings, but in the circumstances, I couldn’t fault him for it.

“There is something I would like to ask, if I may?” Sebet probed diplomatically.

Yi Gim nodded, motioning that she could continue.

“The Horangi were gifted prisoners as payment for their services,” Sebet explained with mounting enthusiasm. “This is confirmed by verbal accounts as well as the document you now possess,” she pointed to the scroll in Yi Gim’s hands. “The exotic nature of the prisoners themselves could provide a vital clue in identifying the mastermind behind this attack.”

Yi Gim’s composure cracked. “How?” He demanded, raising the scroll and hastily scanning its contents for a second time. Searching for the answer Sebet claimed lay within. “It mentions only specific tastes...” He challenged with disgust before lowering the scroll again.

“One of the prisoners survived,” Sebet replied with a wide smile. “They are in no state as of this moment to answer our questions. However, their existence provides the opportunity to narrow the potential list of suspects.”

Yi scowled and stared at Sebet impatiently, waiting for her to be on with it.

“These Horangi, they are considered quite rare, yes?” Sebet asked, deliberately edging around the answer Yi Gim wanted.

“They are,” Yi Gi replied curtly. “In all my years as Monarch, I have seen only one with my own eyes.”

Sebet nodded confidently. “Their nature as shapeshifters would ensure as much. But tell me, what about Oni?”

<Oni?> I asked, struggling to keep up with Sebet’s sudden shift in focus.

<A type of Ogre from the folklore of your world.> Sebet explained with a hint of confusion. No doubt having taken that knowledge from my mind.  “Also known as demons or devils?> She projected images pulled from memories I had nearly forgotten existed, and a number I sorely wished she had not seen. However, her claim held merit beyond just the physical. Which was good, considering the prisoner’s miserable state. The prisoner had also ‘felt’ like an Ogre in the same way the Horangi had.

Yi Gim was slow to react, seemingly as confused by Sebet’s abrupt shift in focus as I had been. “They are rare...” He hedged but began to frown, knitting his brows together as he began making connections I was not aware of.

<Patience, Great One, all will become clear.> Sebet promised appeasingly.

“You are insinuating my ally, Ouji Akira, is responsible?” Yi Gim asked darkly.

“Of course not,” Sebet replied with a smirk. “Just that whoever IS responsible has access to both his realm and yours. Although it is quite likely a fellow Monarch and ally is responsible,” she insisted. “Only a friendly face would require so much chaos and collateral damage to justify and facilitate their rule. Only a close ally would be positioned to take advantage of the family members who survived the slaughter, seizing their territories and the Realm at large...”

Yi Gim appeared to have grown physically ill, and I couldn’t blame him for it. Sebet had raised one of the immense weaknesses of trivialising the Supremacy Challenges. The trading of territories functioned only because of trust. And that trust could be wielded as a weapon to stab an unsuspecting scion in the back. Taking them for all they were worth and leaving no witnesses.

Sebet wasn’t finished. She was only waiting for Yi Gim to finish processing what he had been told before dropping a far more dangerous truth. Something I had learned already, but now realised, explained the presence of the surviving Oni that had been held prisoner.

“Whoever is pulling the strings has access to imprisoned Demons.” Sebet’s claim cut just as deep as we had expected. Causing Yi GIm to stagger several steps backward before regaining control over himself and reasserting a semblance of composure. “Impossible...” He breathed incredulously in denial.

We had witnessed the liberation of an imprisoned Demon Lord only a handful of hours prior. I didn’t doubt Yi Gim would come around, but I could understand why he would prefer to live in denial.

“The Hong clan had a Demon Lord squirrelled away,” I commented, forcing Yi Gim to address the reality of our situation. “Is it so hard to believe that a Monarch has done the same with weaker targets and on a larger scale?”

Yi Gim winced but I could see he was already coming around. In a position like his, he couldn’t just pretend that threats didn’t exist because he found them upsetting.

Sure enough, Yi Gim took a deep calming breath and stowed away the scroll within his Storage Ring. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” he said, wearing a strained smile. “With things such as they are, may I ask if your offer of sanctuary is still on the table? I believe there is sufficient evidence to now justify this measure without the need for debate.”

“Of course,” I replied supportively.

<I have recommendations that would need tacit approval.> Sebet interjected. <If I may?>

I nodded and motioned for Sebet to take the lead again.

“The city that served as the Hong clan’s base of power could prove a valuable teaching tool for a future Monarch and their attendants,” Sebet suggested with an open smile. “Of course, we would sweep the territory to ensure certain threats are eliminated, and the populace adheres to the Tyrant’s laws.”

“If there is no danger, then what will there be to learn?” Yi Gim asked hesitantly. Not immediately adverse to the concept but he obviously held several reservations.

“There is more to running an empire than spilling the blood of one’s enemies,” Sebet replied calmly with a faint teasing tone. “It will provide an opportunity to study economics, politics and broader social interactions in a comparatively low-risk setting. It should also be noted that the locals will not automatically abide by the edicts of their new ruler. Presenting the opportunity to learn the finer points of diplomacy, specifically in regards to obtaining leverage when violence is absolutely not an option.”

Repeating and rephrasing her point appeared to bear fruit, causing Yi Gim to reconsider.

“And, of course, you would be free to provide or withhold advice on your own initiative,” Sebet observed, eyes flashing with anticipation of imminent victory. “Just as you intended before,” she reminded him.

Yi Gim remained silent for the better part of a minute before appearing to make up his mind. “Alright,” he agreed with minor signs of reluctance. “May I ask an additional favour?” He asked, directing the question toward me rather than Sebet.

“You may,” I agreed amiably.

Yi Gim bowed slightly as a show of gratitude. “I am in immediate need of resources to train new guards and servants and accelerate the Cultivation of those who will remain behind. Would it be possible to take the Hong clan’s treasury as an advance payment for our previous arrangement regarding the Alchemists' recruitment?”

“I may want to keep samples of certain materials,” I hedged, erring on the side of transparency. “Otherwise, I see no problem with it,” I agreed. “After the territory is secured, your people can take inventory and I will send the materials directly to you. Does that sound agreeable?”

“Most agreeable,” Yi Gim confirmed, breathing a little easier and losing a handful of the deeper wrinkles from around his eyes.

I remembered the business I had been conducting with the Oba clan and figured it would be worth offering another mutually beneficial business opportunity. “If there are more Beast eggs available for trade, I would be willing to buy them for a good price, or offer materials in trade.”

Yi Gim was momentarily taken aback but rallied quickly. “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

“Not particularly,” I admitted. “However, higher tiers would be preferable. Although I am open to taking lower tiers as well. I am promoting the recovery of the clan of Cultivators you helped recruit for me. Bonding with Beasts is one of the steps I am taking in that endeavour.”

Yi Gim nodded in understanding and absently fussed with the Storage Ring on his right hand. “Hatching and then Bonding with powerful Beasts requires access to rich sources of matching Affinities...”

<He wants another favour but knows it is too much to ask. He does not wish to overreach and unravel all that has been established thus far.> Sebet prompted.

“I am willing to provide access to your people, under the same conditions we have agreed upon already,” I stated magnanimously. “Although, any Beasts that are hatched will be required to make Oaths as well. I have been experiencing a discipline issue with my Abyssal Serpent, Kwan, and would prefer to avoid potentially dangerous incidents where possible.”

“Oh! Of course! That is a perfectly reasonable request, given the circumstances!” Yi Gim agreed with a combination of extreme relief and excitement. “I have only a few eggs set aside and already promised to younger members of my family. However! I am more than willing to serve as an intermediary to the reputable merchant halls of the Realm. Our previous dealings have already made quite the stir in certain circles, so I am certain they will prove quite accommodating of your request.”

“It’s a deal then,” I agreed.

After finalising preparations for the transfer, Yi Gim provided me with a new communication talisman and a manual detailing their creation so I could make my own.

Before Sebet’s projection ran its MP dry, I had her deliver a message to Gric.

He was to take the Demon Lord’s projection and the spear to a newly isolated territory and leave them there. I hoped that the isolation would give the Demon Lord cause to reflect upon his poor choices. If not, I was more than willing to make things far more unpleasant. Destroying the Demon Lord outright wasn’t off the table.

With nothing requiring my immediate presence, I gathered Kwan and then returned to my Realm.

Recent events had given me more than enough cause to revisit the shrine and purge my Heart Demons. So that was exactly what I intended to do.

Igniting the incense, I assumed a meditative pose in the centre of the floor and took several deep breaths.

After spitting out a golf ball-sized globule of ichor, I tensed in anticipation for the gut-wrenching torrent that would follow. Only to be left kneeling on the floor for several long awkward minutes before realising that was all there was going to be.

Relieved and also deeply concerned, it took the better part of an hour to come to grips with my conflicting emotions.

I was relieved that purging my Heart Demons had been so easy. However, I was also deeply concerned that my more questionable actions leading up to the events involving the Demon Lord had been made without external interference. My choices and actions had been entirely my own.

For peace of mind, I remained in the shrine and meditated for a couple of hours.

Relocating both groups of Transcendent Beasts was going to take the better part of a week at its current rate. So, with a small degree of reluctance, I set about assembling a mass transportation device.

Little more than a giant stone plate embedded with mana stones and enchanted with the Spatial Breach Spell, the mass transportation device would accelerate the relocation efforts up to a hundredfold. The main limiting factor was the mana stones themselves, which were easy enough to replace.

Even with the sustained Breach providing near limitless travel, the relocation still took two days to complete. At a certain point, the monkeys and tigermen simply couldn’t be coaxed to move any faster. The fear of the unknown was just too great, as for the tigermen, they had serious concerns that they were walking into an ambush.

The extra time allowed me to amend my plans with the Oba clan and inform them of my intent to provide Beast eggs for their healthy clan members and the Affinity-rich locations to hatch them. The news seemed to have made up for the unease and uncertainty experienced during my unexplained absence.

The subjugation of Divine Trident City, the former power base of the Hong clan, went faster than expected but was not without issues. The Hong clan members within the territory had rebelled and taken control of the city in a near-bloodless coup before the territory had changed hands. However, the success of their rebellion had given them an undeserved feeling of invincibility.

Gric approached the highest-ranking family members first and then worked his way down through the hierarchy. Each man and woman was given the same choice for themselves and their immediate families. Swear the Oaths or face exile.

The majority of the primary family line attempted violence, which earned immediate exile. Or chose exile of their own accord. The branch families proved more pragmatic, opting to take the Oaths and reorganise into new minor clans after negotiating for a portion of the clan’s former wealth for themselves.

Word of what had happened to the Hong spread quickly within the city and the lesser clans and sects were quick to bend the knee for fear of losing their treasures, lands, or members. Especially once it became obvious that everyone, from the lowest beggar to the highest nobles, would be bound by the same Oaths.

Performing recruitment and extracting Oaths from the general population was a much smoother affair. The common folk lacked Cultivation to begin with and had no preconceived hangups regarding the swearing of Oaths. Even after the effects of the Oaths became known, the common folk remained largely indifferent. Of the opinion that honest men and women had nothing to fear under the heavens. However, it did present a rising need for gainful employment.

According to Gric’s observations, there were few beggars, but many thieves, and against his expectations, the majority of the thieves had chosen to take the Oaths over being exiled. Expressing a desire to become honest men and women now that they had been given a second chance. The only problem was a shortage of available sources for legitimate employment.

An issue Yi Gim’s people would need to address in the near future, but was forestalled by temporarily employing the reformed thieves as custodians for the city. Putting them to work repairing damage caused during the coup and generally cleaning the city.

True to my word, I sent the Cultivation materials taken from the Hong clan to Yi Gim alongside a large shipment of Spiritual Jade to serve as payment for the Beast eggs. Yi Gim would probably keep most of the jade to use in repairing and replacing the Arrays and Formations damaged in the attack, but that was his concern, not mine.

I had continued my Cultivation training but often found myself more interested in watching my children’s lessons rather than undertaking lessons of my own. Hearing how talented they were never got old and filled me with an immense degree of satisfaction

Lash had taken to attending their lessons for the same reasons, making it that much harder for me to remain on task instead of bonding over our children’s continued development.

It wasn’t until Lash suggested helping Suzy with her training that I found a comfortable middle ground. Prone to becoming over-excited and losing control over her augmented strength, I received no shortage of bruises to fuel the development of the Iron Titan Body.

Despite my relative complacency, the threat posed by the beetlemen remained at the forefront of my mind. They had not returned to the city or made attempts at a second invasion of my Realm. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were making preparations of their own.

Each day I delayed our counteroffensive added more levels and more recruts to our forces. Increasing our chances for victory through strength of arms. Of course, this was assuming the enemy wasn’t doing something similar.

I had realised early on that the beetlemen wouldn’t be the only danger we would face. If my worst fears were realised, we would be fighting Slaves beyond counting as well.

I briefly considered turning the Demon Lord against our enemy but decided against it. Even bound by Oaths, his powers were too much of a wild card. Furthermore, it had taken a direct immediate threat made with the Death Affinity to bring him into line. This was a problem because only Kwan and I had that particular Affinity.

At least, for now.

I had been considering the potential consequences of assigning a Cultivator as one of my champions. If the addition of the Grimoire of Flesh functioned the same as it had for me, the Cultivator would gain Affinities matching the core element or nature of each Spell. Assuming it worked at all.

The biggest problem was that the Cultivators didn’t have Classes or information panels from the other System. So it was unclear whether they would even qualify as valid subjects for the Ability.

I decided to pay Zhu Min, the Daemonic Cultivator, a visit. She had been engaged in deep meditation when I last checked in on her, so we hadn’t had the opportunity to talk.

Zhu Min had been training on her own for quite some time and I was curious to see what progress she had made with controlling her energy-draining Ability.

Unfortunately, Zhu Min was meditating within a special energy gathering Array in her isolated territory when I arrived, so I had to settle for Summoning a projection so we could have a conversation.

“Patriarch!” Zhu Min’s projection hurriedly inclined her head as a sign of respect. “How may I be of assistance?” She asked earnestly. No doubt eager to prove herself, believing she somehow owed me a debt for pushing her onto the path of becoming a Daemonic Cultivator.

“I wanted to see how your control over your Abilities has come along,” I replied calmly while debating whether I should also reveal my ulterior motives.

“Oh!” Zhu Min bobbed her head in understanding and assumed a standing meditation pose. Taking a calming breath and then exhaling, she began slowly moving through the motions of what looked similar to Tai Chi exercises. It was almost certainly something else but had no other frame of reference for the movements and it seemed to fit well enough.

The moment Zhu Min began going through the motions of her exercise, she very slowly projected her internal energy into a surprisingly large area around both of us. While her internal energy came close to me, it came short on all fronts, deliberately held back by Zhu Min’s control.

The small amount of ambient energy in our vicinity was drawn back to Zhu Min as if carried on a strong current. The ambient energy was quickly converted into internal energy and was projected outward, increasing Zhu Min’s reach.

While using my authority to relocate a wild Beast to further test Zhu Min’s limits, it came as a shock when I realised she should not have had internal energy to work with, in the first place. Summoning Cultivators with MP did not provide them with Chi or internal energy.

To make certain, I Summoned a second projection, Zhu Min. Scanning the second projection for traces of internal energy, I only became more confused after confirming the projection was indeed devoid of both Chi and internal energy.

“Is something wrong, Patriarch?” Zhu Min’s second projection asked nervously.

“Join your other projection in the demonstration,” I directed, convinced that I had missed or otherwise overlooked something important.

Zhu Min’s second projection bobbed her head obediently and settled into the same motions as the first projection.

Following every movement, I quickly realised that what I had missed had begun right at the start.

The act of taking in her first breath drew in small, almost negligible amounts of ambient energy. Which was then converted with her Daemon Veins into internal energy. Which allowed Zhu Min to cast a net out of that internal energy to draw in more ambient energy. Like priming a pump, she only needed a small amount of ambient energy to get herself started.

What was particularly interesting was how quickly the ambient energy could be converted into internal energy.

Other Cultivators spent hours carefully and meticulously refining the energy and binding it to their foundation.

Refining energy with a matching Affinity seemed easier, which made it faster as well, but my sample size wasn’t large enough to be certain other factors were not skewing the data. Especially since Pete and Suzy not only had a plethora of Affinities, but also had Inheritances of their own. There was a genuine possibility that I was attributing the effects to the wrong source.

Momoko was such an extreme outlier that using her rapid progress as any sort of reference point was just asking for trouble.

Which left me just about where I had started. Uncertain of what to believe and no clear idea how to begin looking for the answers.

With a sigh, I set my questions aside and exercised my authority to drop a low-tier Beast into one of the empty cages.

After only a moment's hesitation, Zhu Min’s projections latched their nets of internal energy over the Beast. A spectral echo of the Beast was ripped free of its body and torn in two as the projections each sought to draw the spirit into themselves.

Drawn into the bodies of the projections, the sundered halves of the Beast’s spectral form disappeared. Rapidly disintegrating on impact, as if cast into a vat of caustic acid. Or perhaps torn apart by tens of thousands of tiny threads...

Despite being broken apart into raw energy, the remains of the spirit took longer to assimilate than the ambient energy had and didn’t provide as much energy as I had expected.

As best I could determine, the resistance provided by the Beast’s spirit made processing the Beast’s energy less efficient than the otherwise unresisting ambient energy.

Repeating the experiment several more times and arriving at the same outcome, I decided to try something else.

Despite acquiring internal energy, the projections’ bodies were still created from and fuelled by MP. Eventually, the MP would run dry and their bodies would collapse. Curious to see what would happen to the internal energy, I prematurely terminated the second projection.

No longer bound by the form of the second projection, the mass of its internal energy began disseminating into the immediate surroundings. However, before it had time to spread, the remaining projection seized and promptly devoured the energy.

To my immense surprise, the energy was assimilated in a mere handful of seconds.

The tier one Beasts, divided as they had been, had taken close to half a minute to fully internalise into each projection’s foundation. So it was quite a shock to stumble across a potential shortcut to the development of Daemonic Cultivators.

And perhaps others?

There were Cultivation treasures explicitly designed to draw upon Chi and internal energy to fuel their functions. The source of power required appeared directly linked to the degree of explosive power or scale of the effect produced by the treasure.

Unfortunately, the only means I could think of to transfer internal energy to a non Daemonic Cultivator involved the use of a Technique. Which limited the number of people I could call upon to participate in further experiments. If I didn’t include my children, there was only one Cultivator I was aware of who could serve as a candidate.

“Thank you for your patience, Zhu Min, you have put my worst concerns to rest.” I produced a small jade token on a silk cord and pressed it into her hands. “This will allow you to move through the Cultivation territories at will. When you are done meditating, wait for me at Momoko’s Peak.”

The pendant was keyed to several of the most stable Teleportation Arrays I had managed to create thus far. While not as convenient as teleporting through the use of authority, it allowed the crossing of greater territory boundaries that no other Cultivator, except for Lurr, possessed.

“I-I...Uhm...” Zhu Min’s projection stammered, becoming flustered by the unexpected praise. She took a really deep breath and appeared to regain control. “Thank you! Patriarch!” She bowed at the waist coming just shy of the established limit.

It amazed me how the Cultivators were capable of such precise movements, and committed to bowing just shy of the precise degree that would earn my displeasure. It was becoming a source of mild amusement in its own right.

Leaving Zhu Min and her projection behind, I used my authority to travel to Momoko’s Peak.

I had assigned the mountain peak the name after installing the Teleportation Array and linking it to the greater network. While it was possible to travel the Teleportation network without the use of named locations, it was much easier to conceptualise the location when it had one.

Besides, in my mind, it was Momoko’s mountain. The tree that was bound to her soul had claimed the mountain in a very literal fashion by sinking its roots deep and spreading them wide. Going so far as to lay claim to a solid ring of forest at the foot of the mountain as well, coming just shy of the barrier enforced by my authority.

Besides the tree and the Taotie, Feng, I was all alone.

Lurr was visiting his family in Sanctuary, and Momoko was training with the Oba clan alongside Pete and Suzy.

Sending Feng down the mountain with instructions that I was not to be disturbed, I Summoned a projection of Oba Kei. My children’s teacher and the grand elder of the Oba clan.

“My Tyrant! How may-” His wrinkled eyelids flew wide with surprise and his unnaturally bright jade green eyes flashed with astonishment. “Such dense energy!...” He gasped, looking one way and then another with awe. “And such Affinities!...”

While I had not expected such an extreme reaction, I realised that I should have.

The difference between the energy-gathering Arrays established in the city, and those surrounding the mountain and atop the mountain, were like night and day. This was only exacerbated by Momoko’s tree actively enriching the ambient energy with the Wood Affinity. Although saturating would perhaps be a more accurate description.

Coming to his senses, Oba Kei coughed and made a show of bowing in respect. “Apologies, Tyrant, I had thought such disrespectful displays were beyond me at this age,” he apologised awkwardly. “I did not intend any disrespect.”

I dismissed the apology with a casual wave. “It’s fine. There is nothing to forgive. Sometimes I forget how different things are for those not actively involved in my projects.”

Oba Kei’s nervous smile twinged a little as I downplayed our surroundings to something as mundane as a project. Or at least that was my assumption.

“On the subject of your Summoning, I have an experiment I believe could benefit from your participation and experience,” I explained, shifting the subject toward more productive matters.

“If I can be of assistance, it would be my sincerest desire,” Oba Kei answered with earnest sincerity.

I nodded in both thanks and as a show of my approval. “This is a touchy subject, I know, so I apologise for asking. We have previously spoken regarding the damaged foundation of your clan members-” I paused, allowing Oba Kei the opportunity to affirm the statement and adjust before moving on. “What I would like to know is why the medicine is required to restore their foundation? And can it be repaired through other means?”

Oba Kei remained silent for quite some time, his eyes downcast and distracted. “The medicine is not the only way...At least, in theory...” He hedged uncomfortably. “The most ancient texts make claims that new veins can be carved and damaged veins repaired, with internal energy...Unfortunately...” Oba kei briefly lost his momentum and had to take a few moments to centre himself again. “Unfortunately, all our attempts using the Techniques at our disposal have failed. It is not enough to just inject internal energy into another person. One needs to be capable of shaping and maintaining the veins long enough for them to heal. otherwise...It is like building a castle from mud in the rain...”

Cultivation was strange in that the Chi flowed through the vascular system of the body, but also had much smaller veins that lacked physical structure. Internal energy resided in the same location as the bladder but had no physical presence either. The ‘science’ was difficult to accept, but my first-hand observations were even more difficult to deny.

“There may be alternatives...” I hedged, not wanting to oversell my suspicions.

Despite my intentions, Oba Kei perked up immediately at the news. New hope burned brightly in his eyes.

“It is purely theoretical,” I warned “And could prove incredibly dangerous, potentially fatal...”

It was clear by the look in his eyes that Oba Kei was not deterred in the slightest.

“We would need relatively healthy volunteers...” I held up a hand signalling the grand elder to remain silent. “You are responsible for the education of my children, and I will not proceed with coerced volunteers. I need you to understand that even if what I am proposing succeeds, the subject may need to be terminated or imprisoned to ensure the safety of the realm...”

Oba Kei’s enthusiasm was curbed ever so slightly with confusion and curiosity. Unaware of the concerns I had only recently put to rest with Zhu Min and Daemonic Cultivators.

Just because Zhu Min had proven capable of the mental discipline to achieve the minimum level of control I required, did not mean others would be able to do the same.

Of course, there would be entirely new dangers to consider as well. Assuming the Daemonic Veins and Gric’s best efforts met with failure. Would Sebet fare any better? And what would her efforts create in place of the Daemonic Veins?

For that matter, what would happen if Orphiel or Ophelia tried healing them by reversing and taking the damage upon themselves?

Extra chapter progress!

Lookin good for the extra chapter coming out this evening maaaaaaybe sooner...maybe...

Thats a twelve hour window-ish, for those not familair with the timezone variables.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 81 - TBD - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 81 - TBD - Part Two

I could feel the Demon Lord trapped inside of the spear trying to work its way free. Fighting against the binding of the Empowered Banishment Spell in a fit of fury, desperation, and to my immense surprise, fear.

While the Demon Lord was technically my subordinate, it had not sworn any Oaths as a guarantee of good behaviour. As such, I was quite content with leaving it within the spear until such a time that I was confident I could engage it from a position of overwhelming advantage.

While I was preoccupied, the enemy Cultivators attempted to flee. However, deafened as they were, they failed to notice Yi Gim chasing behind them until it was too late.

Free to pick them off one by one, Yi Gim ruthlessly cut them down from behind. Making a point to cripple each man by severing their spine before moving on to the next. Once all four Cultivators were disabled, Yi Gim drove the crimson jade cutlass through each man’s abdomen, destroying their Cultivation.

Stripping their belongings with the use of his Storage Ring, Yi Gim stared grimly into the faces of the traitors as they expired from their injuries.

After the last traitor drew their final breath, Yi Gim began consuming medicinal items from his Storage Ring.

Feeling guilty about Mud’s sorry state, I used a small amount of my HP to flash burn a Beast’s corpse with Sorcery and the Fire Lance Spell. My hunger drove me to repeat the process several more times.

With the Demon Lord ‘gone’, Kwan had left his hiding place and had resumed gorging on the field of corpses.

“You defeated a Demon Lord...” Preoccupied with sating my hunger, Yi Gim’s observation caught me by surprise. “You defeated it...On your own...” He stared at me with a look I had known only too well back on Earth. It was the same way people would look at a feral dog. A potential threat that might be set off by a slight misstep or harsh word. “It’s impossible...” Yi Gim slowly shook his head, taking a moment to stare up at the sky where the void had occupied minutes before. “But I saw it with my own eyes...I saw you defeat it...” He looked down at his hands, at the crimson cutlass I had gifted him. “Why? Why did you spare my life?” Yi Gim asked quietly. “You had such power all along...So why?...”

“You apologised,” I replied honestly.

Yi Gim stared back at me impassively, but I could see the doubt in his eyes.

“You knew I had certain advantages,” I recalled, thinking back on our first meeting during the Supremacy Challenge. “An underestimation, to be sure,” I conceded. “However, I probably didn’t register as being a true threat. Not to you.”

Yi Gim nodded faintly in agreement and waited.

“You chose the pursuit of peace anyway.” I raised a hand to forestall the expected response. “I know you were looking out for your subordinates, but that’s a part of it as well...I don’t know how I would have acted in your place...” I admitted candidly. “But I’d like to think I would have had the courage to do the same...”

Yi Gim nodded again, his expression softening. “Territory can be replaced. Those we love...” He looked over at the twisted remains of the old man. “Only a fool would place a price on their lives...”

I nodded in agreement. If it meant protecting my children, I would resort to just about anything. If something were to happen to them...

“The assassins...they might return,” I commented, redirecting the conversation slightly. “What do you intend to do?”

Yi Gim’s face fell slightly and he turned to regard his city with a critical eye. “I’m not sure there is much I ‘can’ do,” he replied candidly. “I lost many retainers in the ambush...Good men and women who have been loyal to my family for generations...” His fists trembled with anger but there was a weariness in his eyes as well. “Recruiting and training replacements will take time, time and money that is needed to pay for repairs to the city...” Yi Gim relaxed his hands, closed his eyes and took a slow calming breath. “If your intent was to offer temporary replacements, I must sadly decline. After all that has happened, such open reliance on an external force would only sow seeds for further chaos.”

“I am aware, which is why I would not have made that offer,” I agreed.

Yi Gim appeared surprised and furrowed his brow as he considered alternative intentions.

“I’m willing to offer shelter to your family while you resolve issues within your realm,” I explained somewhat reservedly. “Assuming they are willing to take the appropriate Oaths to guarantee good behaviour, I would make the same.” Reciprocating the Oath wouldn’t be a big deal. Anywhere they would be permitted to go, the local populace would be bound by similar Oaths guaranteeing good behaviour.

Yi Gim was so surprised that he nearly dropped the cutlass in his right hand. Resting his left hand on his brow, he dipped his head and stared at the cutlass. “What did I do in a past life to deserve such favour from the heavens?...” He whispered.

“I’m willing to extend that offer to your key allies and subordinates as well,” I added, pretending not to have heard what he said. “At the very least, that should help lighten the load in regards to your security. As for resources...” I suppressed my misgivings and focused on the potential gains. “We could also use this as an opportunity to begin our previously discussed trade arrangements.”

We had discussed the possibility of establishing a formal trade route between our realms during a previous encounter. I figured if I was taking in outsiders long term, now would be as good a time as any to take the plunge. Besides, any merchants operating within my realm would have to submit to the same Oaths, and a few others besides, to guarantee their good behaviour.

“If I had not witnessed events myself, I would fear alternative motives,” Yi Gim admitted. “However, what use are hostages for a man that could simply take all he wanted regardless?” He smiled wryly and stared toward the city again. “I do not doubt your intentions...However, I will need some time to settle my mind and discuss matters with my family.”

I had expected as much and nodded. “We will need to resolve our communications issue before I leave,” I cautioned, withdrawing the communication talisman from my Storage Ring and presenting it to Yi Gim for clarity.

Yi Gim snorted softly and smiled. “In all the confusion, it slipped my mind. I will see that it is resolved within the hour,” he promised. Offering a small bow, he began making his way back to the city.

Ji Daesung and his subordinates cast terrified glances over their shoulders as they hurried to fall in line behind Yi Gim.

Seon Hyun-Ki and Do Jung’s subordinates were similarly frightened but the men themselves spared a moment to bow respectfully before taking their leave.

Allowing the procession to return to the city first, I returned to roasting Beast meat with magical fire. After a few minutes of doing so, and with little else occupying my thoughts, it occurred to me that I could simply use my Fire Affinity to maintain a flame independently of my magic.

Sure enough, early experimentation confirmed that I could not only move the flames via pyrokinesis but also substitute Chi for a physical fuel source. Experimenting further, I was surprised to find that I could spontaneously generate fire at a small cost in Chi as well.

Considering the results while sating my appetite, I realised that I should have suspected as much from the beginning. After all, I had spontaneously generated small arcs of electricity over my body in the past, and generating flames was little different, at least in theory.

The possibilities of combining Affinities proved distracting to the point that I nearly rendered a whole shank of Beast inedible. However, despite the lump of meat being just a few seconds shy of charcoal, Mud didn’t appear to mind. An otherwise unsurprising discovery given the Ogres seemed perfectly content to eat everything raw if left to their own devices.

Returning to the city sometime later, I found teams of soldiers and civilians had begun leaving the city through one of the gates. They were loading the Beast carcasses onto wagons and carts which were, in turn, being sent back into the city.

I had no idea how much the meat, hides and other materials would be worth, but I doubted it would cover the cost of the Arrays and Formations destroyed in the attack. Otherwise, Yi Gim’s initial outlook for the city wouldn’t have been so grim.

Repairing the wall, the physical structure itself, was a simple matter and took me only a few seconds of effort.

Sending the relief force back to my realm was more or less the same process as I had used for their arrival, only in reverse. The withdrawal was undertaken in phases to ensure order was maintained throughout and no one was left behind.

Of course, certain supplies and materials were left behind anyway. Deemed expendable or too cumbersome to transport through the use of the Beacons. Mostly consisting of soiled fabrics and empty wooden storage containers, I was confident the less well-off locals would recycle and repurpose the materials within short order once they returned.

For my part, I withdrew to the grounds of Yi Gim’s estate alongside Kwan, Mud and my Bodyguards.

To my surprise, the ‘temporary’ Formation I had raised to protect the pagoda was still in effect. I had originally expected the Ability to last minutes or up to an hour. However, at its current rate of deterioration, it seemed likely that it would last up to twelve or more hours longer before failing outright. The deterioration that had taken place already had reduced the overall efficiency of the Chi drawing effect, but the minimal effort it had taken to create it was more than a fair tradeoff.

Meditating alongside Kwan within the Formation, I became aware of new subjects being taken under my authority. After taking a moment to investigate, I confirmed that they were Kang's people and had been recruited to his Faction.

Assuming that one of my champions had insisted upon recruitment before transportation was permitted, I decided to spend a small amount of MP to remotely view their location and take a look for myself.

Selecting Randle as my target, I took a deep calming breath and shifted my perspective.

Randle was standing in the clearing of a dense bamboo forest, his armour spattered with fresh blood.

Two anthropomorphic tigers lay at his feet, blood trailing from their mouths. They wore nothing besides a breechcloth and didn’t appear to have carried any weapons. However, the hooked claws on the ends of their toes and fingers left them far from defenceless. The same could be said for their teeth if Randle hadn’t broken most of them.

The stillness of the tigermen made it clear that they were dead but Randle was still on his guard, watching the surrounding forest with intense focus.

“The natives are involved in some form of a feud, Majesty,” Randle explained quietly, made aware of my presence through the Ability. “These strange Felids began attacking the settlement sometime after the Faction Leader left with their elite forces. Losses have been minimal, but some don’t want to leave without exacting some form of retribution first.”

[ How many? ] I asked, writing the words in the soil with the Shape Earth Spell.

Randle frowned and considered the question for several moments, all the while scanning the surrounding forest for signs of the tigermen. “Those who won’t leave? Maybe a couple of hundred?” He guessed with surprising glibness. “There are far more civilians than we had expected. The count was well over a couple of thousand when I left and I don’t know if it’s worth counting them all right now...As for these Felids? It’s uncertain...It’s been difficult to get actionable numbers from the Faction Leader, but we think the two groups are probably similar in overall size...Which would put their potential numbers in the tens of thousands...”

It took me a few moments to process the scale of what we were dealing with.

[ 10000+ ? ] I wrote, wanting to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood or misheard what he had said.

Randle nodded grimly. “Jayne was raising the subject of making contact just a short while ago. Trask and I volunteered to bait out the Felid skirmishers to take some pressure off the settlement, so I don’t know what they have decided.”

[ Take care. Remain vigilant. ] Although cliche, I couldn’t think of any other advice to leave for him.

Cancelling the connection, I shifted to Jayne’s perspective.

Jayne was standing atop a crumbling moss-covered tower, affording both her and now myself, a prime vantage point of the overgrown city beneath her.

Many of the buildings within the city were in a state of partial collapse, shored up with crude repairs made from materials sourced from the forest encroaching upon the city's boundaries. A small number bore similarly crude additions which more often than not combined a second story between two or more buildings.

Long thick ropes hung across every street and road, allowing the monkeys within the city to traverse their home without ever touching the ground.

Even at a glance, it became immediately obvious that Randle's estimate had been right. Thousands of monkeys, big and small, were gathered around the centre of the city, their chittering and whooping cries carrying on the wind and announcing their collective fear.

Smaller packs of larger monkeys patrolled the ropeways of the city with their weapons drawn and ready. The city’s original walls, or what remained of them, were abandoned outright. Instead, the defenders patrolled over stone and wooden barricades that were combined with the walls of adjacent buildings. Forming a second smaller settlement within the grounds of the city.

Jayne was distracted and didn’t appear to have noticed my presence. Following her line of sight, I quickly realised why.

The forest was on fire.

Thick plumes of smoke were rising from the forest beyond the northern wall and were multiplying with each passing moment. A clear sign that the fire was almost certainly being spread with malicious intent.

Jayne leapt from the tower, creating a Spatial Breach in the open air. Falling through the Breach, she landed in the city centre, joining the two Orcs, Lurr and Brok, the Naga, Itzal, and her cousin, Faine.

“They have set fire to the forest!” Jayne shouted, raising her voice to make herself heard above the chaos.

“Cowards!” Brok snarled, earning a rumbling growl of agreement from Lurr.

“Why not do this earlier?!” Faine asked. “There’s nothing here worth stealing! So they lose nothing by burning it down!”

Itzal frowned but said nothing. Likely carrying a very different interpretation of what constituted as valuable due to her tribal origins. Judging by the looks on Brok and Lurr’s faces, they appeared to carry the same opinion.

“We need to bring back Randle and Trask!” Jayne insisted.

Brok and Lurr nodded in agreement and each set off in a different direction.

“What about his Majesty?!” Faine asked, cupping his hands around his mouth to better make himself heard above the cries of the monkeys overhead. “There are way too many of them to evacuate on such short notice!”

Jayne was about to speak but instead pointed to the wall beside them.

[ I am here. ] I wrote on the wall, making myself known.

“What should we do, Majesty?!”  Faine asked.

I took a few moments to think before making my decision and writing it on the wall. [ Fetch Gric and Sebet. Others, evacuate with civilians. ] I issued a second Quest to that effect as well, announcing my intentions to those who were currently absent.

Faine’s expression soured but he quickly regained his composure. “As your Majesty wills!” After sharing a brief glance with his cousin, Faine opened a Breach and returned to Sanctuary.

The MP drain required to maintain the remote viewing wasn’t high, but it was slowly reaching the point where I would be better off just traversing through a Breach outright. However, once Gric arrived, I would be able to communicate with them again anyway, except without the cost of MP. If I was needed, Gric or Sebet could pay the cost for the Breach.

With those thoughts in mind, I was about to cancel the connection but stopped myself at the last moment as someone brushed against the periphery of my will.

Seizing on their presence, I became engaged in a desperate but altogether one-sided battle of wills. Bearing down on my opponent's mind, I was surprised to find that it was both familiar and foreign at the same time. Instincts dictated that the individual was a subordinate, identifying them as an Ogre. However, the mental presence of the stranger was utterly alien to what I could sense from Mud.

It felt different. Different in the same sort of way as Eg. An Ogre, but also not an Ogre. Something less, and yet also more.

Unable to bring my full will to bear through a proxy, it was all I could manage to keep the individual from fleeing.

Driven by my curiosity, I opened a Spatial Breach and entered the overgrown city. Before I could command them otherwise, or close the Breach, Mud and Kwan passed through behind me, depleting a chunk of my MP that I had intended to hold in reserve.

Despite my irritation, I couldn’t bring myself to chastise Mud for acting on good intentions. Especially since I could feel those intentions radiating from his otherwise simple mind.

Kwan was a different matter. I could feel his intentions as well and was far less impressed by his desire to sate his appetite and instil fear in new enemies.

Cowing Kwan with a glare, I felt somewhat glad that I had chosen to open the Breach on the edge of the overgrown city rather than at its centre. No doubt, Kwan’s sudden appearance would have only exacerbated the rising panic of the locals. Which was seemingly what he had intended given he was currently sulking and sneaking glances back toward the centre of the city while tasting the air.

Making a note to discipline Kwan later, I turned my focus toward the stranger.

Free to exert my will directly, the stranger’s resistance collapsed almost immediately.

I sent a mental command for the stranger to present themself to me. Compelling them toward my location.

While waiting for the stranger to arrive, I had Kwan and Mud hide themselves in the nearby ruins.

Sensing movement in the nearby bamboo, a hail of primitive spears announced that the stranger was not alone. However, I felt no other Ogres besides Mud and the stranger.

The spears were thrown with such force that the stone heads and wooden shafts exploded on impact, sending shrapnel skittering and flying through the nearby city streets.

The barrage of primitive projectiles continued for a few moments before abruptly coming to an end.

“I don’t care!” A ragged voice from the forest snarled. “Kill it! Or my brothers will flay your families alive!”

Four tigermen rushed from the bamboo forest with claws and teeth bared. No larger than those I had seen when remotely viewing Randle, they looked to be about eight feet tall but it was hard to tell with them running on all fours.

Mud planted his feet and began raising his machete while Kwan tensed in preparation to strike.

“No. I want them alive,” I commanded.

Mud nodded obediently and dropped the machete. Hunkering down like an American football player, he charged and intercepted the lead tigerman, driving him to the ground with what sounded like bone-shattering force.

Startled by Mud’s sudden appearance, the two remaining tigermen were slow in shifting their attention toward the immediate threat. A mistake that allowed Kwan to strike from the shadows and immobilise them within his coils.

“Stay!” Mud barked firmly and gave the tigerman pinned beneath him a hard slap across the face, dislodging one of the tigerman’s fangs.

“IDIOTS!” The voice called out in panic. “INCOMPETENT PRIMITIVES!”

A fourth, and much taller, tigerman stiffly stepped out of the forest.

Unlike the others, the fourth tigerman wore banded armour and carried a large steel sword on his hip.

Despite all appearances, he was also the stranger my Ability had identified as an Ogre.

Confused, I spent a small amount of MP to cast the Keen Senses Spell. Looking more closely, I only became more confused. Besides the armour and his weapon, the fourth tigerman appeared no different than the others. Except  he registered as an Ogre, and I had no idea why.

In stark contrast to his earlier behaviour, the fourth tigerman had gone completely silent. We stared at one another in silence, each waiting for the other to speak.

“What are you?” I asked, leveraging my will to compel an answer.

I felt the stranger’s panic as he made a frantic attempt to break free of my will.  “Grk!” The stranger’s body shook violently as I brought the full weight of my will to bear. “GAH! Enough! I...I am H-Horangi!” The stranger gasped.

“And your name?” I pressed, realising I had no idea what a Horangi was.

“Yejun...” The stranger hissed reproachfully. “My brothers will have your hide for this indignity!” He snarled.

Despite the brave front, I could feel his terror. What was strange, was that I wasn’t the primary source. The stranger, Yejun, seemed to be more afraid of his own siblings than he was of me.

“Why are you attacking these people?” I asked, shifting focus toward the greater issue rather than just indulging my curiosity.

Yejun tried to marshal his will and put up a fresh resistance but caved almost immediately. “Made...Made a deal with the humans!...” He groaned, trying and failing to hold the words back. “Eliminate the primitives...In exchange...NO!” Yejun violently shook his head and tried to resist. “They will know I told you! Stop! I can’t!...” He cried out fearfully, raising his hands to try and cover his mouth.

Any semblance of sympathy I may have felt had evaporated.

“In exchange for what?” I demanded coldly.

“Exchange...for...” Yejun began to jerk and twitch flooded with pain in response to bitterly contesting my will. “N-No! I-I w-won’t t-tell! Y-y-y-ou-w-w-w-urgh...” He collapsed to the ground, shuddering and shaking in the grips of a seizure.

Even after mentally retracting the compulsion, Yejun’s convulsions continued.

Watching him thrash and spasm in the dirt, I felt nothing but disgust and anger. I had known him all of two or three minutes and was already convinced that his death was more than justified.

“You!” I pointed to the two tigermen, not caring which of them would answer. “What humans was he talking about?! And what were they offering?!”

The tigermen glanced at one another and came to a silent agreement between themselves.

“Humans look same. Uncertain...” One of the tigermen replied nervously. “Humans say, kill monkey clan. Promise powerful treasure...” He looked to his companion and gulped nervously. “We no want kill. Horangi force clan. Horangi kill children...Horangi...Horangi eat us...”

Given Yejun’s earlier outburst, I was inclined to believe him.

“Cannibals?...” Something clicked in my mind and I thought back to what one of the Cultivators had said. “Man-eaters...” That was what the subordinate had called the Ogres.

There was what Yi Gim had said as well. The weird translation that had just seemed off.

Thinking of Yi Gim, something else clicked into place.

“This isn’t his true appearance, is it?” I asked.

The two tigermen shook their heads.

I had appeared before Yi Gim in both my true form and in a human disguise. At the time, I had thought his authority as a Monarch identifying me was the reason he had been able to take things in stride.

But what if it was something else? What if he believed that I wasn’t just a Monarch? That I was something else?

I pointed to Mud. “These Horangi, do they look like him?”

The tigermen nodded.

Shapeshifters...

Cannibal shapeshifters...

Cannibal shapeshifters that were involved in a plot to assassinate a Monarch, my ally, and plunge his entire realm into chaos...

Setting aside any consideration for what they may have demanded in payment, the civilians of Yi Gim’s realm were now in incredible danger. With the Monarch’s forces compromised, realm security would be weakened. Allowing the shapeshifters the opportunity to predate upon the population with a greatly reduced chance of being discovered.

“You said they have taken prisoners?...” I really didn’t want to ask. Memories of broken bodies discarded and strewn about a stone basement came unbidden to my mind. The faces of men, women and children frozen in terror. Their empty eyes pleading for help that would never arrive.

I took a calming breath and let the memory fall away.

The tigermen nodded again, this time more vigorously.

“Take children! Keep hidden!” The second tigerman exclaimed earnestly. “You help us?” He pleaded. “Kill Horangi! Save children?!”

<Release them.> I commanded.

Kwan immediately did as he was told, loosening his coils and freeing the tigermen.

Following Kwan’s lead, Mud awkwardly pushed himself upright, liberating the half-crushed tigerman from beneath his prodigious weight.

“How many more of them are there?” I asked coldly, shutting down the vulnerable parts of my mind in preparation for what needed to be done.

“Minsu, Chihun, Shi-Woo, Yin-Jun,” the first tigerman replied eagerly, rattling off names so quickly that it took me a few moments to gain a proper account.

“Four of them?” I asked, counting off four fingers and holding them up just to be certain.

All three of the tigermen nodded. Although the third was having great difficulty and seemed far more preoccupied with bracing his ribs.

I knew that the smart decision would be to wait for backup to arrive and coordinate a plan of attack.

Today was proving a day for acting otherwise.

I figured Gric and Sebet would make contact once they arrived and could catch me up if necessary.

I withdrew stone chains from my Storage Ring and tightly bound the Horangi’s body. Once he was secure, I slung him over my shoulder and turned to address the tigermen again. “Take me to them,” I commanded.

Only too eager to obey, the two healthy tigermen supported their injured kinsman between them and led us into the forest.

Any attempts at stealth would have been pointless, so I didn’t bother.

More of the tigermen revealed themselves as we travelled deeper into the forest. Although few in numbers at first, they quickly gathered in the hundreds.

At first, the tigermen we encountered appeared committed to obstructing our path, even going so far as to throw spears and stones from a distance. However, after a brief exchange with our guides and revealing Yejun’s unconscious body, they quickly changed their allegiances.

After repeating this process a few dozen times, word began to spread ahead of us. Not only ensuring safe passage but also drawing away the warriors that had been sent to attack Kang’s people.

Uncertain how far we would have to travel to discover the tigerman village or city, the sudden appearance of two Horangi in my peripheral senses nearly caught me off guard. If I hadn’t been expecting them, they would almost certainly have been able to take the opportunity to slip away.

Keenly aware of what was at stake, I pounced on their minds with as much force as I could bring to bear and demanded their complete obedience.

Caught off-guard, the mind of one Horangi collapsed outright, stripping him of all agency. Leaving him little more than a puppet. The other Horangi managed to put up a semblance of a fight before collapsing into unconsciousness from the pain.

Five minutes passed and another Horangi entered my field of influence. However, he managed to slip out of range again before I could act.

Deeply concerned that the Horangi would escape, I cast Yejun off my shoulder and broke into a lurching run.

<Watch him!> I commanded.

<Obedience.> Kwan replied, falling away from my side and seizing hold of Yejun before his body had a chance to come to a stop on its own.

<If he tries to escape. Kill him.> I added, now far more concerned with damage control than taking prisoners.

Kwan made no reply but I couldn’t pretend not to notice a marked rise in his bloodlust and hunger. There was every chance that he would execute the Horangi at the first opportunity, regardless of what I had instructed.

Making matters worse, for the Horangi. Kwan knew that I knew, and he also knew that I didn’t care.

Running as fast as I was able through the dense bamboo forest, I took the most direct route possible toward the direction where I had last sensed the fleeing Horangi. Unable to manoeuvre more than a few degrees in either direction while running full tilt, I employed my Affinities as best as I was able to shift obstacles out of my way. Unfortunately, more often than not, I had to simply plough straight through them instead. Relying on shear strength, mass and momentum to see me through.

With the memories of several large-scale atrocities circulating in the back of my mind, I continued pushing myself to put in greater effort. To run faster. To catch the enemy BEFORE they had the chance to slaughter the helpless...

Without warning, two Horangi appeared in the periphery of my consciousness and launched a combined counterattack, sending lances of pain through my mind. However, the efforts of the weaker Horangi collapsed almost as quickly as they began. No doubt unprepared for the pain generated from the Artefact lodged in my brain.

The stronger Horangi faltered but quickly rallied, somehow rendering himself immune to the pain.

<Surrender!> The Command was simple and carried the collective weight of my entire will.

The Horangi’s mental defence strained, cracking and bending under the weight, but it didn’t break. <I refuse.>

Maintaining the pressure, I became vaguely aware of a wooden fortress atop a mountain in the distance.

Opening a Breach and stepping through to stand before the fortress, the majority of the distance between us had evaporated, magnifying the effects of my will.

The Horangi’s defences buckled almost immediately but he was still somehow immune to the pain.

<STAY.> I Commanded, forcing his body to act against him as I tore the gate of the fortress from its rope hinges.

The Tigermen within the fortress struck at me with their spears and claws but found no more success than those who had tried before them. For my part, I ignored them, focusing solely on finding the Horangi.

Leveraging brute strength, I smashed through the walls in my way, scanning each room with a mounting sense of dread and anticipation. All the while, the Horangi struggled to free itself from my will. Growing more desperate as the space between us grew smaller and smaller.

Crashing through another wall, I found myself standing before the mouth of a massive pit. Preparing to descend the large stone stairs built into the side of the pit, I felt yet another Horangi presence appear on the periphery of my mind.

Unlike the others, the newcomer was utterly unprepared and collapsed the moment I brought my will to bear.

The Horangi below attempted to use the opportunity to break free but failed.

We were so close now I could probably maintain the pressure without trying. But I refused to take that risk, maintaining my focus as best as I could manage. Forcing the Horangi into compliance and immobility.

I could smell the scent of blood, death and decay on the warm air rising from the bottom of the pit and fought to hold back my despair.

“Not again...” I growled, refusing to accept the possibility of failure.

Bracing myself, I stepped off the stairs and fell into the darkness of the pit.

Exercising my Earth Affinity, I was able to slow my descent at the last moment and land on my feet.

The bottom of the pit was littered with bones, but nowhere close to the number I had expected. What came as a far greater surprise was the size of the bones. While I did not have the time to make anything more than a casual observation, I couldn’t see any bones small enough to belong to a child. I took what small comfort I could in that fact.

Turning to face the direction of the Horangi, I found a tunnel blocked by the flayed hides of adult tigermen. Many of them were undergoing purification and I realised that they were most likely the source of the foul smell I had detected from above the pit.

Unwilling to touch the rotting remains, I snapped the rope they were hanging from and then surveyed the stone passageway beyond.

Contrary to my expectations, the passage was incredibly short, no more than a couple of dozen feet long at most. Beyond the passage was a large stone chamber, and standing at its centre in clear view was the Horangi desperately attempting to break free of my will.

Lips curling in hatred, I could feel the Horangi’s thoughts squirming beneath my touch but otherwise remaining hidden. Even so, there was something foul about them that was triggering a primal response in my subconscious.

Each step closer I came to the Horangi, the more convinced I became that he was deserving of death. A disconcerting realisation given how disturbingly similar we appeared to be.

Nearly fifteen feet tall, the Horangi was hairless and had a muscular build bearing black tiger-like stripes over sickly pale skin. He was naked except for a leather harness with a metal plate that covered his heart.

Behind the Horangi was a large stone table, and on top of the table was the mutilated body of another Horangi.

No...

Something in my subconscious refused the interpretation. Flagging it as incomplete in the same manner as the earlier interpretation.

It wasn’t a Horangi...It was something else...

The stumps of its arms and legs were tied with discoloured lengths of rope and stank of gangrene. Septic veins spread like fractures against a wasted frame of pale violet skin. Entire sections of flesh had been shorn away, leaving the raw exposed sections of muscle to rot. Sunken eyelids were drawn back from empty sockets and mangled optic nerves. All the while, bloody drool pooled from a dislocated jaw.

The longer I looked, the more abuses I discovered and the more vindicated my subconscious became.

Unable to stomach the sight any longer, I turned my full attention toward the Horangi. “Why?!...” I demanded refusing to accept that such acts of hate could be justified, driven to find some sort of answer to make sense of what I had seen.

The Horangi stared back at me and raised his chin, glaring up at me defiantly in silence.

“Wrong answer...” I growled, stalking forward and took a firm grip on his left shoulder. “I asked you a question!” I tightened my grip and felt his bones begin to give.

The Horangi grimaced and gasped in pain, but I wasn’t paying attention to him. My new vantage point had added yet another dimension to the violations of the Horangi’s victim.

Deaf to the Horangi’s screams, several long moments passed before I was able to overcome the initial shock and begin making conscious decisions again.

Lifting the Horangi by his shattered shoulder, I stared him straight in the eyes and seized his genitals with my left hand.

Understanding and terror flashed in the Horangi’s eyes and he railed against my control with every fibre of will he could muster. Unable to so much as raise a finger to defend himself as I ripped his reproductive organs free from his body and cast them against the far wall, detonating them in a rain of blood and pulped flesh.

Ignoring the pain, I sacrificed a chunk of HP, using Sorcery to open a Breach back to my realm and Summoning projections of Wraithe and Sebet.

Wraithe took in our surroundings in silence, awaiting my orders while Sebet began walking around the room wearing a bemused smile.

I pointed to the Horangi’s victim on the stone table. “To the hospital...” I growled, trembling with rage and fighting to maintain control.

Wraithe nodded and silently moved to obey, lifting the violated soul with absolute care and hastily carrying them through the Breach.

“And ‘Him’?” Sebet purred excitedly, baring her fangs and biting down on her lower lip with anticipation.

“I want to know why...” I continued staring the Horangi down, carving the pain and terror on his face into my mind. “I want him to suffer!” I snarled.

“I can do that, on both counts,” Sebet promised, grinning from ear to ear. Like a cat with a mouse caught in its sights, she slowly crept forward, her tail snaking back and forth in her wake. “I really must thank you, Great One,” Sebet groaned with arousal. “It has been so long since I have enjoyed the company of a true sadist,” her eyes glittered with malice and anticipation. “Turning the tables provides an experience that simply cannot be replicated through other means!” She smiled coquettishly and feigned a blush. “But you don’t want to hear about what I have planned...” Sebet purred, returning her gaze to the Horangi, making no attempts at hiding the perverted hunger in her eyes.

“No...” I growled, catching her by surprise.

“No?” Sebet repeated, confused and unable to read my surface thoughts for answers.

“I need to know...” I insisted.

“Why he did it?” Sebet asked curiously, “Orrrr?” She let the question hang while waiting for an answer.

“Everything! All of it!” I snapped. “I...I need to make sense of this! And I need to know how you intend to make him pay for what he has done!”

Sebet cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows in an exaggerated proclamation announcing her surprise. “That is unexpected...

***** Gric ~ Yi Gim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Monkey Clan ruins *****

Evacuating the Celestial Beasts through the Dimensional Breach, Gric couldn’t help but worry. While he was still convinced that standing up to the Tyrant had been the correct thing to do, he was becoming increasingly alarmed at learning just how much danger the Tyrant had faced without his support.

Making matters worse, The Tyrant’s mental defences were raised at their highest level, blocking all of Gric’s attempts to establish a telepathic connection.

<You shouldn’t worry.> Sebet snickered smugly, grinning mischievously at him from her position across the overgrown square.

Gric couldn’t help but scowl. There were precious few exceptions where she would have a cause to be so pleased with herself and for it not to be a cause for serious concern.

<You really do worry too much.> Sebet taunted. <The Tyrant is perfectly safe, and you would know that if you hadn’t made such a determined effort to lose his confidence.>

Gric wanted to counter with a barb of his own but came up short. His efforts were undermined by resurfacing doubts. <You have confirmed the Tyrant’s safety?> Gric asked, swallowing his pride to try and settle his concerns for the Tyrant.

<Mhm.> Sebet replied smugly. <He’s wearing his armour and everything. Although it’s just as well he has those extra eyelids! Going without his helmet and all, he would have needed some form of splash guard.>

<No helmet? Splash guard?> Gric shifted uncomfortably and felt a marked rise in his anxiety. <You are not tempting the Tyrant with debauchery?!” He demanded coldly. <The Tyrantess would not be pleased!>

<Hrmph! Only you would think me so stupid as to provoke the Tyrantess!> Sebet sneered. <Besides, not all forms of debauchery and expulsion of bodily fluids revolve around sex! The fact that I derive sexual pleasure from them anyway is beside the point.>

Gric grimaced with disgust and loathing. The fact that Sebet remained in the Tyrant’s favour, while he was not, was a serious motivation for rigorous introspection.

<It’s so nice to see the Tyrant move beyond his comfort zone!> Sebet continued in the same smug tone. <It really makes a gal feel like her work is appreciated when the boss gets hands-on, you know?>

Ignoring the Transcendent Beasts shuffling through the Breach, Gric fixed Sebet with a cold calculating glare. <What is it that the Tyrant is doing, exactly?> He demanded, already gathering his mental reserves in preparation to brute force Sebet’s mental defences if she attempted to side-step the question.

<You aren’t supposed to do that.> Sebet warned with a small smile, silently acknowledging the fact that they both knew who would come out on top in a direct battle of wills, and that Gric was not bound to the same restrictions that she was.

Gric made no reply.

<Fine.> Sebet made a show of shrugging nonchalantly and leaning with a bored expression against a pile of rubble. <If you really must know, we are in the middle of interrogating a prisoner.>

Gric relaxed his will but remained wary of signs of deception. <Just an interrogation?>

Sebet rolled her eyes at Gric and gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look. <It’s rarely ‘just an interrogation’.> She sniffed haughtily. <Which you would know if you ever used anything remotely resembling finesse when rifling through a target's mind.”

<Finesse is for the weak.> Gric replied, returning the contempt twofold.

<Nothing to worry about then?> Sebet huffed and cut the connection. She stuck her tongue out at him and then looked pointedly elsewhere, ignoring him.

Gric scowled darkly and considered launching an attack on her mind. Stifling his urges, Gric became aware of another Daemon's presence within the Realm. His position as Daemon King gave him knowledge of all Summons and Pacts made targeting his subordinates. The fact that he was not alerted through this method left only a handful of possible candidates.

Sure enough, Gric’s ‘request’ for a telepathic link was answered almost immediately, identifying the Daemon as Wraithe. She was one of the few Daemons who was given a Faction all of her own in recognition of her contributions, putting her outside of his hierarchy. At least, for the time being.

<Are you with the Tyrant?> Gric asked, forgoing all semblances of formality. Such frivolity was unnecessary amongst their kind and would not only go unappreciated but waste both their time.

<I am.> Wraithe replied somewhat distractedly. Fleeting impressions of exposed muscle and sinew drifted from her end of the connection.

In other circumstances, such impressions would have bothered him. However, on this rare occasion, Gric found himself glad of them. <Sebet is performing an interrogation?> He asked.

There was a marked pause as Wraithe considered the question. <A subject is undergoing repeated mutilation.> She replied somewhat hesitantly. <I am not aware of any attempts at extracting information having taken place.> More impressions passed through their connection along with half-formed thoughts of whether it would be appropriate to ask if junior Surgeons could use the subject as teaching materials.

Gric was about to ask another question but became aware of something trying, and failing, to worm its way into the projected copy of Wraithe’s mind. Seizing on the presence, Gric expected to follow it back to the subject of the Tyrant and Sebet’s interrogation.

What he discovered gave him far more cause for concern. The presence was reaching out from the Cultivator ring hanging from the Tyrant’s neck, and now that it had become aware of Gric, it had begun trying to latch onto him as well.

Worse still, with the Tyrant’s mental defences raised, Gric had no way of knowing if the Tyrant’s judgement had been compromised.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 81 - TBD - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 81 - TBD - Part One

Minutes turned to hours and there was still no end to the Beast Tide in sight. Kang and the Ogres had been pushed back toward the wall but were refusing to give up any further ground. The Ogres had been resupplied with new weapons and were desperately trying to break out from their encirclement but had met with little success.

I could feel their disappointment and fear in the back of my mind. Their fear that they had let me down. that they would be left behind, that they were not enough...

Which was ludicrous. The field was piled high with so many bodies that the Ogres had to have killed more than a couple of hundred Beasts each and with more to spare besides. The fact that they had not been overrun and only driven back under such an unrelenting assault was a testament to their strength, durability, and unwavering morale.

So long as I faced the tide head-on, the Beasts’ momentum and numbers prevented them from turning back and making any form of meaningful attacks against my back. However, I was also isolated and couldn’t retreat. The blood-soaked earth made it dangerous to linger in any single place for too long or retread previous ground. I had to continue slowly pushing forward to new ground if I wanted to avoid slipping and falling beneath the tide of bodies.

While my armour had protected me from the worst, my body ached. Thrice I had risked conjuring water from my Storage Ring to douse my skin and rehydrate. However, less than optimal concentration had wasted the majority of the water, spilling it over my armour instead of beneath.

Despite the pain, I had barely lost a quarter of my HP and was well on my way to recovering half of my MP. I had Healing and Mana Potions inside of my Storage Ring, but they functioned according to relative mass and were not to be wasted without good cause. While a Human would only need a couple of standard-sized Mana Potions to recover most of their MP, I would need to drink closer to fifty. What constituted a single draught for someone my size would wipe out a quarter of the Alchemist Faction’s daily production quota.

Backhanding a three-eyed bull with my machete and intercepting a red-furred lion mid-leap with my fist, I caught a glimpse of Kwan from the corner of my eye.

The gluttonous little serpent was still opportunistically gorging himself while covering my back. His lack of direct engagement in the battle would have infuriated me if I had not made a profound discovery through our link. While I was still uncertain whether our proximity to one another was a factor, Kwan and I seemed capable of transmitting energy back and forth between ourselves.

Which was the current cause of Kwan’s ravenous hunger. He was functionally paying the bill for the constant healing being performed by my Iron Gut Ability. Without the steady stream of incoming energy, I would have been in a far more desperate situation a long time ago.

Unfortunately, Kwan himself did not appear to have figured things out on his end. Complaining through our link about his desperate hunger.

Making matters worse for him, Kwan also appeared to have grown larger since the beginning of the battle. His feeding frenzy was not only fueling my ongoing recovery but accelerating his growth as well. Just as the Iron Gut Ability had done for other monsters in the past.

I nearly lost my footing as a ram with ridiculously large horns crashed into my right knee.

Suicide charges from such Beasts were becoming more frequent and I was growing concerned that there was someone or something intelligent directing the actions of the horde.

Deciding to take a small gamble, I gathered most of my MP and Summoned another ally intending to scatter the Beast Tide or force the hidden hand out into the open.

The field was suddenly cast under a deep dark shadow.

<Protect!> Kwan Demanded in a panic. <Protect Kwan!>

Powerful gusts of wind swept over the oncoming Beasts, whipping up clouds of loose dirt and debris.

There was a sharp intake of breath and then a belching roar.

A stream of caustic acid strafed the ranks of the horde, melting the flesh and bones of anything and everything it touched, leaving nothing but a smouldering sludge-filled crater in its wake. Beasts that couldn’t arrest their momentum tumbled into the sludge and died, howling and screaming as the flesh sloughed off their bones.

Before anyone could react, a second torrent of acid strafed the horde. Followed by a third and then a fourth.

Reservoirs temporarily depleted, Ushu arrested his flight and landed on the field, causing the ground to shake beneath his immense weight. Raising his long neck to the sky, Ushu released a bellowing roar that burst one of my eardrums.

Hundreds of feet long from snout to tail, and close to the same in wingspan, if not more, Ushu struck a terrifying figure as he reared up on his hind legs and clawed at the sky. Releasing another ear-shattering roar, Ushu leapt forward and began trampling Beasts underfoot.

Chaos erupted amidst the ranks of the horde as Beasts trampled one another in a desperate bid to escape.

Which was just as well. Ushu’s projection had depleted all but a fragment of the MP I had provided and would not last much longer than a minute at most.

A savage warcry rose from the entrenched position of the Ogres. As a single hulking mass, the Ogres began to charge.

Although slow at first, the Ogers continued to gather speed and began overtaking the slowest and wounded Beasts. Surrounded, the Beasts were bludgeoned from all sides, trampled underfoot, and left in bloody ruin.

Even after Ushu’s projection disappeared, the majority of the Beasts continued to flee. Those that did not were trampled or met their end at my hands or those of the approaching Ogres.

Kang had followed the Ogres back out onto the field but was maintaining a cautious distance from them. Not that I could blame him.

Battered and bruised, I considered chasing the Beasts myself but promptly dismissed the idea. I needed to secure somewhere safe to recuperate and allow my body time to recover. However, instead of quitting the field, I maintained my position.

Despite appearances, the Ogres were on their last legs. I could feel it.

Hours of continuous fighting had taken their toll. Despite taking no fatalities, several Ogres bore truly horrific injuries. It was the minds of these Ogres that shone the brightest in the periphery of my mind. They were still standing, still fighting, because of me. Because of the Command I had given them.

So long as they were acting in obedience to that Command, the Ogres would compel their bodies into action. Drawing on my will to outright ignore their pain and exhaustion.

As the scattered ranks of the Ogres drew closer, the extent of their injuries only became more obvious. Many were missing entire sections of their magical armour and had resorted to using improvised weapons. Almost all bore wounds that would have felled smaller men.

With the slowest Beasts dead, and the remainder beyond the ability of the Ogres to chase, it wasn’t difficult to decide to lead the Ogres off the field and back to the safety of the city walls.

Already exhausted, the number of Ogres drawing on my will to sustain themselves began multiplying exponentially. But the time I passed the breach I felt as if massive lead weights were bearing down on my shoulders.

Surgeons began performing triage the moment the first wounded Ogres passed through the ranks of my Bodyguards and champions. Marking and shoving Ogres toward the open-air surgery bays erected along the wall. Shouting to one another so they could make themselves heard above the laboured breathing and bewildered grunting of their charges.

Large tables bearing more meat, and huge open-topped barrels of beer, were laid out in the street. Any Ogres that passed the Surgeons' initial inspections were redirected toward the buffet by burly Hill and Mountain Orcs.

Ogres who moved too slowly or presented even the hint of resistance were challenged with the simple statement of ‘Tyrant’s orders’.

I had made no such order, but the desire for my approval appeared more than enough to motivate even the most cantankerous Ogres to comply.

Removing my outermost armour, I settled into a meditative pose and cycled my Chi while using my Water Affinity to cover my skin with water from my Storage Ring. While initially refreshing, the sensation became less profound as the water temperature began rising to match my body temperature.

A sharp snarl from Kwan broke my concentration and drew my conscious mind back into focus on my surroundings.

“Tyrant?” Kang, head bowed and his eyes firmly fixed on the ground, took a wary step forward. He flinched as Kwan hissed and bared his fangs in warning, but determinedly held to his course. Kang was unarmed, having left his staff propped up against the wall well out of easy reach. “Kang speak?” He asked respectfully and with no small measure of fear.

“Speak,” I agreed, motioning for him to continue. No doubt, he wanted to join his people, or at least check on them to guarantee their fair treatment.

Kang shifted nervously and made several sounds that I initially mistook for words but were just gibberish generated by his extreme nervousness. Similar to how the Gnolls would giggle when stressed, anxious or overly excited. “Tyrant promise Kang. Promise Kang people safe,” Kang stated with notable uncertainty.

“I did,” I confirmed. “Assuming they have not turned upon one another in your absence, they are in no danger and no harm will have come to them.”

Kang appeared relieved but was still nervous. “Kang have more...More people.” He seemed to struggle with finding the right words and only grew more nervous from the delay.

Reflecting upon events, I had to admit that I should have assumed as much from the beginning. “Where are they?” I asked, suppressing the urge to groan as I rose to my feet.

Kang furrowed his massive brow and remained silent for several long moments before pointing toward one of the nearby buildings. Or rather, he pointed in a direction that was obstructed by the buildings. “No far,” Kang replied anxiously.

“You’re worried the remnants of the Beast Tide will put them in danger?” I guessed, trying to make sense of his behaviour.

Kang stiffly nodded. “Kang afraid...Others weak...”

“Then why leave them unprotected?” I didn’t expect an answer, so I wasn’t disappointed when Kang failed to answer. Either he had thought they would be safe with the Beast Tide directing attention elsewhere, or he had left defenders behind but was not confident in their ability to hold against a concentrated attack.

Already weakened by the prolonged conflict outside of the walls, I was in no rush to run headlong into more danger. Even assuming Kang’s people would not be initially hostile, the surrounding area would be teaming with wild Beasts that had splintered from the broken Beast Tide.

“Lurr!” I called out in the direction of the breach and waited.

Lurr came running almost immediately. “My Tyrant?” He eyed Kang with unreserved suspicion and an imminent threat of violence.

“I need you to take my other champions and follow Kang to the home of his people. With the Beast Tide driven off, at least for the time being, he believes his people will be in danger,” I explained patiently. “If feasible, have the others evacuate them through a Spatial Breach Spell. If not...Send someone back through a Breach and we will work something else out...”

“Yes, my Tyrant! I will do as commanded!” Lurr obediently set off to gather my champions.

“If harm comes to them, I will hold you responsible,” I promised, fixing Kang with a deadly stare.

<Intimidation!> Kwan made another low dangerous hiss, leaning in close to Kang’s face with his fangs bared and dripping with venom.

Kang drooped his head lower in a show of submission. “Kang...Understand...”

“Good.” <Enough.> I mentally rebuked Kwan, drawing him back and away from Kang.

I issued my champions a Quest to reward them for their imminent undertaking and as a means to provide the Exp they otherwise might have earned if not fighting Beasts from the Cultivation system.

I still found it strange that the Cultivation Beasts provided no Exp whatsoever. There was no reason I could think of that would explain it.

While watching Kang’s departure, I was approached by Yi Gim and several armoured men who appeared to be of a similar age. Despite a certain degree of ethnic blindness on my part, it was obvious that the new arrivals were not closely related to Yi Gim or one another. A considerably larger group of armed men trailed behind them at a respectful distance. Despite their efforts to appear otherwise, they appeared quite intimidated by the Ogres gathering around the buffet.

“Maneaters...” One of the men muttered a little too loudly, drawing the attention and ire of his seniors. Although each man appeared to have different reasons as justification.

For his part, Yi Gim appeared profoundly offended on my behalf. Two of the men beside him seemed more concerned about how I would react. While the last looked downright terrified. Perhaps entertaining thoughts that I would prove the accusation true then and there, making an example of them.

“My sincerest apologies!” Yi Gim apologised and bowed low at the waist.

The men beside him and their gathered retinues were quick to emulate the gesture.

“I accept your apology,” I replied calmly while making a point of frowning disapprovingly at the man who had made the remark. He wasn’t to know, but the Ogres would probably eat him without a second thought if they were allowed the option. What I found interesting was the underlying cause of the remark. “Why would you call them that?” I demanded, singling the man out with a dark stare.

The men on either side of the accused discreetly distanced themselves.

“Apologies, Monarch! I intended no disrespect!” The man threw himself down onto his hands and knees in a panic.

Yi Gim looked on with concern but said nothing.

“Then answer my question,” I demanded bluntly.

He began trembling so badly that his banded armour began to jingle and rattle. “Of course! Just as the Monarch desires!” He choked out fearfully. “It is because our most honoured guests are-are...” He released a strangled gasp and collapsed.

Yi Gim cleared his throat and took a half step forward, placing himself in front of the other men in a shielding gesture and drawing focus toward himself. “It is because...they are Ogres...”

The translations provided by the system were never perfect. However, watching Yi Gim’s lips move and listening to what was said, It felt like a great deal was being lost in the translation. Like the translator was defaulting to words that were technically correct but missed the intended meaning.

If I wasn’t so surprised by the fact that they had all been able to identify the Ogres on sight, the translation would have bugged me a great deal more than it otherwise had.

“My subjects are not cannibals,” I stated bluntly while doing my best not to panic.

The faces of the other men grew pale.

It took me a moment to realise that what I had said might be misconstrued. I should have included myself in the statement to avoid such confusion.

“Of course!” Yi Gim agreed, bowing his head respectfully. “For suggesting otherwise, we again offer our most sincere apologies!” He led them in another deep bow at the waist.

“For the sake of our continued cooperation, it is forgiven,” I replied, still fighting to lower my heart rate and think of a way to broach the subject from a less aggressive avenue.

“Thank you for your patience,” Yi Gim bowed his head once more and then adopted a more neutral stance as he stepped aside. “Prominent authorities from within the city have gathered to pay their respects and give thanks for coming to our aid,” Yi Gim explained, motioning to the three old men beside him.

The men bowed low again and the eldest among them stepped forward. Unlike the others, he wore only a breastplate and open-faced helmet over short blue and green robes, and despite his age, he moved with a fluid grace.

“I am Seon Hyun-Ki, Grand Elder of the Still Waters sect. It is an honour to have fought alongside such a formidable ally.” Seon Hyun-Ki bowed respectfully and stepped aside, standing opposite Yi Gim. The two men appeared to hold one another in high esteem. So I could only assume Hyun-Ki was a reasonably loyal subordinate or subject.

The next man to step forward was mostly hidden beneath his cyan armour, making it difficult to take note of any distinguishing features. Despite his earlier fears, he appeared to have received a sudden boost in confidence. “Greetings most esteemed Monarch! I am Ji Daesung! An elder in good standing of the Suwon clan! It is a great honour to have made the acquaintance of such an accomplished warrior!”

Yi Gim scowled ever so slightly before regaining control over himself and concealing his distress.

“Please, if the most esteemed Monarch ever requires anything. Know that my Suwon clan is at the Tyrant’s service!” Ji Daesung insisted eagerly.

More than capable of recognising when someone was buttering me up for a favour, I wasn’t impressed.

The third and final man frowned impatiently and dryly cleared his throat to signal for Ji Daesung to move along. As if to taunt the man, Ji Daesung slowly bowed at the waist and held the pose for several long seconds before finally stepping aside.

“Heavens’ blessings upon you Monarch for your timely intervention,” the third man made a modest bow and then removed his helmet. The right side of his face, scalp and neck were a ruin of scar tissue. A pale green jade prosthetic eye rested in his right eye socket. The fake eye bore a host of small scripts in place of the iris and a larger singular character in place of the pupil. “I am Do Jung and have the honour of holding the post of Supreme Commander of Monarch Yi’s forces within this city.” He bowed again, this time to Yi Gim, before returning his focus to me again. “As a grandfather, father and uncle, I offer my sincerest thanks for your timely arrival and intervention!” Do Jung clasped his fists tightly and bowed low.

Several men amongst the troupe of retainers did the same. Whether they were his relatives or subordinates was unclear, but the sentiment appeared genuine.

I inclined my head as a show of graciously accepting the gesture.

Three members of the combined retinues, including the man who had given cause for the original apology, fell back several steps in a panic and reached for their weapons. Earning castigating glares from their masters.

To be fair, even sitting down, I was twice the height of the tallest man present, and the discussion of cannibalism was almost certainly still circulating within their minds. I was large enough that biting a man in two was not outside the realm of possibilities. Assuming, of course, that I ever had cause to do so.

However, now that I had the opportunity to pay more attention to them. Those who had reacted the most poorly appeared to bear identifying markings on their armour matching that worn by Ji Daesung. Which would explain why he seemed to be taking their reaction the most poorly.

“The rhythm of the drums changed,” I commented conversationally to Yi Gim. “Is that a signal that the danger is less severe?”

Visibly relieved by the excuse to change subjects, Yi Gim nodded gracefully in agreement. “Indeed it is. Until we are certain that the danger has passed, the drums will continue. However, as you have noticed, the rhythm and intensity announce our expectations to all within the city so they may react and prepare accordingly.”

While it wasn’t as direct as issuing Quests might be, it certainly had the advantage that it didn’t require literacy to achieve the desired results.

An intense burst of Chi abruptly drew not only my attention but also the attention of everyone present.

“WHERE IS HE?!!! WHERE IS THE BASTARD WHO MURDERED MY SON?!!!” A grief-stricken voice demanded. “SURRENDER HIM NOW AND I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATHS QUICK!!!”

“This is?...” Do Jung shared an anxious glance with Seon Hyun-Ki and Yi Gim. The tone in his voice suggested that he knew who the voice belonged to but was hoping he was wrong.

“Hong Lei...” Yi Gim confirmed grimly, “Grand elder of the Hong clan...”

Perfectly capable of seeing where things were headed, I slowly rose to my feet and began to stretch.

“No, this is my responsibility,” Yi Gim insisted. “I owe you too much already. Please, allow me to settle this matter.”

“If you insist...” I shrugged in a show of indifference.

After everything that had happened, I assumed Yi Gim probably wanted to make the most of the opportunity to remind his subjects of his strength.

Before he could leave, I withdrew an ornate crimson jade cutlass from my Storage Ring and offered it to Yi Gim. “This was meant to be a gift,” I lied.

Ochram had made dozens of such weapons, experimenting with the means of developing weapons for use by the Cultivators among my subjects. The Spiritual Jade of the blade could serve as a battery, providing an external source of Chi that could be drawn upon during battle. A small energy gathering Formation running down the length of the blade would, hypothetically, allow the sword to regenerate its reserves independently of the owner over time.

It was an early effort, to be certain. However, the Empowered Spell that strengthened the blade was my primary cause for offering up the weapon. I had taken several risks saving Yi Gim’s life and safeguarding his position. The last thing I wanted was for him to be cut down in an honour duel.

Armour would have been better, but I had nothing on hand that wouldn’t clash with his cultural aesthetic. A weapon could be explained away easily enough. Armour was far more difficult to explain, and would only invite further speculations regarding his personal competency.

Or at least, those were my thoughts behind limiting myself to the cutlass.

“I...This...” Yi Gim slowly shook his head but was unable to take his eyes off the sword. “It is too much...” He breathed, grimacing as if the words caused him immense pain. “I cannot accept this...”

“I insist,” I tilted my fingers and dropped the cutlass.

As I had hoped, Yi Gim’s awe of the sword compelled him to snatch it from the air before it had a chance to fall against the dirt in the street.

“It is an early effort by my refinement specialist,” I explained, partially for the outsiders’ benefit and to raise Yi Gim’s prestige. “I am not familiar with such weapons, and it is many times too small for me besides. You would be doing me a favour in testing its strength on my behalf.”

Yi Gim glanced discreetly toward Seon Hyun-Ki, Ji Daesung and Do Jung. “If it is the sincerest wish of my trusted ally, how can I refuse?” He bowed, balancing the blade of the sword on both palms. “Thank you for your gift.” Conjuring a scabbard from his Storage Ring, Yi Gim sheathed the cutlass and affixed it to his waist. With a final curt nod of thanks and one hand on the hilt of the cutlass, he marched off toward the breach in the wall.

Seon Hyun-Ki, Ji Daesung and Do Jung made small bows, politely excusing themselves before leading their retinues after Yi Gim.

Despite my initial intentions to remain uninvolved, the incoherent shouting from beyond the wall and the clash of steel became too much to ignore.

Rising to my feet, I began making my way toward the breach.

A scraping sound at my back gave me pause. Looking over my shoulder, I found one of the Ogres carrying my machete. On the smaller side, even for the wild Ogres, the awkward length and weight of the machete resulted in the tip of its spine dragging across the ground.

“F-For Tyrant!” The small Ogre, Mud, insisted with a nervous stutter, jostling the machete in his arms excitedly to show his eagerness to obey.

It occurred to me that I must have lost track of the weapon at some point during the battle.

Created from the Empowered Shape Stone Spell, the machete was impervious to mundane sources of damage. Its short trip across the street pavers had left shallow scars in the stones and mortar. Given The state of the surrounding streets and the wall looming ahead, the damage was negligible.

“You retrieved this from the battlefield?” I asked, taking my time to enunciate each syllable clearly. The Ogres were not particularly bright, and if I wanted an accurate answer I needed to make sure I wasn’t being misunderstood.

Mud nodded his head vigorously, causing the tip of the machete’s spine to clatter against the street. “Mud do!” The little Ogre confirmed eagerly.

“Why didn’t you hand it over sooner?” I pressed, curious to hear the reasoning behind carrying the machete around instead of returning it.

Mud’s brow devolved into a mass of thick wrinkles as he considered the question. After several long moments of silence, he appeared to have arrived at his answer. “Sarge say-” Mud cleared his throat and stood a little taller by straightening his back, “-No talk when Sarge talk! Do things Sarge say! Mud talk, Mud hit!” He spoke with an almost cartoonish quality, imitating the larger Ogre Sergeants, who were in turn imitating their human drill instructors. Mud beamed with pride and cast a wary eye at one of the nearby Sergeants, who gave Mud a calculating glare in return.

No doubt, if I wasn’t present, Mud would likely have received a beating or some other form of punishment. Unless I was misreading their intent, which was entirely possible. While Ogre expressions were about as subtle as Orcs, certain cultural differences ran contrary to what my Western sensibilities and social conditioning expected.

“So you were waiting until you had a chance to speak with me alone?” I guessed, trying to keep things simple.

Mud nodded.

Credit where it was due, he had taken his original orders and expanded upon them in a way I hadn’t expected. Assuming I was giving credit to the right motivations.

“Follow me,” I ordered and continued toward the breach.

Mud giggled and guffawed with happiness as he began jogging to keep pace, causing the machete to clatter against the street in a weird musical accompaniment.

Ogres up and down the road stopped their gorging and stared at Mud with envy. Which was fair enough. However, it was the glares of the Sergeants that made me realise I had made a mistake.

I had just made Mud a target.

Until this moment, the Ogres had a simple hierarchy. The largest were the ones in charge and were given the greatest privileges.

Glancing over my shoulder, it quickly became clear that Mud hadn’t noticed.

I ‘could’ order the Ogres to leave Mud alone, but I had experienced enough bullying on Earth to know that such orders would only make things worse. I wouldn’t be able to think of every potential means of harassment, and the more I sheltered him, the worse it would get.

The only real option at this point was to remove him from their influence outright. Which would almost certainly make things just as bad if he was ever to return to the ranks.

Short of knocking Mud down, publicly humiliating him and setting him firmly back in his place, keeping him in my immediate vicinity would be the best means of protecting him.

“ENOUGH!!!” The same voice from before howled in rage.

Passing through the breach, I found Yi Gim exchanging lightning-fast sword strikes with an old man with long white hair and flowing crimson robes.

Seon Hyun-Ki, Ji Daesung and Do Jung were similarly engaged against four men wearing the same robes with the addition of breastplates and helmets.

“YOU WILL SURRENDER HIM TO ME!!!” The old man in crimson robes roared, brandishing a large ruby in his left fist. “SURRENDER HIM NOW!!! OR I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE REALM!!!”

The ruby pulsed with an internal light, sending waves of powerful energy flooding in all directions. Golden script encircled the ruby and trailed up the old man’s arm before dissipating in the wind.

As if sensing my presence, the old man turned away from Yi Gim and stared back at me with absolute hatred burning in his dark sunken eyes. “YOU!!! YOU TOOK MY SON FROM ME!!!” He howled with rage. “NOW I WILL TAKE EVERYTHING FROM YOU!!!” He clenched his fist around the ruby.

For a moment, there was absolute silence.

Yi Gim and the other Cultivators, including those on the side of the enemy, leapt backwards dozens of feet in a single bound, anticipating danger.

Translucent cracks spread across the sky and small pieces began raining down like shards of a broken mirror, revealing an inky black void beyond.

Large clawed crimson fingers reached out from the void, anchoring into the edges of the sky bordering the void and sending new cracks emanating outward as whatever lay within attempted to draw itself out.

Blood streaming from the cuts made by the shattered ruby in his hand, the old man howled with demented laughter. “A TREASURE EVEN MONARCHS FEAR!!!”

A dark crimson face with shark-like teeth appeared within the void and began to descend slowly.

“BEAR WITNESS TO ABSOLUTE DESTRUCTION!!!” The old man screamed, his face twisted in a  deranged smile. “FACE YOUR END AT THE CLAWS OF A DEMON LORD!!!”

The creature within the void opened its mouth, causing the air to ripple like water. No sound passed its lips. Instead, the distortions carried a wave of absolute silence in its wake.

<PAIN!!!> Kwan’s consciousness shook my own before abruptly all but cutting off our connection.

Pain erupted within my head, causing me to stagger and nearly fall. Crimson blotches appeared in the corners of my eyes and I could feel the blood beginning to well within my ears.

The creature’s gaze drifted, its serpentine eyes settling on me. Thick bloody tears fell from its eyes and struck what I could only assume was some form of invisible barrier at the mouth of the void. Despite its tears, the creature’s mouth twisted into a wide tooth filled smile.

Something tried to enter my mind but recoiled before it could bring more than a token degree of pressure to bear.

The creature’s smile faltered, its eyes narrowing with uncertainty.

The probing touch came again and retreated just as quickly as before.

The creature’s gaze shifted behind me and it appeared to have regained its confidence.

I felt the pressure on my mind for a third time. This time via proxy.

The creature’s face recoiled and it looked toward the walls.

Fleeting applications of pressure made it obvious that the creature was targeting more of my subordinates. Most likely hoping to find someone with low Willpower. Unfortunately for it, all of those challenges were defaulted back to me.

Realising its dilemma, the creature changed targets yet again.

The old man’s laughter abruptly turned to screams of pain and terror.

Sinews and muscles ran like water as bones broke themselves apart over and over again, twisting and bending as they took on new forms.

Having witnessed as much each time I transformed before a reflective surface, I continued watching with a wary eye while evaluating my options.

The smartest move would be employing the Banishment Spell. The creature’s arrival and blatant act of Possession made it the exact target the Spell was made for. However, there was a problem. The creature within the void had not disappeared or changed locations. It was still up there, slowly drawing itself closer and eroding the edges of what I could only assume was its prison.

Leaving it in two places at once.

As I continued watching, I became aware of my mistake. A nearly imperceptible stream of ephemeral crimson energy was flowing out from the creature and was entering the old man’s broken and misshapen flesh. Fueling his continued transformation.

Left with the uncertainty of how much MP would be needed to Banish the creature, I decided to err on the side of caution and withdrew a barrel of Mana Potion from my Storage Ring. Hesitating for only a moment longer, I downed the discoloured brew in one large gulp.

Ignoring the burning sensation of the alcohol, I could feel the new MP beginning to circulate through my body. Gathering that MP I set my focus on the creature within the void and prepared to cast my Spell.

“Wait...” The ruined remains of the old man raised a misshapen hand.

The space between us evaporated in an instant, leaving only a handful of feet between us.

“We...can...negotiate...” The twisted thing wheezed.

“No,” I replied confidently. “I don’t think we can.” The thing had attacked me at the first opportunity it got. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, it tried to do the same with my subordinates and subjects.

Nearly twice the old man’s original height, the thing wearing the old man’s skin stared back at me from behind milky white eyes. “This...is...unwise...” It warned in a dry rasping voice. Its neck popped, crackled and crunched as it turned to face Mud. “The...weak...will...suffer...” It threatened with a grin, revealing a mouth full of broken teeth and bloody ruin.

That was enough.

Without giving further warning, I conjured a stone spear from my Storage Ring and drove it through the chest of the old man’s broken body. “Banishment!” I growled, twisting the shaft of the spear and hooking the anchoring spikes into its stolen flesh.

Right away, I could tell that the MP I had on hand wouldn’t be enough. Worse, I might not have enough HP to maintain the attempt through Sorcery either.

Unable to stop the Spell, I only had two options. I could ride it out and hope for the best.

Or...I could take another risk...

Faced with the prospect of losing HP either way, I decided to Empower the Spell with my blood.

Ignoring the pain, I conjured Healing and Mana Potions from my Storage Ring and downed them in rapid succession using ym free hand. After exhausting my limited supplies, I began gorging myself on my emergency provisions, ripping and tearing through meat, gizzards and bone in a near-frenzied state.

Even with these measures, my MP and HP continued to drop.

The broken body of the old man bucked and flailed its limbs around with spastic abandon as if it was being electrocuted on a Saturday morning cartoon. However, the thing sheltering inside of it showed no signs that it was being driven out.

Making matters worse, the thing seemed to be growing stronger, drawing in more of its power at a vastly accelerated rate.

Without warning, one of the old man’s twisted arms seized the spear shaft. A half a second later, claw-like fingers on its other hand swiped at my left hand. The fingers and sharpened nails shattered on impact with my gauntlet but reformed themselves in close to a fraction of a second afterwards.

“No...” The thing wheezed with the same deflated and understated voice. “Stop...this...” It seized the shaft of the spear with both hands. However, instead of attempting to draw itself closer to try and strike at my exposed face, it tried to dislodge itself from the spikes, barbs and crossguard.

Quickly overcoming my surprise, I changed my grip on the spear and drove the head of the spear down into the ground, staking the creature in place. Now, if it wanted to free itself, it would need to draw itself over the entire spear shaft to escape. A feat that would be made all the more difficult with my right foot driving down on its pelvis.

“Stop...” The thing wheezed. “Anything...Name it...”

I glanced up toward the creature in the sky and was relieved to find that it appeared to be in a similar state of distress to its puppet. Instead of drawing itself closer, it seemed to be trying to push itself away, although to little avail. It had also grown noticeably smaller, having lost what I guessed was close to a fifth of its original size.

“Submit.” The demand slipped out of my mouth before I even realised what I had said.

“Submission...” The thing wearing the old man’s skin croaked pitiably. “No...Never...again...”

I twisted the spear and increased the pressure on the thing’s abdomen. All the while ignoring the disgusting sensation of the bloated organs and ropes of muscles moving beneath my foot.

I shrugged indifferently. I hadn’t intended to make the offer in the first place and was under no compulsion to argue the matter. The old man had claimed the thing in the sky was a Demon Lord, and I had no reason to willingly take on such a headache when I was on the verge of being rid of it.

Or was I?

Setting aside my emotions and taking a few moments to concentrate, I realised that I had been operating under a potentially dangerous misunderstanding. The Demon Lord was not being Banished at all, it was being imprisoned and bound within my spear.

Like an embalming machine connected to a corpse, the Spell was draining the Demon Lord’s energy through its puppet proxy. Contrary to appearances, the form looming in the sky was not a physical presence, but one made of energy. Meaning, the Demon Lord’s mind was being transferred alongside its power.

The puppet’s current boost in strength was due to the Demon Lord’s resistance and a testament to its will. Somehow drawing energy away and empowering its puppet before the energy could enter the spear.

Sensing movement in my peripheral vision, I found Yi Gim staggering in my direction. He had cast off his helmet and had dark crimson trails of blood running from the corners of his eyes and from his ears. Jade cutlass in hand, he pressed determinedly onward, his gaze firmly locked on the flailing flesh puppet pinned on my spear.

Adjusting my grip, I held up one hand to signal for him to stop. My eardrums had already repaired themselves, but I had no way of knowing if Yi Gim would recover nearly as quickly.

Yi Gim stared back at me for several long tense moments before slowly nodding his head in agreement. He then motioned to his ears and shook his head, perhaps guessing at my train of thought.

With my MP in a state of freefall and his communication token compromised or otherwise destroyed, we had no choice but to trust one another.

Creating a temporary energy-gathering formation centred on myself, I did my best to cycle my Chi and draw the traces of mana from the surroundings. However, the violent and desperate thrashing of the Demon Lord’s puppet made it difficult to maintain a decent level of concentration. Which directly impacted the amount of mana I could gather.

Mud appeared in my peripheral vision, wobbling unsteadily on his feet and with my machete raised above his head. With a savage snarl, Mud brought the blade of the machete down with all the force he could muster, cleaving through the puppet’s right arm.

The puppet shrieked in pain or fury. The amputated arm withered at an impossibly fast rate, the gnarled fingers curling and drawing tight into the palm like a grotesque spider.

Mud roared back at the puppet and heaved, raising the machete for another strike.

“Wait!...Wait!...” The puppet rasped, but Mud was indifferent to its pleas, having been deafened like nearly everyone else.

The machete fell a second time, shearing off the puppet’s right leg at the knee.

Just the same as the arm, once removed from the puppet’s body, the leg withered and its retracting tendons caused the amputated limb to briefly spasm in the dirt.

Mud nodded grimly to himself and raised the machete for a third time, lining up the blade with the puppet’s right hip.

“No!...” The puppet hissed, abandoning its assault on the spear and raising its left arm as if to try and ward off the imminent attack.

Mud ignored it, bringing down the machete for a third time. However, his aim proved poor and the blade fell hard against the puppet’s right thigh, breaking the bone and hacking a curving slice into the flesh, but leaving the remaining portion of the limb attached.

If I wasn’t protected by my stone-plated boots, I would have taken the botched amputation far more seriously.

Mud scowled and yanked the machete free for another try.

“Mercy!...” The puppet gasped, losing its left hand and half the left forearm as Mud lost his balance and the machete fell across the puppet’s chest.

Casting a glance skyward, I felt a surge of relief upon discovering the Demon Lord’s body had shrunk to the dimensions of an average human. Assuming the size of the Demon Lord’s body was relative to its remaining energy, I was on track to complete the Empowered Banishment and still have just over half my HP to spare.

Perhaps recognising its final chance to negotiate was at hand, the puppet raised its head and stared up at me with its empty white eyes. “Parley?!...” It wheezed pitiably, flinching as Mud prepared for another strike.

“Submission, or eternal imprisonment,” I replied grimly, motioning for Mud to wait a moment. If I had to, I would have no problems burying the spear beneath a mountain in an isolated territory and throwing away the proverbial key. As an unknown that presented a host of potential dangers, I was inclined to rescind the offer and just be done with it.

The puppet’s head rolled back lifelessly against the dirt and a corrupted notification appeared before my eyes and was followed by several more before an uncorrupted notification took their place announcing the Demon Lord’s recruitment.

Just as the old man had claimed, the creature now residing within my spear was, in fact, a Demon Lord. While interesting, the Species was far less interesting than the accompanying title.

Purge Operative {Tier One}.

As disturbing as the body of the title was, the implications of the tiered rankings were far more unsettling. A fact that was made worse with the understanding that the Demon Lord was almost certainly one of the ‘heavenly forces’ that had driven Yi Gim and the other Monarch Cultivators from their previous world.

Suppressing the urge to panic, I was now incredibly thankful that I had decided to Empower the Banishment Spell. If I hadn’t there was no telling what might have happened. For all I knew, Banishing the Demon Lord would have returned him to his kind and potentially opened the door to future reprisal.

Ambushing an unprepared enemy was one thing. Surviving an ambush in turn was another thing entirely. A lesson I had learned only too well.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 80 - Wolves among sheep - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 80 - Wolves among sheep - Part Two

The posturing and boasting of the Hong clan’s Cultivators had abruptly ended after their spokesman was yanked from his flying sword and driven face-first into the street. Exercising my Earth Affinity and indulging Kwan’s request had felt good in the moment, but it had also given me cause to reflect on my sudden recklessness.

While I was fairly certain my Heart Demons had not been given sufficient time to aggregate to dangerous levels, I decided that visiting the temple at the next available opportunity would still be a good idea.

“You dare?!” The Hong clansmen cried in near unison. Each man reached for a sword carried on their waist.

“I do,” I replied calmly, remotely seizing control over jade pendants and stone beads carried by the clansmen and slamming them to the ground alongside the primary representative.

If they were revealed to be Yi Gim’s allies, I was prepared to apologise and make amends. However, their behaviour thus far led me to believe that they were driven by opportunism rather than loyalty. Which made their allegiances almost beside the point.

I had felt them casting out their senses. Felt them judging me and my subordinates, convinced we possessed inferior Cultivation and eager to abuse the perceived difference in power.

“I represent the interests of my Monarch,” I repeated coldly. “And I will not tolerate such disrespect.”

“As is your right!” Yi Gim called out loudly from down the street. He was making his approach on foot and affecting a calm and unhurried demeanour.

“M-Monarch!” The Hong spokesman sputtered, straining his neck to face Yi Gim. “These mercenaries have insulted my Hong family and openly spat upon the rule of your auspicious dynasty!”

The other Hong clansmen swore fervently in agreement. All the while smiling maliciously and staring at me from the corner of their eyes. It was obvious that they thought they had me trapped.

“Swear upon your Dantian!” Yi Gim replied coldly, his smoke-stained face hard and uncompromising.

“M-Monarch! That is too much!” The Hong Spokesman cried with a hint of fear masked by intense incredulity. “As an honoured elder of the Hong clan, I swear upon the name of my Hong family that my words are true! This should be enough!”

Yi Gim stopped a dozen feet away from the prone Hong clansmen and scowled. “And if I say it is not?” He replied in a deadly calm tone.

The Hong spokesman cringed.

The airship began to adjust its course and was now headed in our direction. Its angle of approach would cut past the breach entirely, so I was not immediately concerned for my subordinates' safety.

Using my mana, I erected five pillars concealed within the nearby buildings. Using the pillars as a foundation, I then expended a small amount of Chi to form a temporary Formation before investing more of my Chi.

Yi Gim didn’t appear to be aware of the approaching airship but my activities had managed to catch his notice.

The Hong clan’s spokesman began to laugh. It was a weird and unhinged laugh that sounded like it belonged in a movie. “I will not debase myself before you any longer!” He barked savagely. “This is the hour of our ascension!”

An incandescent sequence of rotating scripts formed before the prow of the ship.

“Surrender!” The Hong spokesman demanded with a snarl. “Surrender and we might allow your women a place in the Patriarch’s harem!”

Yi Gim’s disgust matched my own. Before he could bring his sword to bear, I had used the Hong spokesman’s beads to crush his own throat. Yi Gim removed his head outright with a single smooth strike from his sword less than a second later.

No longer held by his will, the Chi and internal energy flooded out of the spokesman’s body and into the Formation, bolstering its reserves.

The cries of fear from the other Hong clansmen were lost as a torrent of superheated plasma ignited the air and rolled over a shimmering orange barrier above our heads.

As I had hoped, the Fire Affinity within my Chi was absorbing the attack and leaching away its strength. Unfortunately, the lack of oxygen in the vicinity presented a different and equally pressing danger.

After five seconds the stream of fire guttered and died.

Several dozen smaller projected formations sprang into being along the portside as the airship came about. Streams of pressurised air, water and fire raked across the barrier, searching for weakness. Except for the air-based attacks, the majority unintentionally strengthened the barrier instead of depleting its energy.

“As I thought!” Yi Gim growled bitterly. “Nothing but cowards!”

“Mercy!” Cried one of the Hong clansmen.

“I had nothing to do with this!” Cried another.

“That your elders would so willingly sacrifice you to forward their schemes is not surprising,” Yi Gim observed dryly. “However...Sacrificing a fellow elder...Now we can see the depth of their commitment.”

“Is the airship valuable?” I asked without taking my eyes off of the airship. If I could get my hands on three or four of them, my counterattack against the beetlemen would require a far smaller force than I had initially anticipated.

Yi Gim was taken by surprise and took a couple of moments to regain his composure. “Several fortunes...” He replied hesitantly.

I reflected on the fact that I hadn’t seen other airships since my arrival. “Unfortunate...” I muttered with disappointment and turned to my champions gathered in the ramparts. “Champions! Clear the ship!” I ordered, tethering a Breach in their midst and above the deck of the airship.

Already low on MP I had to tap into my reserves to maintain the connection so all my champions could pass through to the airship.

The salvos from the airship came to a scattered halt and bodies began rolling and flying off of the deck. Most fell to the ground but a few individuals appeared to be fleeing the ship atop more of the overly large flying swords.

I terminated the Spatial Breach to conserve what remained of my MP.

“Do you have people who can capture it?” I asked, directing my attention back toward Yi Gim. “Or someone that can bring it down without destroying it?”

“No...But there should be a control Formation somewhere on the deck,” Yi Gim replied hurriedly. “The precise form varies depending upon the maker of the vessel. I should be able to locate it,” he offered but then winced as he considered the Hong clansmen’s flying swords on the ground.

Recalling that he had made his approach on foot, I could only assume Yi Gim wasn’t in a fit state to fly on a sword of his own.

Considering the Hong clansmen for a few moments, I made a decision.

Their superiors had attacked me with the intent to kill and seen the four surviving men as acceptable collateral damage.

I had no reason not to kill them and just be done with it. However, I decided not to. Even if it was just to prove to myself that I was capable of making that decision.

After choking them out with a length of chain, I offered Yi Gim one of my human-sized stone machetes.

“I’ll fly you up there with my Affinity,” I explained handing over the machete.

“I will just need to hold on I suppose,” Yi Gim replied with a strained smile.

I shrugged. “I would have offered something...larger, but I have others to consider,” I made a point of looking over at the monkeys draped in chains by the wall. Yi Gim didn’t know that I held only a token degree of control over three of the monkeys, and I wasn’t inclined to explain myself at this particular moment.

Yi Gim’s smile faded and he became deeply concerned. “Why have you taken those Beasts prisoner?” He asked in hushed whispers.

“Because we aren’t so different,” I replied calmly. “Because taking four prisoners removed thousands of combatants from the battlefield.” I stared Yi Gim down. “Because I am more than a simple-minded brute...”

“I...It was never my intention to...Ahem...” Yi Gim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I apologise. You have been an exemplary ally during these trying times and I failed to show you the respect you have earned.” He bowed solemnly and then turned his attention back toward the airship, which was now drifting over the city.

Satisfied, I invested my Chi into the machete and used my Earth Affinity to pull Yi Gim into the air and toward the airship.

He looked far more heroic and dignified flying through the air than I had expected he would.

“It’s strange seeing this side of you...” Nadine commented distractedly while dabbing an alcohol swab onto the small puncture wounds on the female monkey’s neck. With the potential infection sites sterilised, she moved on to smearing a clotting and rejuvenating paste that would accelerate the healing process. “Tim...” Nadine set down the jar and stared down at the crate of supplies.  “Do you hate us?...”

The suddenness of the question caught me off guard.

“No...” I slowly shook my head. It was something I had given a considerable degree of thought, on and off for quite some time. “I never hated you...”

Nadine looked up at me in shock. It was not the answer she had been expecting.

“I hated myself...I hated living...” I explained quietly. “Long before I met any of you...I wanted to die...I wanted everything to be over...I didn’t want to feel or to think!” I took a deep breath to try and calm myself down, to try and regain control. “But I couldn’t bring myself to end it and I couldn’t make the changes I needed so the pain would stop...When they killed me, I thought that was going to be it. I thought everything was going to be over. When it wasn’t...I gave up. I convinced myself that what was happening was my punishment and that I deserved it...It was just so much easier to do whatever I was told to do.”

My old self would have been mortified by confessing as much aloud, let alone in front of an audience. Somewhere along the way, I had stopped caring about such things. There were better places to have this conversation. That was a fact. However, the less-than-ideal circumstances also made the cathartic release that much more powerful.

I had spoken of such things with Lash and even Hana in private. Although not nearly as succinctly as I had done in this particular moment. Of course, it was only through talking it out on those occasions that I had gained the insight to piece everything together.

“I...I’m sorry...” Nadine apologised and looked thoroughly ashamed of herself, unable to even raise her head let alone meet my eye. “Even after I realised you were hurting, I didn’t stop it...I just kept pushing you...” She covered her eyes with one hand and shook her head regretfully. “Even though I knew it was hurting you, I kept pushing you-”

“You did,” I agreed. “And so did Emelia and Clarice.”

Nadine cringed and wrapped her arms defensively over her abdomen and chest.

“You also treated me with far more kindness than you had to.” It was an indisputable fact. After freeing so many Slaves and listening to their stories of abuse and torment, it would have been pretentious of me to in any way suggest our experiences were on the same level. “I had heard what you said about the Willpower stat. I knew how to break free from the beginning.”

Nadine stiffened like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. “Y-You knew?...” She croaked. Perhaps reflecting upon just how much danger they might have been in if circumstances had been different. If I had been someone different.

“Even if you had ulterior motives for doing so, it doesn’t change how you treated me.” I let out a nervous chuckle and shook my head. “As fucked up as it may be to hear, that was the kindest and most considerate anyone had behaved toward me since my Mum passed away...”

Cheeks wet with tears, Nadine stopped staring at the ground and looked up at me. “That...That is pretty fucked up,” she agreed, hiccuping slightly as she smiled seemingly despite herself.

I might have shed a few tears of my own if the dry air hadn’t already stripped a dangerous amount of moisture from my skin already. Then again, perhaps not. While the subject made me feel melancholic, it almost felt as if I was talking about events that had happened to someone else. Who I was back then and who I was now were two very different people.

“I’m sorry for springing this on you,” Nadine apologised awkwardly. “It’s just...After learning what happened to Fesk, to his sister...It’s all I seemed able to think about...”

I hadn’t known Fesk had a sister, but just from the context, and the fact that the Thralls had been the Vampyrs' Slaves, it wasn’t difficult to make educated guesses as to what may have happened to her.

“It’s...It’s why he won’t let Ophelia heal his scar...” Nadine reached for her throat but didn’t seem to be aware of what she was doing until after her fingers made contact. “I-I shouldn’t be talking about that!” She pulled her hand back and looked away. “It’s Fesk’s story to tell, not mine...”

Fesk’s choice was not as uncommon as Nadine might like to think.

Working in concert with one another, Ophelia and Sebet were capable of reversing just about any injury in under a minute. Sebet, in particular, excelled in removing scarrified tissue. However, the problem lay within the patients themselves. Not everyone wanted to put the past behind them. Viewing the erasure of the physical evidence of what was done to them as a betrayal of their core selves. A betrayal of lives long since lost.

It was a complex issue and one I preferred not to think about given its inherently depressing nature.

At a glance, I could tell that Kang and the smaller monkeys had been following our conversation. At least, my half of the conversation anyway. Another reminder of how strange the translation functions of the Labyrinths and their supporting systems functioned.

If Kang had doubted my word before, and he most assuredly had, then he now appeared somewhat open to the possibility that I might be telling the truth.

All it had taken was spilling my guts over a deeply personal subject in public...

The abrupt shift in the airship’s heading served as good an excuse as any to end my conversation with Nadine and redirect my focus toward the ongoing siege of the city.

The walls were holding. However, more Beasts were arriving on the horizon with each passing minute. Worse still, their average strength appeared to be increasing as well.

I now understood why Yi Gim had been so afraid of triggering a Beast Tide. It would only be a matter of time before the defenders became exhausted and were overrun. As strong as my Bodyguards were, they would eventually tire as well.

Evacuating the city made the most sense but I was uncertain whether Yi Gim had the capabilities of doing so.

And if he did, how many people would be left behind or otherwise lost in the chaos?

Of course, there was another way. Abusing the Supremacy Challenge to remove the city from the path of the Beast Tide. However, I doubted Yi Gim would agree to it. As trusting as he had been thus far, my proposal would undoubtedly push him past his limits.

Summoning additional forces carried greater risks but it was also an opportunity to expose my untested army to a large-scale engagement in a relatively controlled setting.

Removing the separated segments of a second banner from my Storage Ring, I aligned the threads and twisted the two halves of the long iron stave together. With the Beacon activated, I planted the banner into the street at my side and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long before a grizzled Human in his mid-fifties appeared before the banner. A dark surcoat bearing a fanged grinning face hanging over his magical plate and mail. “My Majesty!” Despite his advanced age, Lord Garrick wasted no time in falling to one knee and bowing his head, taking only the time needed to angle his scabbard to allow for the motion.

“I am calling my army to a full mobilisation in defence of this city,” I explained and motioned toward the breached wall.

“Understood, Majesty!” Lord Garick’s face appeared to shed twenty years as a fervent grin of anticipation settled onto his lips. “I will summon my senior staff at once so we may begin the briefing!” Rising to his feet, he removed a half-foot-long rod with a threaded tail and moved to the back of the banner. Aligning the tail with the matching hole, he screwed the rod into the back of the banner and activated a second Beacon that was powered by the MP supply of the first.

A little over two dozen men and women, the majority in their late forties to early sixties, appeared one by one as they answered the call of the Beacon. Only a third of their number wore armour, but all wore surcoats or uniforms bearing my sigil.

“This city belongs to my ally, Yi Gim. Its defences have been compromised by betrayal and sabotage. Leaving it vulnerable to the crisis taking place at this very moment.” The intensity of the gathered men and women’s collective gaze created a pressure that I was unused to dealing with and I had to pause so I could gather my thoughts again before moving on. “A relentless horde of Beasts, what the locals call a Beast Tide, is assaulting the city. Civilians have retreated deeper into the city and taken refuge where they can-” Or so I assumed since I had not seen signs of any civilians in the past half hour, “-and those who can bear arms have taken to the walls and streets in defence of their home. Your orders are to break the siege. I leave the means and methods at your discretion!”

“Understood, Majesty!” The assembled officers cried.

Lord Garrick spun on his heel to address his officers and began barking orders. Commandeering an empty nearby building to serve as his base of field operations.

Smaller Beacons were activated.

A flock of Harpies took to the sky with bows in hand and began engaging the flying Beasts in their own element. Intercepting them before they had a chance to make it to the defenders atop the wall. Serving not only as interceptors but scouts, select members of each flock made frequent trips back and forth between the battle in the sky and the officers on the ground.

Packs of Gnolls began scaling the walls, and under mundane banners bearing my sigil, took the place of the battle-weary defenders. Not that the local defenders abandoned their posts. Understandably, they remained nearby and kept a suspicious eye on those who had come to relieve them.

Thralls began appearing in their hundreds, establishing a screening formation around our position in the city. More organised and better trained in traditional military tactics and discipline, they were largely left to their own devices with little direct intervention from the senior staff and Human officers.

The return of my champions heralded the return of Yi Gim himself.

Despite donning a new helmet, it was obvious from what little I could see of his face that he was confused. “The situation in which we find ourselves is indeed most dire. However, while I must stress that I appreciate your assistance and the spirit in which it is so readily given...I find it troubling that so many mortals would be pressed into service...”

Mortals. It was a term Cultivators used when referring to those who lacked what they determined was a minimum acceptable level of Cultivation.

Outright admitting that my forces used a different system would no doubt cause problems. So I opted for a white lie.

“They bear treasures that compensate for their lack of Cultivation and have natural advantages besides,” I explained without going into further details.

Yi Gim’s eyes widened in surprise and he stiffly followed the movements of a Thrall patrol. “You don’t mean...Surely not all of them bear such treasures...” He whispered hoarsely.

“Not high-grade treasures,” I replied, avoiding the heart of the subject. “We have spoken of these treasures before. They are not as valuable as you believe them to be.” This was an outright lie. The more I learned about the Cultivators, the more I came to realise that treasures, magical items, were exceedingly rare. “We could make a deal for a consignment of weapons if you are interested?” I offered, eager to recruit Alchemists to support Jin’s production of Cultivation resources.

“I owe you much already...” Yi Gim sighed disappointedly, “And with the restorations to be made-” He motioned to the city at large. “-I am sorry, but I cannot justify such an expense...”

“You misunderstand,” I interjected calmly. “I am more interested in making the exchange for another favour.”

Yi Gim perked up immediately but took a moment to calm himself. “What form would this favour take?” He asked, trying not to sound overly eager.

“I want to recruit Alchemists who can prepare Cultivation materials,” I explained. “The Alchemists I have already can’t meet the increasing demand. I have the raw resources already and would prefer to export complete products rather than paying someone else for the privilege of selling those same materials back to me at a criminal markup.”

“Ah...” Yi Gim nodded to show he understood but didn’t seem particularly supportive. “Recruiting a clan or sect on the verge of collapse or financial ruin is one thing. However, dealing with the Alchemists and their guilds is another thing entirely...Alchemy requires a special mind and a substantial degree of training. The guilds hold a monopoly over the Alchemists themselves because they are the ones that identify the future Alchemists at a young age and bring them into the fold. Binding them with Oaths and the wealth and prestige their profession commands...” He smiled apologetically. “While there are some rogue Alchemists, their products are quite often inferior and even dangerous. I could not, in good conscience, recommend recruiting such individuals.”

“What about the guilds?” I pressed.  “Would it be possible to tempt a guild to relocate?”

Yi Gim shook his head and was about to reply but stopped himself and appeared to reconsider. “If anyone else were to ask, I would tell them it is impossible...However...Alchemists have a weakness I believe you are well positioned to exploit...” Yi Gim Chuckled dryly and shook his head. “It is your resources. Specifically, those of extreme rarity and high quality. Alchemists are always searching for such materials to fuel their research.” He made a stalling gesture. “The larger guilds are too firmly rooted in their respective areas of influence and jealousy would not allow them to permit their branches to take up such an offer. However, smaller guilds may be tempted to relocate, provided you are willing to...to...” Yi Gim staggered backward a handful of steps as the first platoon of Ogre infantry materialised in the street.

Just like the Gnolls and Harpies, the Ogres were wild recruits who had accepted a contract of military service in exchange for full rights and citizenship.

“Apologies...I had not realised how great your stature was amongst your own people...” Yi Gim commented with awe.

The largest of the Ogres were half my height and close to twice Yi Gim’s, striking a stark contrast as they marched past our position and toward the wall.

“Tha’s Tyrant!” One of the smaller Ogres exclaimed in a bad excuse for a whisper.

“Is big!...” Another Ogre rumbled in awe.

“Biggest!” Yet another Ogre agreed excitedly.

“QUIET!” Bellowed the largest Ogre, swatting an Ogre over the back of the head who had remained silent throughout. “You make Ugs boys look bad!” The Ogre, Ugs, growled angrily. “Look front! March!” He spared a nervous glance in my direction before determinedly fixing his gaze on the breach and ramparts.

Another platoon of Ogres appeared and the same scene played out more or less the same as the first had done.

“They hold you in such reverence...” Yi Gim observed quietly.

It wasn't how I had interpreted their actions, but I could understand why Yi Gim might have come to that conclusion. Most notably, because he didn’t understand what they were saying.

“It’s a cultural thing,” I explained. “It is similar with my wife’s people as well.”

“Oh,” Yi Gim politely signalled for me to elaborate.

“Size...height and bulk, are a societal virtue,” I motioned to Lurr and the Orcs over at the Ramparts. “My Bodyguards are a peak specimen in that regard, and I suppose I am for mine.”

“You suppose?” Yi Gim asked curiously. “I don’t understand. Are they not your people?” He nodded to another group of new arrivals.

“No...” I replied a little too quickly. “I mean...It’s complicated...”

Yi Gim said nothing and waited patiently for me to continue.

“They are my subjects, and you could say we share common ancestry...” I was trying to be careful not to say something I shouldn’t. So far as I was aware, Yi Gim still, somehow, believed I was fundamentally human. Mutated or altered, but otherwise human. “When I was reborn, reincarnated, I was alone.”

“Ah,” Yi Gim nodded in understanding. “I had thought your differences were related to your Bloodline or perhaps a Cultivation Inheritance,” he admitted sheepishly.

“It’s not entirely unrelated,” I lied, capitalising on Yi Gim’s uncertainties. “My children bear a stronger resemblance to me and their mother than them.”

“Which is to be expected,” Yi Gim agreed distractedly as he watched another group of Ogres pass by. “What are they preparing to do?” He asked. “Their bulk is too great to fight in the confines of the breach alongside the others...So why are they forming ranks-”

“If I were to guess, I would say that they intend to take the fight beyond the wall,” I observed neutrally while casting a glance toward the small group of senior officers coaching a handful of Ogre Sergeants, and one Mountain Orc Captain, through what I assumed to be some sort of battleplan.

“You are serious...” Yi Gim commented and made a self-deprecating snort while shaking his head. “Of course you are serious...Do your men not fear death?”

It was a good question. There were times when I had serious doubts. Then again, I was little better myself.

“From what I have experienced thus far, They will be in little danger,” I replied calmly. “As stronger Beasts take the field, that will no doubt change. However, at least for now, they will make a bigger difference fighting outside the walls rather than behind them.”

A lengthy silence passed between us.

“I will see what can be done to recruit the Alchemists you have asked for...” Yi Gim stated firmly. “However, I do not know how I am to repay you for your intervention in this crisis...”

I hadn’t intervened under the expectation of being compensated. So it took me a few moments to think of something Yi gim might have or perhaps have access to, that I would want.

Territory was always useful and presumably Yi Gim would be willing to part with some of the territories he had recently gained from the death of the Demon of the Fog.

Then again, perhaps it was better not to ask for anything at all. Generating further goodwill could have a significantly greater payoff in the long run. Especially given the basis of our formal alliance.

Then again, there was a potential transaction that could prove mutually beneficial to us both.

“This Hong clan and their fellow conspirators...I presume you wouldn’t feel put out if they were taken off of your hands?” I asked while doing my best to keep my voice even and steady.

“That would very much depend upon what you intended to do with them,” Yi Gim replied somewhat hesitantly while looking down at the four unconscious prisoners bound at our feet.

“Those directly involved in this-” I motioned to the city at large, “-will face a punishment fitting for their crimes. As for the rest...They will be given a second chance in a new environment.”

“A city for a city?” Yi Gim mused aloud, not sounding at all adverse to the idea.

“I didn’t say that,” I observed neutrally.

“And yet, it is what will most likely prove necessary...” Yi Gim replied wearily. “The measure of influence the Hong clan has within their sphere of political influence is only possible through the cooperation and obedience of dozens of lesser clans...” He sighed and made as if to rub at his temples before remembering he was wearing a helmet.

“So you would prefer to give up an entire city full of people outright?” I was surprised by Yi Gim’s conviction. All previous exchanges of territory had been made after evacuating and migrating the occupants. If we followed through on this proposal, it would mark a dramatic change in what was implicitly allowed in trade.

“I lack your means of uncovering traitors,” Yi Gim stated matter of factly. “And it is very likely that the city will soon declare itself in open rebellion. Assuming it has not done so already...” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Of course, I would be grateful for any leads your subordinates uncover regarding other traitors remaining within my Realm.”

“I would be willing to agree to that condition,” I agreed.

“You might think my choice to be cruel,” Yi Gim commented dryly. “However, putting down this rebellion would cost far more lives than a single city. The new territories on the northern border of my Realm have not yet been occupied, let alone pacified. In the time it would take to chase down the Hong clan’s leadership and mete out the smallest shred of justice, the north would fall into chaos...”

I could see where Yi Gim was coming from and couldn’t fault him for his logic. As brutal as it was to consider, sometimes, amputation was the only way to prevent a deadly infection from spreading.

With a payment all but formalised, Yi Gim and I engaged in the shortest Supremacy Challenge I had experienced thus far. Ending the Challenge a handful of seconds after it was initiated. Any fears I had regarding potential safeguards in the system against abuse were swept aside as I returned to Yi Gim’s Realm in the same place I had occupied moments before.

To maintain morale and provide an official narrative of events, Yi Gim excused himself so he could make his presence known and take control of the loyalist defence of the city.

Nadine’s projection had depleted the last of its MP during our conversation, leaving me alone with the four giant monkeys.

I levelled my gaze on Kang, the largest of the four monkeys. “I’m going to allow you to prove your loyalty and commitment. A chance to earn additional resources to aid in the resettlement of your people.”

Kang stared back at me for several long moments in silence and then averted his gaze. “Kang obey...” He replied, relaxing his body and releasing the tension in his muscles.

His capitulation had an immediate effect on the others. Causing them to become subdued and docile. However, it didn’t stop them from sneaking wary glances in my direction.

“Send children away?” Kang asked submissively, eyes still firmly locked on the ground as he motioned his head toward the three other monkeys.

“If that is what you want,” I agreed, more than happy to remove the dangerous variables they represented.

Kang nodded eagerly, his thick expressive features broadcasting extreme relief.

Opening a Spatial Breach, I pushed the three Monkeys through with my Earth Affinity and then severed the connection. With MP costs directly linked to the mass of individuals travelling through the Breach, I was brought uncomfortably low on MP yet again. However, I considered the exchange to be firmly in my favour overall.

With his children functionally serving as hostages to ensure his good behaviour, I would be able to lend Kang more trust than I would have otherwise been able to justify in the circumstances. It also allowed me to show Kang that I was willing to cooperate with reasonable requests and that I wasn’t everything he no doubt feared me to be.

Offering Kang his staff, I dropped the chains from his arms and shoulders and returned them to my Storage Ring.

Kang accepted his staff and made a quiet series of ook noises while bobbing his head, gaze still determinedly averted from my own. Had he not spoken less than a minute earlier, I would have thought Kang was a trained animal from a Hollywood movie set.

Turning my back on Kang, there was a tense moment where I expected him to strike me from behind in an opportunistic ambush. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Kang had moved but only so he could fall in line behind me.

The idle ‘whispers’ and chatter amongst the Ogres multiplied tenfold as I passed through their ranks. Even a few of the Sergeants joined in before the Mountain Orc Captain began hollering for order.

Armed with clubs, morningstars, maces and hammers, the Ogres wore magical heavy plate armour over padded gambesons. The armour had the effect of increasing the Ogre’s bulk, and a few of the smaller Ogres seemed to have stuffed their breastplates in an attempt to appear bigger than they actually were, with sleeves and corners of loose bedding hanging from the gaps.

Tempting as it was to explore the absurdities of Ogre fashion and the weirdly specific insecurities serving as its motivating force. I had more important things to be getting on with.

The ramparts were a bloody mess.

Mounds of mangled corpses were piled atop the rubble and impaled upon the stone spikes. Many more lay around in the surrounding area,

If left to continue as things were, the ramparts would be overrun within the next couple of hours. The trail of bodies that served as a record of my Bodyguards’ gradual retreat was proof of that undeniable fact.

Surveying the assembled Ogres from the top of the ramparts, I realised that I hadn’t appreciated just how many of them there were until that moment. There were hundreds of them and more were arriving with every few minutes that passed.

It occurred to me that the recruiters must have been far more proactive than I had anticipated, and I wasn’t sure how I should feel about that.

On the one hand, I had a pressing need for an army that could fight toe to toe with powerful monsters without suffering catastrophic casualties. On the other, there would be far more wild Ogres that would need to be integrated into Semenovian society than I had expected. There was also the lingering issue of whether they constituted a slave army in all but name.

Join me or die, was something I could justify when the intention was to return autonomy within a matter of hours or even minutes. Requiring thousands of service hours before extending the same was a grey area that became decidedly uncomfortable when individuals were being actively recruited en masse.

Citizenship through service had been an initiative so I wouldn’t have to butcher prisoners or maintain massive internment camps. It was a convenient means of assuaging my morals without compromising my responsibilities.

My attention was drawn to a group of new arrivals as an entirely different set of drum beats drowned out those coming from the centre of the city. An Ogre just a hair shorter than the Sergeants was striking a pair of padded clubs against a massive hide drum strapped to his gut. Despite sharing the same face as all the other Ogres around him, the childlike joy in his eyes and the tongue pressed firmly between his teeth in an exaggerated show of concentration made him stand out like a chicken amongst geese.

What came as an even greater surprise was the effect the drums had on the other Ogres. Within seconds of the drummer's arrival, the other Ogres had begun stamping their feet in time with the beating of the drum, amplifying the sound and causing the ground to tremble.

Then, they began to chant...

***** Mud ~ Yi Gim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Bay of Tranquility *****

Thinking had always been a chore that Mud loathed. Not only was it difficult, but it almost always went unrewarded. Often seeing Mud punished for having made the effort. Whenever possible, Mud made it a point not to think at all, sitting and doing nothing until deeply rooted instincts roused him to act in self-preservation.

That all changed when Mud was told about ‘the Tyrant’, an Ogre so huge he could snatch the sun and moon right out of the sky if he wanted. The Tyrant was so big even humans and other monsters worshipped his bigness.

Spindly and short, humans were weak and made bad warriors. But their small brains were always running around. Always on the move. Always...thinking...

So the humans started thinking for them.

Mud had never been so happy.

Doing what the humans said was much easier than thinking. It also let Mud relax without the need to worry if a many-toothed thing would be trying to eat him when he tried thinking again. Because if there was a many-toothed thing, the humans would just tell him what to do.

Standing in the presence of the Tyrant himself, everything just made sense.

Mud could feel the Tyrant’s mind moving about, thinking such huge thoughts that Mud could even hear some of them inside his head.

Mud could tell by the way all the other Ogres looked at the Tyrant that they could hear him thinking too.

“Tyrant! Tyrant! Tyrant!” The chorus of Ogre voices chanting in time with the drums was hypnotic, drawing Mud in and pressing the Tyrant’s thoughts into his head.

<Battle approaches...> From the top of the spike-covered hill, the Tyrant raised one massive arm.

A near absolute silence descended as Mud and the other Ogres became deathly still, following the Tyrant’s unspoken command.

“I have sworn to defend this city and its people from the Beasts beyond these walls!” The Tyrant rumbled, his voice like crashing boulders rolling down a mountainside.

A quest box appeared in front of Mud’s eyes but disappeared before he could say the words like the humans had taught him to do.

“Fight in my name! Prove to me your worth!” The Tyrant commanded. “Drive them back from the walls! KILL THEM ALL!!!” He roared, raising his spiked club high and splitting the spiked hill in two as he charged into the space that lay beyond.

Mud’s savage warcry joined the chorus of his brothers and his feet and legs began moving on their own. There was no need to think, only to act. The Tyrant had done the hard part for them already and now all they had to do was obey.

Mud was one of the first to pass through the broken wall and follow the Tyrant. One of the first to witness his raw power and savagery with his own eyes.

Beasts too numerous to count were pressing in all around them and the Tyrant was felling as many as Mud had fingers on his hand with each swing.

The awe Mud felt for his Tyrant’s might was quickly overtaken by primal rage as one of the Beasts DARED to strike at the Tyrant’s back.

Gripping his club so tight his bones ached, Mud slammed head first into the strange hissing thing and drove it back into the seething tide of fur, fangs and flesh. Trusting in the Tyrant to do all the thinking for him, Mud released a savage roar and lashed out with his fist and club at anything that moved and wasn’t identified as a follower of the Tyrant.

On each side of him, Mud’s brothers crashed into the living wall of Beasts with bone-shattering force, throwing the Beasts back through sheer weight and fury.

Afraid of being left behind, Mud pushed forward, savagely beating down a horned thing with too many teeth that managed to leap over his brothers’ heads and was preparing to attack them from behind. More of his brothers rushed past to join the charge, but others lingered, joining Mud in killing the Beast.

“FOR TYRANT!!!” Roared a Sarge, raising his flag high with one hand and caving in the skull of a slithering Beast with his hammer held in the other.

“FOR TYRANT!!!” Mud roared, joining his voice to his brothers’ and pressing forward as a surge of new strength spread through his body.

Surrounded by his brothers, Mud impatiently waited for the enemy to reappear. All the while, he watched the Tyrant relentlessly pushing forward ahead of them.

The charge had slowed and Mud was glad to hear that he was getting closer to the enemy. Little by little, the brothers around him were spreading out and making room, bringing the enemy closer to brothers like Mud who were stuck behind them.

Face to face with the enemy again, Mud pressed one arm into the Beast’s mouth to keep its teeth busy and pulped its spine with his club.

Another Beast tried to use the opening to sink its claws into Mud’s face but a Sarge caught it by the neck, crushing the bones between his fingers and making it go limp.

“No hurt!” The Sarge growled angrily, dropping the dead Beast and slamming his fist down on the head of another. “Hurt, no good!”

Mud nodded vigorously in agreement, bashing his club into the thick meaty leg of another Beast.

“Tyrant says, protect little ones!” The Sarge cried, reaching down a Beast’s throat and ripping out a trail of its organs.

Mud continued nodding and swinging his club. It made perfect sense to him that they should protect the humans. They were so small and easily hurt.

“Protect you!” The Sarge insisted, smashing his fist into the snout of a tusked Beast trying to gore Mud’s belly.

You?

Several long moments passed while Mud continued clubbing the Beasts.

With so many things already being thought on his behalf, Mud had a surprising amount of mental energy to spare. Without meaning to, he began puzzling over what the Sarge had said.

Cracking the skull of another Beast, Mud knew he should have felt proud for doing as the Tyrant wanted, and he did. However, it didn’t feel as good as he expected it to.

An uncomfortable pressure had begun building in Mud’s head as the incomplete thought demanded more of his attention and energy.

The Tyrant roared and Beasts’ bellies exploded from the strength of his swings, ripping and tearing their bodies apart and sending blood, bones and organs flying over the nearby Beasts, blinding them.

Mud looked back at the Sarge and couldn’t help but notice how small he was when compared against the Tyrant.

“Sarge big...Sarge small too...” Mud muttered, his head already too full to continue his thought in silence. The pressure reached an almost painful intensity and Mud was so surprised that he stopped attacking.

The Sarge had been talking about him!

Enraged, Mud pushed forward.

If there was one thing Mud was certain of, he was not small, and he was going to prove it!

New ART WOO!

I really like how these turned out ^^

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 80 - Wolves among sheep - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 80 - Wolves among sheep - Part One

Assisting Yi Gim to the ground, I began gathering my MP in preparation to Summon Wraithe to tend to his wounds. Perhaps guessing at my intentions, Yi Gim began shaking his head in refusal. However, we both abruptly lost interest in one another as an urgent horn call peeled through the smoke.

“No...” Already pale from blood loss, Yi Gim’s face grew ashen with dread.

Before I could ask what the horn call meant, a deep rhythmic rumbling came in reply from a different area of the city. Growing louder, layers began to take shape as more drums throughout the city joined the first.

The horn sounded again but was abruptly cut off.

“Is the enemy still loose in the city?!” I demanded, already sending a mental command to Kwan to cease feasting and return to my side. “What do the drums mean?!”

If they were intended as a warning or signal that the city was under attack, why hadn’t they been sounded earlier?

“The city is under attack...” Yi Gim replied grimly, withdrawing more items from his Storage Ring.

Scrolls, herbs, prayer beads and more began to orbit around him as he forced his wounded arm into a meditative pose before his chest.

“The Northern wall is breached...A Beast Tide has descended upon the city...” Yi Gim’s voice was barely more than a whisper, his face filled with despair and inconsolable rage.

Saboteurs and assassins. Yi Gim’s earlier transmission echoed in my mind. Combined with how badly Yi Gim was taking the news, I could only assume that the city’s more advanced defences were compromised.

I had a choice to make.

I could leave, very likely damning Yi Gim in the process.

I could seek out the defensive Arrays intended to protect the city and try to fix them. Assuming they could be fixed.

Or, I could intervene more directly and face the Beast Tide.

It was a day for making bad decisions.

Without saying a word, I began rising into the air.

Screams and desperate shouts began drifting through the smoke and a deep rumbling like distant thunder now fought against the steady implacable beating of the drums.

Launching myself forward through the smoke, I mentally took stock of my options.

My limited experience with the Cultivation System’s Beasts had left me largely unimpressed with their individual combat capabilities. However, the most powerful Beasts I had seen were something to be wary of. Not for their might but their intelligence and ability to control weaker Beasts. But that intelligence could also be considered a weakness.

A gap in the smoke revealed a towering wall close to a hundred feet tall up ahead. A section of the wall, approximately forty or fifty feet wide, had collapsed.

A ragged line of defenders stood atop the rubble desperately trying to hold back the unrelenting assault of Beasts converging on their position from the rolling foothills beyond. Bodies of the fallen defenders lay strewn amongst the rubble, savaged and mangled to the brink of barely being recognisable.

Beasts had already begun forcing their way through the gaps in the defenders' formations and had begun targeting the fleeing civilians.

Withdrawing a large flagpole from my Storage Ring, I took a firm hold on either side of the midsection and twisted the flag-bearing side in a clockwise motion. Sensing the Spell activate beneath my fingers, I hurled the flagpole at the collapsed section of the wall and used my Chi to anchor it deep into the broken masonry.

Propelling myself forward beyond the wall, I stripped my armour back into my Storage Ring and activated my tattoo, assuming my true form as I plummeted toward the ground. Gathering my MP, I reshaped the breach, forming the rubble into a bristling redoubt of pikes and spears.

Closing the breach would have stopped the Beasts' advance, but only momentarily. The breach provided easier access, drawing more of the Beasts than the surrounding walls, but not all of them. If I sealed the breach, the entire length of the wall would come under siege. Armed with claws as hard as steel, the Beasts showed no difficulties in scaling the wall. Which made funnelling them into a dedicated kill zone the preferable option.

Crashing into the ground, it took me a few moments to regain my wits.

Claws and fangs scraped and dragged across my bare skin but failed to penetrate.

Thrashing my arms I crushed a pair of horned wolves into the ground and drove myself to my feet.

A six-horned bull charged into my right thigh, sending a dull surge of pain racing up my leg.

The bull’s neck snapped from the impact, sending its body tumbling into a spike-maned boar that was charging from my flank.

Drawing my stone machete from my Storage Ring, I cleaved the head from an elephant-sized bear bearing down from my right and then severed the spine of a giant lizard with bright ruby and sapphire scales.

<FIGHT!> Kwan came leaping over the ramparts and barrelled headfirst into the oncoming beasts, tackling a lion and ripping its head free in one savage motion before leaping toward his next target.

Relying on momentum and brute strength rather than skill, I hacked and slashed at anything and everything that came within reach. Sparing no time to finish off the wounded and crippled, I kept pressing forward, driving a wedge into the seemingly endless tide.

Overcome by bloodlust, the Beasts ignored their fallen, trampling them underfoot in their desire to bring their horns, tusks, fangs and claws to bear.

My size didn’t appear to intimidate them in the slightest. Beasts, big and small alike, threw themselves at me with equal ferocity and disregard for their own lives.

Forced to close my second set of eyelids to stop blood from blinding my eyes, my vision was restricted to my immediate surroundings. Not that it made much of a difference.

“THE TYRANT CALLS!!!” Lurr’s familiar voice boomed from the direction of the breach and a bolt of lightning arced from the sky, striking several Beasts to my left and right. Leaving them charred beyond recognition.

“WE ANSWER!” Came a rumbling chorus of Orcish voices.

Thunderous explosions erupted from the ramparts accompanied by the savage war cries of my Orc Bodyguards.

“For the Tyrant!” A trio of human voices called.

“FOR TYRANT!” A guttural voice roared. Trask’s hunched and heavily muscled form appeared in my periphery moments later, scales slick with blood, flesh and fur hanging from his massive jaws.

Arrows began striking the flying Beasts from the sky, sending them into mouth-frothing seizures and convulsions as they ploughed into the dirt. “For the Tyrant!” A feminine voice hissed from beyond my field of view and low to the ground.

“Protect the city!” I ordered, waving my champions back toward the breach and the impromptu ramparts. “Protect the civilians!”

Trask, already engaged in battling a six-legged elephant, tore at its eyes with his claws and then ran back toward the ramparts.

Half blind, the elephant howled in pain and prepared to give chase.

Remotely forming the stone at its feet into a spear, I drove the head of the spear through its chest and into its heart, felling it on the spot.

Hacking my way through several more Beasts, I spied an isle of immobile flesh amongst the hordes stampeding over the distant hills. Briefly retracting my secondary eyelids, I discovered I was still too far away to make them out clearly. Enhancing my sight with the Keen Senses Spell, I released my machete and invested it with Chi, sending it whirling around my body to ward off attack while I was otherwise preoccupied.

Looking to the hills with enhanced vision, I was momentarily taken aback to find an organised army staring back at me. Armed and armoured in a similar style to the Cultivators of Yi Gim’s realm, it took me a few moments to realise that they weren’t human. They were monkeys.

Standing upright and at a distance, they were nearly indistinguishable from the human defenders atop the walls.

The largest of the monkeys stared back at me with cold calculating eyes, Raising one hand, he pointed to me with his spear and released a whooping shriek.

Three large monkeys pushed past their smaller kin and began charging down the hill.

Storing my machete and withdrawing my club from my Storage Ring, I began laying into the nearby Beasts in earnest, preparing the field for what I assumed was going to be a more intense engagement.

As the trio of giant monkeys drew closer, the other Beasts began giving me a wide berth, as if flowing around a barrier only they could see.

The lead monkey had bright red fur and carried a large two-handed cleaver-like blade. His bloodshot eyes locked onto my club and I felt a foreign energy source attempt to worm its way into the stone. The monkey slowed its approach and glared with almost comical intensity.

Rebuffing the intrusion with a momentary surge of will, I formed a trio of spears in the monkey’s path and drove them toward his guts.

Confirming my suspicions, the spears shattered as the monkey radiated a pulse of energy bearing the Earth Affinity. Shrieking in aggravation, the monkey sent the broken shards racing back in my direction.

Seizing control of the shards with my Earth Affinity, I redirected their trajectory into the Beasts passing by on either side.

Despite his evident anger, the red-furred monkey slowed its approach so the two other monkeys could catch up.

The smallest of the three monkeys, carrying a large ornately decorated bow, came up short and began loosing stone-headed arrows. Exercising his Earth Affinity, the arrows raced and circled through the air in an attempt to strike me from behind.

Confident that I possessed a stronger Earth Affinity, I could have redirected or struck down the arrows. However, I wanted to gauge the strength of the enemy, so I allowed five of the arrows to strike my back.

The arrows failed to penetrate but I felt a mild stinging pain on the level of a paper cut, suggesting I had likely received a handful of shallow cuts. Having failed to deal even a single point of damage collectively, I closed my second set of eyelids and made the archer a low priority. If the archer were the only thing I had to deal with, my passive healing would easily outpace their damage.

The second largest monkey had red fur just like the first but carried a long-hafted bladed spear. After joining up with the other monkey, the pair charged. The monkey with the cleaver banked to my left while the monkey with the spear approached to my right.

While I had been willing to take the arrows as a test of resilience, I was not willing to do the same with the cleaver or spear.

Again I felt a foreign influence attempt to gain purchase on my club, and again, I rebuffed it without effort.

Energy gathered around both of the monkeys' weapons and I could only assume it was in preparation for some kind of special attack. Perhaps even a Technique.

Sure enough, the largest monkey, still twenty feet shy of closing into melee proper, swung his cleaver in a vicious vertical arc, sending a crescent of pure energy racing toward me.

At the same moment, the second-largest monkey leapt forward and thrust his spear towards my chest. Dozens of phantasmal copies of the bladed spearhead appeared in orbit around the original, disappearing and reappearing again in rapid succession.

Aggressively leaping away from the crescent of energy and striking at the shaft of the spear, my club briefly made contact with one of the phantom blades and I was shocked to discover that it possessed a physical presence. If the attack hand landed, there was no telling how much damage I may have taken.

With the largest monkey at my back, I grabbed at the other monkey’s spear in a gamble to reduce his combat effectiveness. If I could wrest it free of his grip, I could remove it from the battle by depositing it in my Storage Ring.

Unfortunately, despite the advantages of my height and reach, the monkey was quick in identifying what I intended and just as swiftly committed to a vicious counterattack. Cancelling his Technique, the monkey adjusted his grip and smashed the butt end of his spear against my knee and sent a jolt of pain up my leg.

Momentarily losing my balance, I was in a poor position to deflect the larger monkey’s cleaver and lost my club parrying the cleaver away from my chest.

In recognition of the danger, I used my Storage Ring to don my stone plate armour instantly and used my Earth Affinity to pull my club back into my right hand.

The pair of monkeys' initial confidence was gone and they exchanged wary looks with one another. Eleven feet tall, the monkeys were nearly twice as tall as their smaller kin and the human defenders on the wall. But they were less than an eighth of my total mass and half my height.

Unarmoured, I was an obstacle that could be overcome through teamwork. Now, I was a threat on an entirely different scale.

Blocking the cleaver with my outer forearm, I backhanded the larger monkey and sent him tumbling backward from the force of the blow.

At the same time, the monkey with the spear attempted to drive his spear up through the plates protecting my back. He succeeded but the blade of his spear failed to deal any damage, stalled out against a fine mesh of stone chain-mail.

A gift from the Dwergi Earth Mages, empowered by my blood. The chain hauberk was equally as strong as the plates that served as my outermost defences.

Rounding on the other monkey, I ignored his spear and delivered a heavy blow to his left shoulder, shattering his pauldron and breaking the bones beneath. Spun about by the force of the blow, the monkey raised his spear to try and fend off my next strike, losing his spear and receiving an opportunistic kick to the guts as I leveraged the opening for an advantage.

Arrows pelted against my armour like rain, skittering over the immaculate crimson surface without so much as leaving a mark.

Snatching up the spear, I claimed it as my own and made it disappear.

Having lost his spear, the monkey began limping away while clutching at its left arm.

Following my gaze, the smallest monkey quintupled its efforts, loosing arrows with blinding speed to cover the other ape’s retreat.

No more effective than they had been before, I seized the injured monkey with my free hand and took a blow from the largest monkey’s cleaver with the back of my breastplate. Squeezing just hard enough to make it clear I could crush him to death if I wanted, I turned to face the larger monkey, taking another blow against my thigh.

Rather than becoming intimidated by the sight of his immobilised companion, the larger monkey bared its fangs and snarled. Eyes bloodshot with rage, the monkey leapt into the air and brought its cleaver down on my head.

Or tried to.

Accelerating the momentum of my club with Earth Affinity, I hammered home a blow to his right hip with a meaty crunch that sent the monkey barrelling off course and tumbling into the path of the stampeding Beast Tide.

“Brother! No!” The words caught me by surprise, as did the feminine inflection. Looking for the owner of the voice, my gaze settled on the archer who was now furiously loosing arrows into the Beasts trampling over the larger monkey.

While I had suspected the monkeys were intelligent, I hadn’t anticipated being able to understand them.

Crippled and half trampled to death, the larger monkey drew upon its Earth Affinity to form a tortoise shell of stones to protect itself.

Ignoring the danger it was in, the monkey already trapped within my grasp began clawing and biting at the plates protecting my hand and forearm. Just like the other monkey, its eyes had turned red with rage.

Unwilling to kill the Beast, I cast it aside. Taking care to send it in the same direction as its wounded companion.

I turned my helmet to give the appearance of staring at the archer and then waited for the giant monkey still waiting on the hill to make its move.

Sure enough, making a show of broadcasting my next target appeared to be all the push the giant monkey needed.

Leaping into the air, the giant monkey drew a pair of crescent-bladed axes. Spinning in the air to build and capitalise on the momentum, the giant monkey hurled the axes with supernaturally enhanced force.

Batting the first axe away with my club, the shock of the impact stung my hand and disrupted the nerves, allowing the second axe to knock the club from my grasp entirely.

Despite appearing to have disarmed himself, a large ornate wooden stave capped and winged with carved jade materialised in the giant monkey’s hands just in time to deliver a hammer blow against my right pauldron.

Most of the impact was absorbed and dissipated by my armour, but a small portion managed to pass through into my neck and the meat of my shoulder.

Using the staff for leverage, the giant monkey flipped over my shoulder and delivered a second blow to the back of my right knee.

Ignoring the pain, I withdrew a staff of my own from the Storage Ring and intercepted a strike directed toward my head.  For a moment, our weapons remained locked in a stalemate with neither side able to secure an advantage. However, as the giant monkey lost its established momentum, I gained the upper hand and was able to cast him backwards and put distance between us.

Larger than the monkeys that had come before him, he looked closer to fifteen feet tall but shared their same lanky build. Unlike the other monkeys, this one bore a multitude of scars and wore a horned crown upon his brow made of jade.

I could see the complex thoughts taking place behind his amber-coloured eyes. Feel his anger and frustration.

“Surrender,” I demanded flatly, making no effort to argue my case or otherwise convince him to comply. I could tell that he wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. The only way I was going to convince him to surrender was through violence. However, I still deemed it important to make my position known in advance. That I was willing to end the conflict without resorting to killing them all.

Just as I expected, the giant monkey bared its fangs in anger and snarled. “Kang no surrender!” He thumped his breastplate hard, leaving knuckle dents on its surface. “Kang kill furless-thing!” Resting his stave over one shoulder, the giant monkey, Kang, hunched his back and broke into a three-limbed charge.

Content with remaining on the defensive, at least for the time being, I did my best to anticipate Kang’s intended avenue of attack. Sweeping low, my staff caught nothing but air as Kang leapt into the air and jabbed the butt end of his staff into my visor.

Mildly disoriented, I was struck twice more before I managed to raise my arm and deflect the next attack, throwing the enemy off his rhythm and forcing him to retreat.

Pressing forward, I weathered several more strikes before successfully jabbing the giant monkey in the chest. Denting his breastplate and knocking the wind out of him long enough for me to close the gap and slam my left fist into his face.

Reeling from the blow, the monkey was too stunned to defend himself and I managed to land four more punches before he struck me with a glancing blow to the side of the head and scrambled away. Howling with rage, the monkey drew back his staff and began gathering his energy for an attack.

A piercing scream from further up the hill brought us both to an immediate halt.

Looking toward the source, I was surprised to find Kwan had skirted the battle and pinned the female monkey. Binding and constricting her arms and legs as he prepared to bite her head off.

“Wait!” I ordered, shouting the words aloud for the giant monkey’s benefit. I hadn’t intended to take hostages to get what I wanted, but I wasn’t going to surrender the advantage that had presented itself either. <Threaten, but do not kill!>

Kwan released a low dangerous hiss positioning his jaws over the female monkey’s head with deliberate and exaggerated care. All the while staring the giant monkey down. <Dominance!>

“NO!” Kang howled with rage and an undercurrent of concern I recognised all too well. Taking two steps up the hill, he came to an abrupt halt as Kwan’s fangs pressed hard enough to draw thin trails of blood. Eyes burning with rage, the giant monkey bared his fangs and pointed a clawed finger back toward Kwan and his hostage. “Release Soomin! Release Soomin NOW!!!” Kang roared, striking at his chest and the ground in a display of intimidation.

“Surrender,” I countered calmly. I wasn’t certain of the exact relationship between Kang and the female ape he had identified as Soomin, but it was obvious that he cared for her a great deal. Letting go of that leverage when there were so many more lives at stake would be beyond reckless.

Kang howled and indulged in another fit of rage, dropping his staff and clawing at his head. “NO! KANG WON’T!” Blood ran down his clawed fingers. “RELEASE!” Kang repeated desperately. “RELEASE!!!” As thick tears of blood began running down his cheeks, I became aware of a dozen other signs I had been too preoccupied to notice sooner. I became aware of the malign intelligence staring back at me from behind Kang’s bloodshot eyes.

Before Kang or his hidden passenger could react, I seized his head in the palm of my right hand, incidentally making contact with Kang’s crown.

The assault on my mind came just as I feared it would, striking hard and as deep as it could manage.

Enduring the pain I mentally locked in on the enemy’s presence and began to retaliate, bearing down on it with all the will I could muster.

I felt it baulk at my touch, writhing and contorting in an attempt to free itself from the pain I carried with me, that I shared through my very presence.

The attempts by the presence to free itself intensified a hundredfold and then collapsed entirely. The fragments of its remaining will disintegrate in the endless burning pit of pain contained within the ARtefact lodged in my brain.

No longer empowered by the enchantments that had contained the malign presence, the jade crown cracked and crumbled under my palm.

Releasing Kang’s head, I took a step back to allow him the opportunity to recover. However, I did not lower my guard and I made a point of stowing my staff away and claiming his.

Just because a third party was pushing him toward certain actions, did not mean he was an innocent pawn or bystander. The eagerness of Kang’s subordinates had all but confirmed as much already.

Sparing a glance back toward the city, I was relieved to see that my champions and Bodyguards had the breach well in hand. More defenders had taken to the walls and were holding their ground.

A flying ship approaching from the east gave me cause for concern. Unfamiliar with the symbols representing the local clans and Factions, I had no way of knowing if they were friends or foes. Or worse, opportunists who would take stock of events before choosing a side.

A sudden movement drew my full attention back toward my enemy.

Kang had collapsed to his knees and remained upright through the support of his long lanky arms. “Furless?” He croaked uncertainly, bloody drool dribbling down his chin. “Furless free Kang?...” he stared up at me with unabashed and almost childlike confusion.

“I did,” I confirmed bluntly.

Kang’s thick features expressed a flurry of shifting emotions before achieving a state of relative calm. “Furless release Soomin?” Kang asked, pointing back toward Kwan and his hostage.

“After you surrender,” I replied firmly.

Kang scowled and his brow furrowed with dissatisfaction.

“You have nothing to gain and everything to lose by choosing to fight me,” I warned coldly, making a point of looking over at Kwan and then the two wounded monkeys still desperately leveraging their Earth Affinity to avoid being trampled.

It was subtle. Far more subtle than I would have given a savage anthropomorphic monkey credit for. However, my armour was infused with my own blood and bent to my will above all others. So Kang’s attempts to leverage his Earth Affinity to seize control over my armour and take me hostage failed before they had even begun.

Backhanding Kang’s jaw, I removed a length of stone chains from my Storage Ring and used my Earth Affinity to snake the chains around Kang’s arms and bind them behind his back. “I wouldn’t try that again,” I warned with a growl. “I have given you a choice, and to make things perfectly clear, the alternative is death. I don’t take Slaves...”

Surprised and no doubt confused by his failed gambit, Kang tried breaking the chains with brute strength and then his Earth Affinity, failing on both accounts.

“Surrender, become my subordinate, and I will take you and your people away from this place,” I promised. “I will give you land to call your own and rule over as you see fit. A land where your people can live in peace. If that is what they desire.”

Kang stopped struggling and stared at me distrustfully. “Furless promises,” he sneered with disgust. “Fish swim. Bird flies. Furless lies!”

I decided to take a calculated risk and removed my helmet.

Kang’s eyes widened in shock.

“Furless? I won’t argue against that,” I shrugged and conceded the point. “But I am not human.” I looked back toward the breach and raised my right arm. “LURR! TO ME!” I commanded.

There was a clap of thunder, an explosion of airborne debris and then Lurr’s crimson armour could be seen streaking across the open ground at impossible speeds.

“My Tyrant!” Lurr roared and held his bloody axe at the ready.

“Remove your helmet,” I commanded.

Lurr immediately moved to obey.

“He is not human either, and most of them are not either,” I argued, motioning to my forces holding the breach. “They all live beneath my aegis and serve because they choose to do so.” I donned my helmet and had Lurr do the same.

Kang’s features writhed in response to another internal conflict. However, before he could arrive at an answer, a horn aboard the approaching airship released a decidedly aggressive call.

Despite my misgivings, the ship did not target the city and instead altered course toward Kang's army.

Following the path of the ship with his own eyes, Kang appeared to have made his decision. “Kang...Kang chooses life...” His shoulders slumped in defeat for a handful of seconds before looking to his people, who had themselves begun to panic.

Unsure what would cause such a large host to become so quickly unsettled, I received an answer as beams of superheated plasma lanced from the ship and left smouldering trails of burnt flesh and bones through the Beast Tide.

Understanding that I would need to make an exception if I wanted Kang’s loyalty and not his enmity, I began gathering my MP and mentally segregating a territory to serve as a holding ground. Outside of my realm, what would have normally taken a fraction of a second and a passing thought now took me the better part of a minute and my full undivided attention. By the time I was ready, Kang was on the verge of outright panic himself.

“Tell your people to enter the portal!” I commanded and tore open a fifty-foot-wide Breach on the far side of their formation, farthest from the approaching airship and its death lasers.

Confused, Kang hesitated for just a moment, long enough for another laser to strafe through the Beast Tide. “FLEE! HIDE IN CAVE! FLEE!!!” Kang howled, spurring his people into near-immediate motion.

Already panicked, they didn’t need to be told twice and broke ranks the instant they were given the excuse. Not that I could blame them for it. I wasn’t particularly thrilled at the prospect of standing in the open either.

By the time the last of the monkeys had passed through the Breach, my primary mana reserves had been all but depleted. Cycling my Chi helped me recover a portion of it, but I was too distracted to perform the cycling optimally.

“Fetch those two there!” I ordered, directing Lurr toward the two large monkeys sheltering from the Beast Tide. <Release her and return to me!> I mentally commanded, willing Kwan to return to my side. I didn't want him to be mistaken for one of the Beasts, or for someone aboard the airship to have that excuse. “Tell them to cooperate. I can’t protect them if you don’t,” I insisted while looking toward Kwan and the female monkey. “I need more time before I can send you all to safety,” I explained tersely when Kang failed to act immediately.

“Soomin! Jii! Jung! Come! No attack!” Kang barked in a commanding yet strangely pleading tone. Confirming that they were almost certainly more than just his subordinates.

Kwan obediently released the female monkey, Soomin, reluctantly sliding his way back down the hill and away from the Beasts that were not surging through the space the monkeys’ army had recently abandoned.

After hesitating and appearing to evaluate her chances of breaking through the Beast Tide, Soomin slung her box over her chest and broke into a loping run on fours down the hill while trying to keep her distance from Kwan.

Lurr returned with the others and I began draping them in more lengths of chain. Intended more for appearances than restricting their actions, I was surprised Kang appeared to understand the difference, snarling and staring down the two males when they made signs of resisting. However, when it came time for Soomin’s turn, he appeared far more conflicted.

As a concession for his assistance, I dipped into a portion of my recently recovered MP and formed a pair of stone shackles to bind her wrists. With all four of the monkeys possessing a high Earth Affinity, the shackles were practically worthless as a restraining measure. As an added precaution, I left a scattering of arcane markings on the surface of the cuffs to serve as misdirection.

Sensing no energy within the manacles, the three smaller monkeys exchanged confused glances while Kang gave me a small nod of thanks or perhaps approval.

Leading the monkeys back toward the breach, I sent Kwan on ahead, eager to see him out of immediate danger from friendly fire.

Lurr dutifully trailed behind, covering our retreat and hacking down any Beasts that strayed too near.

Traversing the mounds of corpses preceding the ramparts, I made a point of acknowledging each of my Bodyguards and champions as I passed. Except for Lurr and a small handful of my Bodyguards, everyone else had accepted the call of the beacon in a suboptimal state. Given the lack of warning I had provided, it came as no surprise that many were missing portions of their armour, secondary weapons and other combat supplies. Which made me appreciate their willingness to answer on such short notice.

Faine, Jayne and Randle were no exception, missing the lion's share of their plate armour, save for breastplates and helmets worn over padded gambesons. To their credit, they had not presumed to take positions on the front line and appeared to have reshaped the breach and ramparts to better serve as a kill zone while casting offensive Spells from the rear.

Trask and Itzal had both gone without armour altogether, wearing nothing but their everyday clothes. In Trask’s case, his scales were thick enough to serve as armour on their own, so I wasn’t as concerned. However, Itzal’s scales, as a Naga, were flexible but not particularly resilient, and her long thick tail was a large target. If she didn’t have the benefit of our combined Synergies, I would have taken her aside then and there and given her a stern warning regarding her earlier foray into the open ground beyond the walls.

As it stood, Itzal appeared to be enjoying herself immensely, loosing streams of ‘borrowed’ arrows into the approaching Beasts.

After cresting the rubble of the breach, I discovered a small contingent of what I assumed to be city guards and militia positioned on the street on the other side. Open crates of arrows stowed against the nearby buildings matched those Itzal had stashed atop the ramparts.

Archers nervously raised their bows at my appearance but were just as quickly commanded to lower them by what I assumed was an officer amongst the guards.

Receiving an anxious but respectful nod from the man I assumed to be an officer, I led Kang and the monkeys down the rubble and settled them down with their backs to the wall. “They are my prisoners, and are not to be touched!” I commanded. “To be clear, I am a representative of your Monarch’s ally and speak with my Monarch’s full authority! So unless your Monarch commands you otherwise, NO ONE is permitted to act in defiance of this order! Understood?!”

The officer was first to act, standing at attention. “Understood!” He barked and was quickly followed by the professional guards in unison and a staggered echo from the militia.

Probably a low-ranking officer, he probably couldn’t muster enough clout to serve as more than a political speedbump, but it was better to make the effort and have some warning than not. Besides, the threat of crossing a Monarch would probably give most people pause on their own, regardless of who was delivering the threat.

Turning my attention back toward the monkeys, I was forced to consider what I should do with the pair of injured males. Just because Kang had surrendered, did not mean his subordinates would do the same. Especially after taking a beating and being left to stew in their pain. Another gesture of goodwill wouldn’t go amiss, but there were complications to consider.

Summoning Wraithe was out of the question. I had no way of knowing for certain how many of the locals knew of her existence or how they would react to her appearance. The exotic composition of my relief force was no doubt already pushing the limits to breaking point.

With Wraithe disqualified, my mind defaulted to the next best option and I Summoned a projection of Nadine instead.

Already generally aware of the situation, Nadine acted contrary to my expectations. She hesitated.

Drawing a crate of basic medical supplies from my Storage Ring, I knelt on one knee to bring us closer to eye level so I could ask what was wrong. Then I noticed the abdominal bulge beneath her tunic.

Nadine was pregnant.

Extending my senses, I felt a brief pang of panic after discovering what felt like an empty cavity. Only to realise that I had never Summoned a projection of a pregnant person before and that the Spell wouldn’t also just Summon a projection of the egg as well.

“I uh, I mean, we-” Nadine looked expectantly to her right and then turned in a full circle with mounting embarrassment before realising she was alone.

“You’re pregnant,” I interjected, ending her protracted source of embarrassment.

Blushing self-consciously but smiling all the same, Nadine nodded. “We were going to tell you but we just thought you would already know...And you were busy...”

“I get it,” I replied, understanding how easy it was to lose track of things and have everything begin revolving around the pregnancy and how easy it was for everything else to fall away. “And I had kind of assumed after I was petitioned so it could all happen...”

“Right...” Nadine chuckled awkwardly.

“Congratulations by the way,” I commented sincerely. “You’re going to be a great mum.”

Nadine looked surprised for a moment and then smiled with gratitude. “You really think so?” She asked nervously, still smiling despite herself.

“Definitely,” I reassured her and allowed myself an indulgent chuckle at Fesk’s expense. “I’ll bet Fesk is freaking out.”

“How did you know?” Nadine demanded, evidently stunned by my predictive insight. “Oh...Duh!” She slapped her forehead and grinned while shaking her head self-deprecatingly.

Our little reunion was cut short by another near-deafening chorus of horns sounding from the airship.

“We can talk more when I return,” I apologised and prepared to terminate the Spell.

“Wait!” Nadine called out just in time to stay my hand. “What’s going on here? You needed my help to patch some people up, didn’t you?” She looked pointedly toward the monkeys and grew somewhat uncertain of herself.

“Only if you are feeling up to it,” I qualified, uncertain of how the transferred stress of the memories would affect her pregnancy.

Nadine held up one hand, signalling for patience as she swivelled her hips and cautiously bent at the waist. Appearing to be pleased with the results, Nadine grinned. “Oh, I’m definitely up for it! And don’t be surprised if I make you Summon me again later! I could use a good night’s sleep!”

“That...Hrm...That’s an interesting use for the Spell...” I admitted after taking a moment to consider things. “I’ll remember that for later.”

With a spring in her step, Nadine began gathering supplies from the crate. All the while groaning appreciatively whenever she had to bend over or pivot her hips.

Leaving Nadine to her work, I gave the monkeys a silent warning. If she came to any harm, I would visit it upon them a hundredfold in return.

***** Yi Gim ~ Yi Gim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Bay of Tranquility *****

Yi Gim watched the patrolling Hong clan airship with unreserved suspicion. It was difficult not to in the current circumstances. Deploying an airship and fueling such powerful destructive Formations was a profound expense. An expense Yi Gim’s closest allies within his realm had not appeared capable of justifying.

Still healing the wounds he had received from the assassins, he nonetheless could not afford to show weakness before a clan whose political allegiance was so uncertain.

Consuming as many Elixirs as he dared, Yi Gim spared one last look toward his family sanctuary to confirm that the defensive Arrays were still holding true and then set out to meet the Hong clan’s relief force.

With the surviving retainers watching over his family within the sanctuary and the city guards deployed on the walls, Yi Gim had little choice but to proceed alone. He took a certain measure of pride in witnessing several of the minor clans' and sect branches had mobilised alongside the city guard and made a mental note to reward them once the crisis was over.

Just because protecting the city was also in their best interests didn’t mean he should take it for granted. Yi Gim had learned that lesson the hard way in his youth and was loath to repeat it.

With the citadel in ruins, the city was crippled to the point that Yi Gim wasn’t certain it would be able to recover within his lifetime. The defensive Arrays and scouting Formations had taken generations to establish, such was their ruinous expense.

Yet, without them, the city would slowly wither and die.

Mass migrations would strain political alliances and shift the balance of power, breeding resentment and sowing potential seeds of rebellion.

Yi Gim looked up at the Hong airship again and scowled.

That was assuming rebellion had not taken root already.

Contingency contracts were by no means uncommon, and Yi Gim had survived such a contract before. However, the assassins and saboteurs had acted too quickly for their actions to be motivated by retaliation for the Demon of the Fog’s demise. Furthermore, the assassins had not declared whom they were engaged in avenging. Another oddity that fed into Yi Gim’s mounting paranoia.

Several high-ranking Cultivators descended from the airship of flying swords. However, instead of flying toward Yi Gim to pay their respects or at least offer formal greetings, they were headed toward the collapsed section of the wall.

Headed toward the Tyrant and what Yi Gim believed to be a relief force composed of his elite subordinates.

The uneasy feeling in Yi Gim’s gut grew worse.

What if this had all been the Tyrant’s plan from the beginning?

Yi Gim felt a deep wave of shame for entertaining such a thought and not casting out the moment it raised its ugly head.

The Tyrant had saved his life not even an hour earlier that same day. What’s more, he had Yi Gim in the palm of his hand and had made no hostile actions whatsoever. Even going so far as to defend Yi Gim’s city at the risk of his own life...

Gathering his Chi, Yi Gim withdrew a small one-man boat from his Storage Ring and deftly leapt inside. As he began circulating his Chi to power the Formation, the boat leapt up into the sky and began racing after the Hong Cultivators.

Although more Chi intensive to sustain than a Movement Technique, the enchanted boat was considerably faster and wouldn’t strain his already damaged channels unless he depleted his Chi entirely and attempted to power the Formation through internal energy.

The Hong Cultivators had a head start and arrived first.

As Yi Gim feared, they showed the Tyrant no respect at all and remained upon their flying swords. Making matters worse, they had drawn weapons and appeared to be making threats.

“-care not which Monarch you claim to serve!” A Hong elder in mustard yellow robes sneered contemptuously. “You will grovel in the dirt and BEG for my mercy! I am a Hong elder! A being so far beyond your feeble comprehension that you should rightfully call me god!”

The other Hong Cultivators snickered and jeered in agreement, seemingly convinced that the Tyrant, and indeed his entire relief force, would throw themselves to the ground at any moment and begin pleading for their lives.

“NO,” the Tyrant replied darkly.

The jeering stopped and the self-identified Hong elder began shaking with rage. However, before he could say a word, the prayer beads hanging over his chest constricted around his throat. His concentration broken, the elder toppled from his flying sword and landed face-first in the dirt.

Face hidden behind his helm, the Tyrant’s face was unreadable. However, Yi Gim couldn’t help but notice that the Tyrant's Familiar appeared particularly pleased with itself.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 79 - Death and Dominance - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 79 - Death and Dominance - Part Two

Having extracted Oaths from Wolf, Fox and Crow, I gifted them each a Storage Ring and sent them to collect fresh beast corpses to serve as materials for Jin’s Alchemy. Feng would remain behind on the mountain and serve the function of a supply depot, accepting the corpses from the others and storing them within a fourth Storage Ring with a larger internal capacity.

Feng would also serve as Jin’s minder while on the mountain and had explicit instructions not to allow Jin to wander beyond the protective barrier.

Too dangerous to allow outside of my supervision, Kwan’s training had to be put on hold while I made the arrangements. However, once I was finished, Kwan was ready to throw himself right back into it again.

While Kwan recuperated between skirmishes, I spent my time reading through the freshly translated books taken from the realm of Yi Gim’s rival.

Many contained the dictated notes of the dead Monarch’s research. Referencing acts of immense personal cruelty in meticulous detail. I managed to read three pages before setting the records aside in their entirety.

The Technique manuals were far less disturbing but became somewhat boring when read back to back. There were only so many times I could read the claim of ‘ultimate power’ without rolling my eyes and shaking my head with cynicism.

Every self-proclaimed master professed the virtues of their Techniques and made outlandish claims of invincibility. It just seemed to be the way things were done.

Which made it difficult to determine which Techniques I should learn for my personal use.

I didn’t have familial or cultural traditions to guide my preferences or mentors I could trust to make the decisions on my behalf.

Watching Kwan dodge the spiked antlers of a large deer, I decided to simplify matters and take his lead.

To the best of my knowledge, Reinforcement Techniques were practised to amplify or manipulate physical attributes. The exact combinations of offensive, defensive and utility-driven enhancements varied wildly from Technique to Technique. However, the majority possessed at least some measure of Damage Reduction and Damage Enhancement, enforcing a tiered ranking structure of combat strength amongst Cultivators.

The Cultivators I had fought thus far had been countered by the effects of Racial and Class Abilities, evening the playing field or outright skewing battled in my favour. Which, of course, would mean future battles would become that much more one-sided if I committed to acquiring and mastering Cultivator Techniques as well.

Unable to find a written copy of Kwan’s Technique, I settled for learning from him directly instead.

Curiously, my decision to learn the Iron Titan Body Reinforcement Technique was all it took to add the Technique to my Status.

Kwan’s limited ability to communicate and knowledge of anatomy made it difficult to understand what exactly I needed to do. However, after a few hours of trial and error, I was able to successfully initiate a self-sustaining current of Chi just beneath my skin.

What was strange was that the probationary status of the Technique did not disappear until after I began meditating as Kwan instructed. Focusing my mind on thoughts of striking and being struck by others. Dominating my opponents through raw endurance and strength rather than skill.

Quite familiar with the concept, I had chosen to actively reflect on my early experiences fighting the Orcs and Goblins on the first floor of the Hurst labyrinth. Remembering the vibrations that would pass up my arms as I struck Orcs with my club, the pain as their primitive weapons crashed into my flesh.

If I had been human, there was no way I could have survived.

The second element of the training required eating iron-rich foods, or liquids, and drawing that iron into the skin. However, this part of the training would only be effective after receiving physical trauma to the skin and straining the muscles beneath.

To that end, I decided to engage in an experiment.

Taking on my Human form, I was both surprised and relieved that the Chi circuit persisted through the transformation. It was a variable I hadn’t considered until after the transformation. So I was glad there didn’t appear to be any complications.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I asked myself one last time whether what I intended was a good idea. Unable to come up with a compelling reason to back down, I resolved myself to the imminent self-inflicted hardship and gathered my MP.

Donning a helmet as a precaution against potential brain damage, I conjured a staff and offered it to Ophelia’s projection. “This is going to sound strange...” I cautioned awkwardly. “But I need you to hit me-WOAH!”

I had barely finished talking before Ophelia jabbed the end of her staff at my bare chest.

“You said to hit you...” Ophelia retorted, narrowing her eyes accusingly.

“I did,” I admitted and hastily raised my arms into a defensive posture as Ophelia prepared for another strike. “But I wanted to explain why first!”

“Oh...” Ophelia nodded in understanding and lowered the staff.

“It’s for a type of training. It requires being the recipient of violence-” I explained while eyeing the staff warily.

“Which is why you want me to hit you,” Ophelia interjected matter of factly and without a shred of judgment.

“More or less, yeah,” I agreed.

“Okay,” Ophelia grinned and swung her staff into my right shin.

Barely registering the pain, I grabbed the staff but recoiled out of reflex as Ophelia rapped my knuckles.

If I were human, it would have probably split the skin, but beyond a faint pinch of pain, I felt nothing.

Growing bolder, I began actively intercepting Ophelia’s attacks with my forearms while trying to snatch the staff from her grip.

Seeing that her attacks were not causing me serious injury, Ophelia grinned all the wider and her eyes began to glow with a rich amber light. “Yessssss!” Compensating quality for quantity, Ophelia began striking the same places over and over with unsettling accuracy.

With each strike, the pain increased, eventually becoming bad enough that I lost control over my right knee. Losing most of my mobility in the process and making me an easier target.

Forced to abandon offence entirely, I weathered Ophelia’s blows as best as I was able. All the while internally counting down her projection’s remaining duration.

The upside to Ophelia’s manic onslaught was the increased MP drain incurred to maintain her projection. What could have been an hour became something closer to twenty minutes.

Ophelia disappeared mid-strike but her staff carried enough established momentum and force to send a painful jolt up my arm from my left wrist before falling harmlessly to the ground.

Unable to stop myself from wincing as I inspected my swollen fingers, I had to remind myself that the pain served a greater purpose. I had to remind myself again as I exsanguinated Kwan’s latest kill and combined the blood with rough flour to form a crude dough.

Most of the body's iron was in its blood. Although it didn’t amount to as much as people might think. If the blood bread didn’t work, I would have to think of other potential alternatives. While I found the idea of eating blood bread strange, I loathed eating liver and kidneys. There was something about the texture that had always made me gag.

Although it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Kwan showed an increasing degree of interest as the loaf continued to bake.

<Food?> Kwan tasted the air with his tongue and huffed at the dark brown mound uncertainly.

“I’m not sure you would like it,” I replied, uncertain if Kwan would be able to digest the flour without complications.

Kwan huffed unhappily and settled down to begin cycling again.

While it could definitely have used some salt, the blood bread wasn’t the worst thing I had ever eaten. Although it did sit heavy in my gut, it was a mildly distressing experience all on its own.

Cycling my Chi again, I tried to picture the iron in my stomach being drawn out and carried by the veins of Chi toward my skin.

As I continued to meditate, the pain began to subside, making it easier to concentrate and direct the flow of my Chi. Unfortunately, that increase in control did not appear to provide any noticeable benefits. Suggesting that the Technique itself would handle everything so long as I maintained the correct state of mind.

<Dominance. Strength!> Kwan repeated encouragingly.

I followed Kwan's advice and shifted my focus from the one-sided loss I had suffered at Ophelia’s hands and back to my encounters with the wild Orcs of the Labyrinth. The victories I had won through brute strength...

It felt like years had passed since then, but it had been only a matter of months.

Sensing an increased draw on my Chi reserves, I was surprised to find the automated circuit had extended beyond my skin and into my muscles.

Looking to Kwan for a reference point, I was equally surprised to find that he appeared to be undergoing the same change.

Checking my Status, I confirmed that my mastery of the Technique had reached eleven per cent and that it appeared to be rising. As my injuries healed, the progress began to slow.

Comparing Kwan’s progress against my own, I was inclined to believe that the artificial method was the more effective of the two. However, repeating the experiment for a second time left me feeling disappointed.

The changes made to my skin and the presence of the Chi circulating just beneath didn’t seem to have made a difference. My knuckles and the multitude of welts were just as swollen as before, and the pain felt more or less the same.

Despite being discouraged, I continued preparing another batch of blood bread while watching Kwan battle against what looked like a large and heavily muscled water buffalo.

My heart skipped a beat as the horns of the buffalo caught Kwan in the chest and sent him tumbling into the water. However, when Kwan reappeared, leaping from the water with fangs bared, there was no sign of his injury. Similarly, the buffalo’s hooves failed to leave any marks on Kwan’s scales either.

After reviewing his Status and confirming that Kwan had taken damage from the attack. I realised that the Body Reinforcement Technique must have played a part in downgrading the injury. Like a suit of armour, preventing penetration but unable to stop the concussive force behind the blow outright.

To test the theory, I conjured a low-level magical dagger from the treasury and lightly dragged the blade across my left palm. Failing to draw blood, I increased the pressure and tried again.

I repeated the test several times, increasing the pressure and amount of force with each attempt. It wasn’t until I tried stabbing my hand at full force that I managed to leave a shallow cut. Generating a disproportionate amount of pain in the process as the muscles and tendons were badly bruised.

I barely had a few moments to entertain delusions of near invincibility before remembering the first Monarch I had fought in a Supremacy Challenge. He had the means of not only cutting through my Ability reinforced hide but the magical armour I had been wearing at the time as well. So while the Iron Titan Body Reinforcement Technique would no doubt prove incredibly valuable as a defensive tool, it was by no means something I could just take for granted.

However, the defensive properties of the Technique did offer training opportunities I would not have otherwise been comfortable engaging in before. Notably, engaging in mock bouts with real weapons.

While waiting for my HP to recover, I noticed a new modifier had been added to both of my Status sheets. Strength and Toughness had both gained a single point bonus. Cross-referencing Kwan's Status, I found he had gained the new inputs as well, but they were both zero values.

As best I could figure, the reason I hadn’t noticed the changes sooner was because I had grown too accustomed to the existing Class and Bloodline bonuses. The fact that Kwan possessed neither a Class nor a Bloodline only served to confirm my theory that the new bonuses were the result of the Body Reinforcement Technique.

What didn’t make sense was the massive leap in my skin’s durability.

While my Toughness did increase my passive Damage Reduction through my Thick Hide Racial Ability, it shouldn’t have increased by such a significant margin. The only reasonable assumption I could make was that the Body Reinforcement Technique was providing a second stacking source of Damage Reduction. However, there wasn’t an official description in the Status I could use to confirm or deny the theory.

Recognising that I needed professional advice, I began mentally reviewing the list of Factions. Searching for the clan of Cultivators that I had recruited to serve as mentors and teachers for my children and the other nascent Cultivators under the Farmers Union Faction.

It didn’t take long.

After allowing Kwan time to recuperate, I exercised my authority and teleported us both to the general vicinity of the Faction Leader.

Suddenly standing before a lavish palace, decorated with vibrant silk flags and curtains bearing intricate and exquisite designs, it occurred to me that I should have spared a few moments to dress myself first.

Wearing nothing more than my armoured kilt, I locked eyes with the armed guards and glared in an open challenge to their authority.

After overcoming their initial surprise, the guards cast their eyes downward and fell onto bent knees. “The Oba clan recognises the esteemed Monarch!” The guards barked in near unison. Although it was unclear whether it was primarily intended to serve as a greeting or alert those within the palace.

Kwan preened pridefully, striking an intimidating pose and rumbling with pleasure. Mistaking the deference of the guards for genuine terror.

As I was preparing to address the guards, a small staggered horde of white and grey-haired elderly men and women began sprinting out of the palace. Leaping down the stairs and landing on the road with heads bowed and fists pressed together in a show of respect.

Behind them, men, women, teenagers and even children came streaming down the steps of the palace. Most wore simple clothing, suggesting they were most likely servants, while the core clan members wore dark robes accented with bright reds, orange and gold.

“How may the Oba clan serve the esteemed Monarch?” Implored an old man at the forefront of the gathering. My authority immediately identified him as the Faction Leader, Oba Shoji.

“It is a private matter,” I prefaced neutrally, uncertain whether the display represented a true representation of the clan's loyalty, let alone their potential trustworthiness. “I would speak with you alone.”

“As the Monarch wills,” Oba Shoji Oba Shoji waved one hand to his side, sending an invisible ripple of Chi through the assembled crowd.

As one, the crowd rose to their feet, heads still bowed and retreated into the palace. All except for Oba Shoji himself and an elderly man who appeared thirty years his senior.

“Please forgive this one for his impudence,” the elderly man, Oba Kei, apologised. “This humble servant wishes only to compliment the esteemed Monarch for producing such talented and magnanimous offspring!”

Kwan flicked his tongue, tasting the air above the elderly man. <Pete. Suzy. Momoko.> Impressions of each child were communicated through our link.

Pete and Suzy both had a portion of my authority, so they might have encountered the Oba clan while exploring. However, the thought of my children just wandering around was deeply unsettling.

Then I recalled their odd behaviour. How Pete and Momoko had been doing...’something’...manipulating my inner energy...

“You are my children's teacher,” I stated aloud, recognising Oba Kei’s role in events.

“It has been this one’s profound honour,” Oba Kei answered in confirmation.

“Then it is you I wish to speak with,” I decided. Convinced that trusting the man further would pose less of a risk than including anyone else. “You may leave us, Faction Leader,” I added, making my desire for privacy known.

“As the Monarch wills,” Oba Shoji bowed his head and retreated just as the others had done.

“Please, rise,” I ordered, uncomfortable with the idea of such an old man being made to hold such an awkward pose.

Oba Kei obediently rose to his feet but kept his head bowed.

“I will tell you now what I have told countless others. Bowing respectfully is more than adequate, and I would even accept a slight bow at the waist or kneeling on one knee. However, I will not tolerate the sight of free men and women grovelling on their hands and knees.” I took a moment to calm myself. “I would appreciate it if my thoughts on this subject are made known so it is not repeated.”

“It will be as the Monarch wills,” Oba Kei promised.

“Good,” I sighed and let the tension melt from my shoulders. “I require your expertise as a teacher,” I stated bluntly, pushing to the heart of the matter. “My Bonded Beast and I are engaged in learning the same Technique, but I could use advice.”

“Wisdom is one of the noteworthy advantages of age,” Oba Kei chuckled softly. “I will offer what insight it allows.”

“Regarding Body Reinforcement Techniques, what are considered the most effective means of training?” I asked, making no attempts at concealing my intense interest.

Oba Kei raised his head, revealing a pair of strangely intense emerald green eyes. “Begging pardon, esteemed Monarch, it would depend upon the Technique in question.” He furrowed his wrinkled brow and gave Kwan an appraising, yet respectful stare. “Body Refining Techniques have a trend toward testing and pushing the established limits of the physical form. The most efficient means of training is most often the most dangerous, carrying dire consequences for failure.”

I had more or less guessed as much already but remained silent. There was no point in seeking an expert's advice if I was just going to ignore it.

“Techniques that are compatible with both human and Celestial Beasts are incredibly rare...” Oba Kei slowly looked away from Kwan, and for a fleeting moment, gave me a piercing stare before casting his eyes downward again. “May this one ask which Technique the esteemed Monarch and his Bonded Familiar are engaged in mastering?” He asked politely.

“It’s called the Iron Titan Technique,” I replied while making an effort to disguise my eagerness for his insights.

Oba Kei frowned slightly and carefully ran a hand through his long wispy beard. “I...I must confess, I am not familiar with this particular Body Refinement Technique...” He apologised. “If this one might be so bold to ask, might I see the written description for the Technique?”

I felt a mild flush of embarrassment, realising that I may have done something incredibly foolish. “I do not have a written copy of the Technique,” I admitted honestly and decided I might as well go all in while I was at it. “I am learning the Technique from Kwan, my Bonded Familiar.” Adopting the elder’s terminology as a means of showing I was open to outside ideas.

“Ah...” Oba Kei nodded silently to himself and continued stroking his beard, returning his attention to Kwan. “The esteemed Monarch’s Bonded Familiar is a rare breed of Serpent...” He released faint tendrils of Chi that came just shy of touching Kwan directly. “An Abyssal Serpent?!” Oba Kei took an involuntary step backward before catching himself and reasserting control. “Apologies esteemed Monarch! I had not expected to bear witness to such a legendary Calamitous Beast in my lifetime!”

Kwan hissed pridefully and waved his dorsal frills.

“Calamitous Beast?” I asked, already losing track of the different names the Cultivators gave to the Beasts of their world.

“A term referring to the most powerful breeds of Divine Beasts...” Oba Kei choked out through his shock. “Legendary Beasts of providence!...To learn a Technique from such a Beast...” He slowly shook his head, lips opening and closing several times before staying firmly closed.

Taking it all as praise, Kwan had begun undulating his tail, unrepentantly knocking down several flag posts in the process.

To be fair, I felt a little less like an impulsive idiot.

Oba Kei softly cleared his throat, although it appeared to be an attempt at finding his voice rather than a desire to draw further attention to himself. “Esteemed Monarch, might this humble one ask which Transcription Techniques have been employed to gain knowledge of the Technique?...” He asked timidly, almost on the verge of outright cowering.

“I haven’t employed any Techniques, just intuition,” I replied, settling on a half-truth. My authority gave me insights about certain things, but I would prefer that knowledge not become widespread. “I have successfully progressed to the first rank of the Technique without difficulties. I just wanted to know if there are more efficient means available.”

Oba Kei gulped dryly and nearly tugged at his beard by mistake. “Esteemed Monarch, to have progressed at all without instruction is...well...” He blinked hard and quickly began waving his hands defensively. “It is to be expected! Of course! I didn't mean to suggest-”

“No offence taken,” I insisted and motioned for calm. “Tell me more about these Transcription Techniques.”

Visibly glad for the change in subject, the elderly man dabbed at his brow with the hem of his long sleeve. “Transcription Techniques are rare, most often employed to forcibly take the knowledge of a Technique from a restrained enemy. However, there are less invasive Techniques that are employed by Beast Tamers to learn and share the Techniques of their Bonded Beast Familiars.” For a moment, there was a distant look in Oba Kei’s eyes. “Before our fall...our clan raised all manner of Beasts...”

“Why not tame new Beasts?” I had a fairly good feeling as to why but wanted to know for certain.

“Many of our most talented Cultivators have suffered damage to our foundation because of the backlash suffered from losing our Familiars...” Oba kei replied quietly. “The clan leader’s son barely survived... Others were not so fortunate...”

Backlash. That was another subject I was unfamiliar with. However, just from the context, I could assume it was caused by the Bond being broken in some way.

“Those who are strong enough and have an intact foundation are too few in number and too low in Cultivation to hunt for new Familiars, and there is no market to purchase eggs...” Oba Kei gave a helpless shrug. “In time and with your goodwill, our clan will recover. However, I doubt I will live long enough to witness such a day...”

“What would it take to repair someone's damaged foundation?” I asked, both to satisfy my curiosity as well as to safeguard against potential dangers in the future.

Shoji Kei was silent for several long moments, taking his time to seriously consider the question. “Minor damage heals with time and regular meditation. Recovery can be accelerated with generic Elixirs, so long as they are taken in moderation. Profound damage, from sources such as a backlash, requires Soul Balm. An Elixir made from rare ingredients that would bankrupt most minor sects...The greater the damage, the more Soul Balm that is required...” He was silent for a few moments before coming back to himself again. “While not the same, the foundation can be overdrawn and generate strain. If left untreated, it may cause damage. However, in most instances, rest is sufficient. Elixirs will abate the symptoms, but will not accelerate recovery. In extreme instances, the strain can be alleviated through the exchange of internal energy...”

Recognising what my children had done on my behalf, I nearly felt enough pride to outweigh the shame of my reckless actions.

“Can this strain be fatal?” I had to fight hard not to cringe over my past stupidity.

“It can be...” Shoji Kei answered sombrely.

“This Soul Balm Elixir, do you know how it is made?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

“Unfortunately, no, esteemed Monarch...” Oba Kei Apologised. “Our clan has not produced an Alchemist in several generations...And the guilds would never divulge their secrets willingly...”

“Is it a common recipe?” I pushed. “Something that is relatively well known amongst Alchemists?”

Oba Kei gave me a strange look and then seriously considered the question. “I believe it would be. Damage to the foundation is quite common amongst the impulsive youths of the clans, sects and great houses...The expense means little when compared against an uncertain future.”

Now aware that my stupidity was not as uncommon as I would have hoped, I made a mental note to begin recruiting Alchemists.

“What does it take to form a Bond with a wild Beast?” I asked, curious to see where I had done things differently.

“Strictly speaking, a willingness to accept the Bond from both parties is all that is required.” Oba kei gave a small shrug and smiled faintly. “However, it is common for wild Beasts to reject a Bond with those they deem inferior. Requiring a demonstration of strength to convince them otherwise.”

“So it wouldn’t matter if there is a significant difference in their levels of Cultivation, just so long as both parties are willing?” I pressed, wanting confirmation before taking things any further.

Oba Kei nodded, his eerily vibrant eyes narrowing slightly as if having guessed at my motives.

“This should come as little surprise, given my position as Monarch. I have recently begun expanding my realm and taking in new subjects. Subjects who have not yet been given cause to show respect that is due.” I was somewhat surprised by Oba Kei’s solemn expression and passive acceptance of what I was saying. Which made it difficult to maintain the proper tone and impart the gravitas I was aiming for. “My intention is for the Oba clan and the Farmer’s Union to take on a leadership role and guide the newcomers through their transition.”

Oba Kei’s eyes widened in surprise and he barely caught himself in time to avoid falling to his knees. Instead, he bowed low at the waist, releasing a host of arthritic crackling sounds as his spine bent further than it probably had in years, perhaps even decades. “The esteemed Monarch is too generous!” He cried emphatically.

After discussing the details further, Oba Kei provided me with a manual detailing a simple Transcription Technique and we took the opportunity to discuss the Iron Titan in more detail. Specifically, what I had managed to figure out on my own already and the common ground it shared with similar Techniques.

Using the Technique on Kwan proved disappointing, generating three words as the sum total of its instructions.

Fight. Feed. Dominate.

On a similarly disappointing note, Oba Kei was unable to suggest a more efficient or effective form of training to progress the Iron Titan Technique. However, after I explained how my Racial Ability would accelerate the healing of physical injuries of all subjects within my realm, without revealing its source, Oba Kei suggested training against the warriors of the clan.

The training would provide several noteworthy benefits. Foremost, providing the conflict the Iron Titan Technique required. I would also have the opportunity to establish myself as a genuinely powerful figure before the clan and could take the opportunity to learn a combat Technique without the expectation of already mastering the Technique. As a side benefit, the clan would have the opportunity to train their remaining warriors, most of whom were relatively inexperienced, against a powerful opponent.

Reminded that I still hadn’t committed to learning a Technique that could weaponise my Chi, I was inclined to agree. Furthermore, I was going to take things a step further.

Choosing a combat Technique was easier than I had expected it to be. After revealing my true form and confirming my Affinities, Oba Kei recommended a deceptively simple Technique named the Elemental Fist. Contrary to the name, the diagrams within the manual depicted a fighting style that included a variety of kicks and the use of straight swords and other weapons.

The Elemental Fist was an almost universal Technique designed to take advantage of available Affinities and weaponise them for offensive advantages in combat. It had derivatives specifically tailored to mimic or enhance specific elemental Affinities. However, I had so many Affinities that locking myself down with a specific Element would be an objectively stupid idea and a waste of my potential.

Especially considering I was capable of gaining further Affinities by learning new Spells.

Oba Kei had initially recommended learning a Movement Technique as well. However, he changed his mind after learning of my Spatial Affinity. Reasoning that I would be better off going without until I could secure a Movement Technique to take advantage of the Affinity.

While Oba Kei made the necessary preparations, I made contact with my ally Yi Gim.

Conjuring the token from where I had left it, I injected a small amount of Chi and waited.

Several minutes passed and I was beginning to think I had chosen a poor time to make the call when the connection abruptly established itself.

I felt a profound sense of weariness pass through the connection. <Heavens shine upon me!-> I felt Yi Gim’s concentration slip for a moment, followed by a flicker of pain. <My honoured ally, I require your aid!> The connection dropped for several seconds before establishing itself again. <-assassins and saboteurs! Hidden amongst the populace-> Another flash of pain. <-fight at full strength while protecting them. I beg, extend sanctuary to my family and you may name your pr-> The connection was severed.

Assassins and saboteurs.

Presented with the possibility of losing my only Monarch ally and means of circumventing mandatory Supremacy Challenges from the top rankers, I began to act before I was consciously aware of what I was doing.

Armour contained within my Storage Ring materialised on my body and a thick stone club appeared in my right hand.

The memory of a bedroom appeared in my mind and the space before me was torn asunder, replaced by an inky black void.

Stepping into the void, I was only vaguely aware of Kwan moving at my back.

As the void bled away, the image of the opulently furnished bedroom from my mind was replaced by splintered ruins, smoke and flames.

Pushing through the wreckage, I found myself standing on an open road riddled with the bodies of what appeared to be my ally’s servants. Many bore expressions of surprise, seemingly caught unawares by whoever had slain them.

Buildings up and down the road were burning, casting smoke, cinders and ashes into the wind, making it difficult to see more than a dozen feet in most directions.

Drawn to the sounds of battle, I looked toward the sky and amidst the smoke found Yi Gim desperately fighting for his life against a trio of dark-robed and hooded figures.

Forming a javelin from the broken masonry, I took aim, impregnated the newly formed projectile with MP and cast it at the enemy.

Despite the element of surprise, the enemy must have sensed the MP within the javelin, because one of their number broke away and attempted to intercept it with a small bronze shield.

A shimmering barrier of pale golden energy radiated outward from the shield, increasing its surface several times over in less than a fraction of a second. However, as the javelin struck the shield, both the shield and its magical barrier shattered. Torn apart by a deafening roar of thunder.

Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, the former owner of the shield fell. Tumbling end over end before crashing face first into the paced street below.

Kwan shrieked in warning, lashing out with his tail and demolishing a crumbling wall. Catching the dark-masked man behind it by surprise. Before the man could react, Kwan punched and caught him in his jaws.

With a wet crunch, Kwan bit down hard and tore the man’s body in half, spilling entrails across the ground.

Following Kwan’s actions I was nearly caught off guard as another dark-robed figure leapt over the opposite wall and launched himself at my back.

Alerted by the loose stones moving underfoot, I swung my club hard in a simple arc intended to drive the enemy back and buy me time to think.

My club connected with the curved blade of a sword and the enemy was thrown backward into the wall with an unsettling crunch.

Gasping for breath and trying to rise to his feet, the enemy raised his sword and pointed its tip in my direction. No doubt intended as a threat, the danger was undercut by how badly his arm was shaking.

Advancing, I ignored his sword, allowing it to scrape harmlessly over my armour. Swinging my club with a vicious backhanded blow, I tore the man’s head free from his shoulders.

Two more dark-robed combatants leapt over the wall. The first was split in two mid-flight, ripped apart as Kwan’s tail whipped through his midsection. The second managed to adjust his trajectory in time to tumble over Kwan’s tail. However, before he could move to safety, a spear of water condensed from the air and drove through his chest, killing him instantly.

Kwan howled in triumph, crushing the man’s body beneath his claws.

Extending my senses to search for more hidden threats in our vicinity, my attention was immediately drawn toward a powerful and complex source of Chi out in the smoke. Recognising the source of Chi as a gathering of Arrays or Formations, I spared a glance toward Yi Gim and his ongoing battle in the sky.

Now only outnumbered two to one, he appeared to be holding his own. Both enemies appeared to be directing as much of their attention toward me as they were toward him. Making them more cautious than they had been previously, preventing me from ambushing them again. However, it came at the expense of allowing Yi Gim breathing room he wouldn’t have had otherwise.

Deciding to trust that Yi Gim would be able to hold at least a little while longer, I began moving toward the active Arrays.

Bright flashes of light up ahead were accompanied by surges of Chi from the Arrays. The closer we came, the more aware I became of harsh voices cursing and shouting in a language I didn’t understand but recognised as being vaguely familiar.

Stepping out of the smoke, I found several dozen more of the dark-cloaked figures. Half their number were kneeling at fixed intervals around a multi-story pagoda, exuding a dark crimson Chi forming a living offensive Formation. The other half were hurling what looked like jars of burning oil against a pale silver barrier surrounding the pagoda.

Second, by second, the barrier protecting the pagoda was being drained of its strength, and each impact from the jars of burning oil accelerated the deterioration.

Gathering ym MP and Chi in equal measure, I raised five massive pillars from the earth and activated a Formation of my own.

Like the changing of the tide, the Chi powering the offensive Formation began flooding away from the barrier and toward my pillars.

Several of the dark-robed figures engaged in the living Formation let out cries of alarm while the majority of their number collapsed outright. Their bodies forcibly drained for all they were worth and unable to halt what they had begun.

The call to battle caught in their throats as Kwan barrelled out of the smoke and began loping towards them, jaws wide and bloody maw yawning wide in anticipation for the kill.

Several figures attempted to flee, scattering in all directions. Only to find that they were now contained within a second barrier.

The smart move would have been to stand back and wait them out. Starve them of Chi and move in only once they were well and truly incapable of defending themselves.

However, I had come to accept that I was not as smart as I had once thought I was.

Stepping over the threshold, my attention gravitated toward one man in particular.

Carrying two long curved swords, the man was tall, heavily built and incredibly broad in the shoulders. Making a show of waving his subordinate back, he pulled back the veil of his hood, revealing a dark tanned face and a large dark moustache. Far from upset, he wore a savage grin and appeared to be glad for the interruption. He said something and opened his arms expansively, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.

Ignoring Kwan, who had closed the distance between us and was now hunting down his men, the man gave me a strange look and then exaggeratedly made a show of clearing his throat. “Many greetings to you, stranger. I am Aydin, an assassin of the Twelve Stars Order. May I ask your name and to which mercenary band you belong? We may be able to settle our misunderstanding without further bloodshed.” The last was almost lost as Kwan tore off a man’s arm, generating a gut-wrenching scream of pain and terror.

There was an opportunity to learn something here and dragging things out would only play to my advantage if we came to blows. However, there was a real possibility that the enemy was just trying to buy time so his companions outside of the barrier could kill Yi Gim without my interference.

“No,” I replied flatly and adjusted my grip on my club.

“No?” Adjin asked, his wide face thick with confusion.

“No,” I repeated and began closing the distance between us.

Adjin’s expression hardened and he nodded in understanding. “So it shall be.” He drew his veil back into place and charged. Wearing no armour, Adjin moved much faster than the other Cultivators I had fought in the past, closing the gap in less than a second.

Metallic shrieks pierced the air as his curved blades scraped along my right side.

Before I could react, several blows rained down on my back.

Staggering slightly as I was thrown off balance, the hits kept coming. However, my armour held, repelling strike after strike with ease.

Sensing Adjin’s mounting frustration, I bought myself some space by turning the surrounding ground into spiked stone caltrops.

Leaping clear before his sandalled feet could be impaled, Adjin was visibly trembling with rage. Both of his swords were emitting a baleful black aura that felt oddly familiar.

Recognising the energy for what it was, I smoothed out the ground and made a show of cockily waving him forward.

Adjin’s Chi flared and he raced forward with impossible speed, swords held back over each shoulder in preparation to scissor through my neck and separate my head from my shoulders.

I didn’t give him the chance.

Before he could realise what was happening, I directed the dark energy gathered in his swords down each hilt and into his hands.

Yelping in pain, Adjin’s charge went wide and he barely managed to keep his footing. Dropping his swords, Adjin howled in pain and fear as his hands withered into gnarled husks before his eyes. The baleful energy continued up his arms, stripping their vitality and leaving nothing but grey flesh and protruding bones in its wake. Aven after it stole his voice, Adjin continued his screams in silence.

Standing over the man who had thought himself my equal, I felt nothing but contempt and disgust. “Death is not yours to command...” I stated coldly and gathered the ambient Death Chi toward myself. “IT IS MINE!” With one push, I took what little of his life remained.

Confident that Kwan had things well in hand, I impregnated my armour with Earth Affinity aligned Chi and slowly willed myself into the sky.

Utterly inexperienced with flying, I barely managed a relative speed comparable to a brisk walk. However, as I came drifting through the smoke, one of the two remaining enemy figures locked in battle against Yi Gim abruptly disengaged and disappeared into a cloud of acrid green smoke.

The second figure made to do the same but was cut short as Yi Gim’s sword impaled the man’s chest.

Releasing his sword, Yi Gim cradled his abdomen with his right arm as his left hung limply at his side.

“You...You serve the Tyrant?” Yi Gim gasped, his lips and beard stained with blood, his skin pale and peaked.

Extending my senses, I found traces of Death Chi circulating dangerously through his body. Exerting my will, I overcame Yi Gim’s flagging defences and drew the contaminated Chi out of his body.

Yi Gim hissed in pain, reflexively reaching for the empty scabbard at his hip.

“That was Death Chi,” I explained tersely. “It would have rotted you from the inside out if I had let it be.”

Relief flashed across Yi Gim’s face, no doubt having recognised my voice. “I didn’t...Nnng!...Didn’t know if anyone was coming...” He panted, drawing a small brown pellet from his Storage ring with visible effort. “They have my...My family shrine besieged...” Yi Gim pleaded. “Please! I beg you! Lend me your strength to break the siege!” He gulped down the pellet and grimaced with pain, very nearly falling from the sky.

Catching Yi Gim by his good arm I wrapped it behind my neck and supported his side with my other hand. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” I commented wryly as we drifted through the smoke and in the general direction of the pagoda.

Despite the pain it must have caused him, Yi Gim turned his head to look at me. Not that it would have done much good with my helmet and visor concealing my face.

I could see the fear in his eyes. Fear of dying. Fear for the uncertain fate of his family. Fear that I would turn on him...

However, as we passed out of the smoke, I could tell that at least one of his fears was at least briefly alleviated by the sight that awaited us. However, it was worth noting that the others had probably grown considerably worse.

Watching Kwan manoeuvre a fallen assassin into his gullet and swallow him whole, I couldn’t blame him.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 79 - Death and dominance - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 79 - Death and dominance - Part One

Gathering my MP, I decided to err on the side of caution and provide Orphiel with the means to make a show of things if necessary. I was already going out on a limb assuming the enemy Monarch was a Christian. What complicated matters was my lack of certainty regarding what he expected an angel to look like.

If my assumptions were wrong, I wouldn't get a second chance.

Hardening my heart to the potential execution that would follow, I invested most of my MP and Summoned Orphie, hoping for the best.

“CEASE THIS FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE.” Orphiel’s voice reverberated with an unearthly echo that preceded and followed his every word. He was using a suppression Ability from his Class but as his Summoner, I was immune to its effects.

Understandably caught off guard, Heaven’s Fury momentarily stopped circulating his energy.

Having cast aside his usual carefree attitude, Orphiel looked down on us both with stern condescending disapproval.

Heaven’s Fury’s eyes hungrily drank in the sight of Orphiel’s wings and halo. All the while, traces of his energy appeared to be probing Orphiel for potential weaknesses, or perhaps attempting to verify his authenticity. If that was the case, I just had to hope that the sheer volume I had dedicated to Orphiel’s Summoning would meet with Heaven’s Fury’s expectations. “I...I am not worthy...” Seemingly ashamed of his actions, he firmly closed his eyes and did his best to turn his head downward and away from Orphiel.

“YOU ARE NOT.” Orphiel agreed. “TO WASTE STRENGTH IN SUCH PETTY SQUABBLES IS BEYOND DISAPPOINTING.” He softened his tone slightly and opened his arms wide. “YET, FORGIVENESS LIES WITHIN YOUR REACH.”

I backed away several steps and slowly began exhuming Heaven’s Fury as a sign of good faith. With so little distance between us, it was difficult not to notice the simplistic religious iconography worked into his equipment. Although that on its own wouldn’t have told me much about Heaven’s Fury and told me nothing that his fanaticism hadn’t made obvious already.

What was of more interest was the relatively low level of protective technology. The other Cultivators had all possessed brigandine or a combination of brigandine and other armour. So it was strange that both European Cultivators had chosen to wear mail hauberks over padded cloth gambesons.

While there was an argument to be made for the manoeuvrability of lighter armour, Cultivators had enough strength to spare that they could brute force through such limitations.

It was a strange train of thought to consider when magic presented such obvious advantages. However, I was beginning to suspect that part of the reason for their low ranking was related to their technological development.

“Forgiveness, holy messenger,” Heaven’s Fury knelt on bended knee and bowed his head with his hands clasped high in supplication. “What is Heavenly Father’s will?”

“TO FACILITATE THE RETURN OF THE FAITHFUL, YOU WILL HUMBLE YOURSELF BEFORE YOUR RIVAL,” Orphiel commanded, working off of the limited exposition I could provide as motivation during his Summoning. “AFTER PROVING YOUR FAITH, THE FAITHFUL WILL BE MADE WHOLE THROUGH GOD’S INFINITE GRACE!”

I wasn’t raised in a religious household, so I had little knowledge of Christian doctrine beyond the superficial and surface-level things commonly raised in the media while on Earth. However, just by judging the other Monarch’s reactions, Orphiel appeared to be doing a convincing job. Although there was a definite possibility that zealotry and earnest piety were doing the heavy lifting.

Heaven’s Fury remained silent for the better part of a minute. No doubt frantically arguing with himself to determine what he should do.

“I...” Heaven’s Fury’s shoulders slumped briefly. He took a deep breath to steady himself and squared his shoulders anew. “I humbly submit to Heavenly Father’s will...”

Orphiel’s stern expression softened and he nodded approvingly.

Heaven’s Fury opened his eyes and appeared taken aback by Orphiel’s sudden demonstration of approval. Blinking back tears, his eyes narrowed distrustfully as he turned his gaze toward me. However, despite his obvious distrust, he appeared resolved to keep his word. “Under the eyes of heaven, I submit myself to your mercy...”

Without warning, Orphiel’s projection was impaled by a spear of golden light and exploded.

A half second later, Heaven’s Fury was impaled in kind, his face locked in an expression caught between elation, rage, and confusion.

I had expected to fail and had taken the appropriate precautions. Surrounding Heaven’s Fury with stone spears embedded in the earth. When he played his hand, I played mine.

Despite his grievous wounds, Heaven’s Fury took a little over a minute to die.

With his death, I was returned to the stone meeting room.

Alone with my thoughts, I was surprised I felt nothing beyond a vague sense of disappointment. “I tried...” I said aloud, giving voice to my thoughts to try and gain a greater measure of my mental and emotional state. Probing for a hidden weakness or invasive psychosis. “I tried...” I repeated, accepting that I felt no guilt whatsoever.

Leaving the hall behind, I relocated myself to Lurr’s peak.

Distracted by the massive peach tree that had grown in my absence, it took me several moments to realise that I was standing in the centre of a lightning storm.

The cool rain felt good against my skin, countering the uncomfortable warmth radiating from my bones and permeating my muscles. Each breath, pushing back the migraine to the periphery, leaching away the pain.

Without making a conscious decision to act, I removed my armour, returned to my true form and fell into the familiar rhythm of my breathing Technique.

Seconds passed into minutes and minutes into hours.

When I opened my eyes again, I found Kwan encircled around my right arm, his head resting on my hand.

Deep in my meditative state, I could sense a large portion of the raw energy around us was being diverted toward Kwan. Which had two immediately observable effects.

First, there was little energy left over for me to breathe in and absorb into my established foundation of internal energy. Second, what remained was incredibly concentrated and was aligned nearly exclusively with the Thunder Affinity, and to a lesser extent, the Wood Affinity.

Taking deeper breaths only prompted Kwan to do the same. Dismissing the urge to lash out in irritation, I observed Kwan more closely and determined that he didn’t appear to be acting out of malice.

Exercising patience, I continued to observe and discovered something new.

Kwan wasn’t just drawing in the ambient energy around us, he was also drawing on my excess Chi. Greedily absorbing the trace amounts that would have otherwise been caught by the Arrays before breaking down into ambient energy that carried my Affinities.

Instead of internalising my Chi, Kwan was gathering and circulating it just beneath his skin, causing his scales to shimmer and pulse with power.

Curious, I attempted to perform the same feat with my own Chi.

Kwan shifted his grip on my arm and stared up at me with open curiosity. <Training?> He slowed his circulation and began tentatively loosening his grip on my arm.

“No, I was just trying to figure out what you were doing,” I replied with an exaggerated shrug, unsure of how well Kwan could interpret body language.

Kwan tilted his head slightly to one side and appeared confused. <Tim. Imitate/Follow. Kwan?>

“Yes,” I nodded and tried not to smile as Kwan’s snout bobbed up and down trying to follow my movements.

<Confused. Kwan. Training.> Kwan renewed circulating his borrowed Chi in earnest and then slowed again.

Reviewing Kwan’s status information, I discovered that he had gained a Technique. The Iron Titan Body Reinforcement Technique. The listed progress hadn’t reached a single percentile but it was an impressive feat regardless.

“How did you learn this Technique?” I asked, trying to make sense of what was happening.

<Instincts/Knowing.> Kwan’s answer, made through impressions, was difficult to accept at face value. <Food? Hungry. Hunt. Feed.> He waved his tail with anticipation and tasted the air with his tongue.

“You want to hunt?” It was the first time Kwan had broached the subject and it caught me off guard. Until this moment, he had been perfectly content with gorging himself on precooked food, so it was a strange request.

<Need, Hunt. Feed. Training!> Kwan’s reply was confusing but insistent. <Feed! Training!> He repeated insistently, pushing impressions of feasting on internal organs accompanied by a near-overwhelming taste of blood.

Something clicked in the periphery of my mind, piecing together Kwan’s needs and intentions ahead of my conscious thoughts. “Iron? Iron Titan Body Reinforcement Technique...” Understanding flooded into the forefront of my mind. “You need iron for the Body Refining Technique!”

Kwan looked back at me uncertainly. <Feed? Blood?>

Using my authority, I teleported one of the horned rabbits into my left hand and out of ingrained reflex, pinched off its neck with my thumb. Killing it instantly.

Kwan’s snout twitched and his tongue darted hungrily in the air. <Feed!> He demanded, gnashing his teeth and undulating his tail excitedly.

I dropped the rabbit into Kwan’s jaws and waited.

Greedy and impatient, Kwan swallowed the rabbit whole and immediately began circulating the borrowed Chi again. After ten minutes, Kwan’s efforts were rewarded by gaining his first percentile of progress in the Body Refining Technique. A fact that he appeared incredibly pleased about. <Training! Success!> Kwan shrieked and hissed with excitement, twisting to and fro to inspect his scales.

Despite his complete lack of concentration, Kwan was still circulating a smaller portion of Chi beneath his scales. Which made me wonder if it was a property all Body Refining Techniques shared.

The manuals I had read on the subject did not deal with concrete details and required an inordinate amount of personal interpretation. However, I didn’t recall any of the Body Refining Techniques mentioning reserving a portion of the practitioner’s Chi. It was the Body Enhancement Techniques, which provided short bursts of physical enhancement, that required a continuous supply of Chi to function.

So I was unsure what to make of this particular development.

<Hunt! Fight!> Kwan bared his teeth and flexed his claws aggressively.

The demand was not altogether unexpected. Another common feature of Body Refining Techniques, especially those oriented toward defence, was something referred to as tempering. Which was just a roundabout way of saying the Cultivator needed to be the recipient of physical violence to advance the Technique to the next stage.

Technically, I could probably just throttle Kwan to achieve the required result. But I doubted he would appreciate it.

“Alright,” I agreed, curious to see how Kwan would fare in an actual fight.

Just as Kwan began bounding and slithering down the mountainside, I used my authority to draw him back, catching him about the neck to prevent him from leaving on his own.

<Fight?> Kwan didn’t test my grip but angled his head to look up at me. No doubt confused by what was happening.

I nodded and slowly began descending the mountain. “Going alone would be incredibly foolish,” I commented disapprovingly. “There are thousands of beasts below the mountain. Even if you are stronger than most of them, which I doubt, their sheer numbers would overwhelm you.”

Kwan lowered his head and his dorsal crest flattened against his neck and back. <Forgive?>

“Just remember to think first next time,” I insisted. If Kwan was to serve as the gate guardian of the realm, he needed to be more than just a bloodthirsty beast.

As if to prove my point, a riot of bestial cries rose from the forest at the foot of the mountain.

The gathered beasts were competing for access to the mountain, attacking and killing one another. All so they could control a territory closer to the mountain and the dense ambient energies drawn there by the Arrays.

From my vantage point, I observed that most Species seemed to hold a loose alliance amongst their own kind. Although the strategy varied wildly with some choosing to simply ignore one another while others actively worked together, bringing down their rival through the weight of numbers where necessary.

Amidst the carnage, a beast resembling a lion the size of an elephant with dark jade-green-coloured scales and a pale white mane watched my descent with avid interest from atop a large pile of bones.

Untouched by the fighting, the scaly lion was given a wide berth by the smaller beasts and appeared to pay them no mind whatsoever. Making it clear that there was almost certainly an insurmountable difference in their strength.

Kwan had noticed the strange lion as well and was becoming increasingly agitated as we drew closer to the foot of the mountain.

Stopping a short distance from the invisible barrier, I lowered Kwan into the river that encircled this side of the mountain. The old banks of the river were flooded with the runoff generated by the unending storm higher up the mountain, drowning small bushes and reeds that hadn’t been given enough time to adapt.

Anchoring himself to the riverbed with his claws, Kwan effortlessly resisted the pull of the river’s current and made his way to the middle of the river where it was deepest.

Striding through the river, I took up a position a short distance from the bank opposite the barrier and began searching for a suitable opponent.

All the while, the scaly lion continued watching us, muscles tense and ready to pounce despite the considerable distance between us and the invisible barrier that would deny its trespass.

Singling out a large hairy ape amidst the ongoing battle, I used my authority to teleport the ape onto the opposite shore of the river.

Understandably confused, the ape took a few moments to realise that it had somehow passed through the barrier and could make a play for the peak of the mountain.

All it had to do was cross the river.

Eyeing me suspiciously, the ape bared its teeth in an overt sign of aggression. Picking up a stone, the ape hurled it at my head.

Before the stone could connect, I seized control of it with my Chi and made a show of orbiting the stone around my body. Making it obvious that such an attack wouldn’t work against me.

Frustrated, the ape tore off a branch and threw it with even greater force.

Catching the branch with as little effort as the stone, I sat myself down on a nearby boulder and waited.

The ape threw several more improvised projectiles before losing its patience. Huffing in a rage, the ape backed away from the river and then broke into a loping run, propelling itself forward with large powerful forearms. Coming up just a few feet short of the river’s edge, the ape suddenly slammed both its fists against the ground and launched itself up into the air.

Unfortunately, the ape’s flight was abruptly arrested as Kwan shot out of the water and sunk his teeth into the ape’s right leg. The ape barely had time to shriek in surprise as its momentum was arrested, causing Kwan’s teeth to shred its calf and shin muscles to bloody ribbons.

Flailing wildly in a panic, the ape fell into the river.

Blooms of crimson stained the river's current as Kwan moved in for the kill, striking and dragging the ape deeper into the river, denying it access to the surface and any hope of escape.

Less than a minute later, Kwan dragged the Ape’s corpse onto the bank and made a show of pressing its head into the mud with his claw. Expressing dominance and marking his territory.

Amused by Kwan’s demonstration, and the pride that motivated it, I began reshaping the river. The whole point of this exercise was for Kwan to exchange blows to progress his Technique. Not to facilitate a one-sided succession of ambushes.

With that in mind. I created a broken causeway that would allow passage across the river and force Kwan into shallower water. Of course, Kwan would still possess several undeniable advantages, but it was far less one-sided than it had been before.

Experimentally traversing the causeway, Kwan stared at me with what I could only assume was an expression of distinct displeasure and confusion.

“This was meant to be training, remember?” I scolded the indolent serpent.

Kwan flinched and bobbed his head in a demonstration of submission. <Training.> He agreed submissively.

Nodding in approval, I began searching for his next opponent.

Settling on a boar the size of a small car, I teleported the beast inside of the barrier and positioned it on the opposite side of the causeway.

Visibly agitated, the boar sniffed and huffed at the air with its snout and waved its six deadly tusks to and fro as it investigated the surrounding bushes.

Kwan clawed his way out of the depths of the river and onto the causeway, releasing a loud sharp hiss in a challenge.

Squealing and grunting in anger, the boar tore its way through the underbrush and onto the causeway. To my surprise, its hooves didn’t slip or skid on the wet stones, allowing it to gather more momentum as it barreled headlong toward Kwan.

Hunkering down, Kwan watched the approach of his enemy with nervous excitement, undulating and flicking his tail with sufficient force to generate a loud snapping sound reminiscent of a whip.

The boar’s spear-like tusks drove toward Kwan’s head with intense speed and ferocity, glinting dangerously in the midday sun and radiating Chi.

Imitating the ape, Kwan abruptly launched himself into the air, narrowly dodging the boar’s tusks and slapping it in the face with his tail. Possessing far greater reach than the ape, Kwan immediately arrested his movement by striking down at the boar with his fangs and biting down hard into its bony hunched neck.

Unfortunately, the boar’s densely packed mane of thick bristly hair and its large vertebrae prevented Kwan from dealing a fatal blow. Making matters worse, his claws appeared unable to pierce the boar's hide, slapping ineffectually at the boar’s sides.

The boar began bucking and shaking, trying to dislodge Kwan. While unsuccessful in throwing Kwan off its back, the boar managed to deliver several glancing blows against Kwan’s lower body and tail as it indirectly trampled Kwan with its sharp hooves.

Refusing to let the boar go, Kwan maintained his grip and continued slashing at the boar’s sides with his claws.

As the minutes dragged on and both combatants began to tire, the boar abruptly lost its footing and tumbled off the causeway.

Despite his fatigue, Kwan entangled the boar’s legs with his tail and they both sank to the bottom of the river.

Even with the outcome now all but decided, I was impressed that Kwan continued fighting to constrict and drown the boar through mundane means. Especially since drowning the boar through manipulating the Water Affinity would be faster and infinitely less tiring.

After five more minutes of desperately struggling against the inevitable, the boar finally succumbed to oxygen deprivation and died.

Sensing Kwan’s extreme fatigue, I used my Chi to draw both him and his prize out of the river and onto the shore.

<Gratitude...> Kwan, lying splayed out on the ground, huffed tiredly and critically regarded the boar’s carcass.  In addition to his exhaustion, Kwan was bleeding from several small cuts and a handful of light punctures caused by the boar’s hooves and tusks. <Tim. Help. Feed?> The Abyssal Serpent mewled pitiably.

“Why not eat the other one first?” I suggested, nodding toward the ape’s carcass a short distance away.

Kwan panned his head toward the ape and hissed with excitement. <Feed!> Dragging himself across the mud with his claws, Kwan pounced on the corpse and began ripping his way into its abdominal cavity, prioritising the ape’s most nutrient-rich organs.

Keeping myself otherwise occupied while Kwan engaged in a savage feeding frenzy, I confirmed that he had progressed his Body Reinforcement Technique by another percentile.

“Pathetic,” a low rumbling voice announced disdainfully from the opposite side of the river.

Looking for the source of the voice, I was only slightly surprised to find the scaly lion had abandoned its hill of bones and was now standing a short distance away.

Sweeping my senses over the lion, I was surprised to find that it possessed more internal energy and Chi than the Monarchs I had fought thus far. Reminding me of Yi Gim’s concerns in facing a calamity he had called a beast tide. An event where wild beasts would storm Cultivator cities and massacre the populations in an unrelenting wave of savagery and death.

No doubt aware of my appraisal, the lion stared back at me with unconcealed disdain. “Your predecessor had more respect!” The scaly feline growled arrogantly. “He would never have dared erect a barrier and cast this majesty from his throne!”

“You consider yourself a king?” I demanded flatly, unimpressed by the beast’s lack of respect and undeserved confidence.

“This one IS A KING!” The lion roared, gnashing its teeth with barely concealed rage.

The sounds of fighting throughout the forest died out immediately, and I could feel tens or even hundreds of thousands of eyes and ears turned in our direction.

“This one speaks, and the weak obey!” The lion continued, lifting a stone in its right paw and crushing it to gravel without visible effort. “This is the rule of this world! This is the rule of the strong!”

“The weak are meat, and the strong do eat?” I commented glibly, quoting a line from an otherwise thought-provoking movie I had watched during my time on Earth. “You would freely admit with your own voice that you should be considered nothing more than food in my eyes?” I warned darkly.

The lion curled its leathery lips in disdain and anger. “You present no threat to this one’s life-” Its words halted abruptly as I exercised my authority and drove its body into the ground and pinned its limbs in place with barbed stone spears.

“This is MY WORLD,” I proclaimed coldly, “Your continued existence is allowed through MY GRACE!”

The lion roared in pain and fury. “YOU WOULD DARE?!” It tore itself free, snapping the stone spears and then slamming its body against the barrier.

I removed a skyscraper-sized chunk of stone from deep beneath the ground and dropped it.

Confused, the lion looked to the sky. Eyes wide with surprise, it tried to run.

I teleported the lion back to its position by the barrier.

Scrambling in a panic, the lion tried to flee five more times and was returned to the exact same position in a handful of heartbeats after each attempt. “CEASE THIS NONSENSE! RELEASE THIS ONE IMMEDIATELY OR FACE THIS ONE’S WRATH!!!” The lion demanded, its obvious fear undercutting its attempt at intimidation.

“No,” I replied flatly. “Swear fealty to me or die,” I countered. “Swear upon your soul to serve my family and obey my laws, and I will allow you to live.” I surrounded the lion with a private barrier that forbade more than five feet of movement in each direction.

Despite being initially intimidated, Kwan had regained his courage and bared his teeth at the tiger in open provocation. <Dominance!>

The lion desperately unleashed a torrent of emerald flames against the barrier but met with no success. Panicking after the failure of its Technique, the lion furiously slashed at the barrier with its claws, sending scything lights from its claws to crash against the barrier. However, the latest barrage of attacks met with no more success than the flames that had preceded them, causing the lion’s panic to increase tenfold.

With only a handful of seconds left before the artificial meteorite would strike its target, I was beginning to worry that I had overextended myself. If I allowed the meteor to strike, the damage wouldn’t be limited to the scaly lion. A fact that I had not given proper consideration when initiating my aggressive negotiations and would only serve to undermine my credibility if the lion failed to yield.

“WAIT!!!” The lion howled in terror and backed as far against the edge of the barrier as it could manage.

More than happy to temporarily banish the projectile, I still made a point of maintaining my cold expression of indifference toward the lion. So far as he was to know, it was only a temporary reprieve.

Chest heaving and limbs trembling, the lion pressed its head to the ground. “This one submits to the Majesty’s will...” It croaked. “This one swears to serve his Majesty and his bloodline and obey Majesty’s laws...This one swears it upon the heavens and the immortal Tao...Grk!...”

A small string of notifications appeared confirming the lion’s fealty as well as registering a new Species to my first system.

With the lion’s capitulation, I dismissed the newly erected barrier.

While looking to the lion for a name, I was somewhat surprised when the automated query failed to provide an answer. It wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened, but it was still rare enough that it took me a couple of moments to identify the cause.

The lion didn’t have a name. So, naturally, the registry couldn’t provide the information I had asked for.

Crooking my finger, I motioned for the lion to approach.

Limping from the wounds I had inflicted on its limbs, the lion obediently passed through the barrier and crossed the causeway before prostrating itself at my feet.

Looking at the beast I had been calling a lion up close, I realised that my initial assessment was not particularly accurate. Only bearing a passing resemblance to a lion, the beast had a short almost pug-like snout, a heavy wide brow, and a disturbingly large lower jaw. The proportions of its limbs weren’t right either, with the forelimbs bearing what looked like twice as much muscle and bone as they otherwise should.

As strange as it seemed, the beast bore a striking resemblance to the stone statues of lions one of my former neighbours had prominently displayed in their yard. I had never asked where they had immigrated from, but I was reasonably confident that they were Chinese.

“You need a name,” I decided, curious to put a name to the beast’s origins and look at its status.

“This one would gladly accept any title bestowed by the Majesty...” The beast replied with fearful humility.

I hesitated.

Naming people was not something I would consider one of my strengths.

After considering the options for several minutes, I decided to use the recent memory of my neighbours as inspiration and borrowed their family name.

“Then your name will be Feng,” I announced, using my authority to apply the name and then raise Feng’s status.

“This one expresses immense gratitude to the Majesty!” Feng declared fervently, pressing his head deeper into the mud.

“Taotie?” The word felt as strange as it sounded, and I was forced to admit that learning Feng’s Species wouldn’t provide any answers.

The rest of Feng’s status was a different matter entirely.

Feng possessed only three Techniques. Breath Of The Heavenly Demon, which was presumably responsible for the emerald flames Feng had used against the barrier. Vorpal Winds Of Fury, the scything arcs of energy thrown from Feng’s claws. The final Technique, Gluttonous Greed Of The Taotie, was a mystery at first but Feng was quick to identify it as his Body Reinforcement Technique.

“This one gains strength by devouring the bodies and souls of the dead,” Feng explained humbly.

As grisly as his claim was, it wasn’t all that different to the progression of Evolution from consuming mana stones. Which the system appeared oddly in agreement with, providing a Racial Ability by the same name and providing the same general effect. However, what was most shocking was Feng’s second status outing him as a Demon.

One of the same Demons that the Cultivators blamed as the source of Demonic Cultivators.

This was odd considering Feng, an actual Demon, was only indirectly capable of the same terrifying feat Zhu Min could perform at will as a Demonic Cultivator.

Furthermore, Feng’s Body Reinforcement Technique appeared to be stuck at a progress of twenty per cent. Which struck me as odd.

While it was true Techniques became increasingly difficult to progress as they neared perfection, Feng’s Technique didn’t seem all that complicated. The best I could figure was that he probably needed a higher tier of prey to facilitate his advancement, or perhaps some form of enlightenment.

From the context of the manuals I had read, enlightenment was generally used as a catchall term for receiving inspiration to fill in holes left by poor instructions in a Technique’s training method. The more detailed a manual teaching a Technique was, it generally required less ‘enlightenment’ to progress. However, it was also possible to alter and evolve Techniques through inspiration-driven deviation.

Moving Feng into my party, I gave him the carcass of the boar so he could accelerate the healing of his wounds.

Feng swallowed the boar whole, dislocating his jaw like a snake and gulping it down in a single disturbingly practised motion. Despite the size of the boar, his stomach remained the same size as before, suggesting some kind of Spatial magic was at play.

Kwan was somewhat put out over losing his prize. Baring his teeth and hissing angrily at Feng to express his displeasure.

“Are there others?” I asked curiously, “Who can speak like you do I mean?”

Feng nodded solemnly. “This one’s rivals stalk the Majesty’s barrier even now, seeking to claim the peak for themselves.”

“How many are there?” I prompted, already extending my senses to search for them. If they were as strong as Feng, then I wanted to recruit them as well.

After all, the more powerful individuals I could gather for my counteroffensive the better.

“This one has three rivals,” Feng answered respectfully. “None dared stand against this one alone, seeking an alliance with one another to secure the peak and divide amongst themselves.”

Although I was disappointed that the other potential recruits wouldn’t be as powerful as Feng, I had to remind myself that three recruits of even half his strength would still be better than nothing.

It didn’t take me long to find the three individuals Feng had spoken of. While they were not as powerful as he was, they still possessed far more Chi and internal energy than the other beasts battling around the base of the mountain.

Relocating them and then imprisoning them just as I had done to Feng, I was almost surprised by how comparatively normal they appeared in comparison.

The first was a giant crow with three eyes and white feathers with crimson tips. The second was a large wolf with a shaggy black coat of fur and a mane of bristling spines. The last was a fox with bright red fur and five tails.

The crow and wolf were of comparable height, standing as tall as a human, about five and a half feet tall at the shoulder. While the fox was just the size of a large dog. However, there was also a hazy outline of a much larger and fiercer fox that extended past the barrier.

“It is the five-tails illusions,” Feng sniffed disdainfully, eliciting a savage snarl from the illusory fox while the true fox cowered as far back into the barrier as it was allowed.

“Snivelling coward!” The wolf barked. “Surrendering to this...” He paused and became momentarily uncertain of himself. “Thing...” He finished lamely. “To sell your pride so cheaply! Disgraceful!”

“Yet this one stands upon the mountain and you do not,” Feng sneered. “Better to live as a servant in a palace, than a lord in the mud.”

“Brother Taotie speaks wisely,” the three-eyed crow cawed with what sounded like profound reluctance.

“You too, brother crow?!” The wolf demanded incredulously, baring his fangs in anger and frustration.

“Brother wolf, we have tested this barrier many times,” admonished the crow wearily. “It is no weaker today than yesterday or the days before. The peak is beyond our reach.”

“Then we will take the humans’ palace!” The wolf barked.

“That is also impossible...” The three-eyed crow sighed, shaking its head wearily. “Their lands are protected with a barrier many times larger than this mountain and is just as strong...”

“Impossible...” The wolf replied breathlessly.

“This Monarch is unlike any other I have seen,” the fox agreed in a strangely feminine voice that took me slightly off guard. “To trap us so easily...”

“Your lives, pitiful as they may be, are completely within the Majesty’s hands,” Feng gloated, seemingly having already forgotten or forgiven having been in the same position only minutes before.

As one, the crow, wolf and fox looked away from one another and toward me instead.

<Dominance!> Kwan hissed aggressively, ignoring the considerable difference between his Cultivation and theirs.

I gave Kwan a firm rap on the back of the head with my knuckle as a reminder not to become overly arrogant.

“You have the same choice as Feng,” I announced firmly. “Serve, or die.”

The three beasts shared glances with one another, then, one by one, bowed their heads in defeat.

***** Baldr ~ Tim’s Realm ~ Baldr’s Vassalage ~ Bay of storms fortress *****

Despite the fair weather of the season, Baldr’s coastal fortress was packed to bursting with visitors. Jarls, Karls and their warriors had gathered from far and wide to trade their slaves for the Godstone the Tyrant’s representative promised in exchange.

Having expected a pebble of lesser Godstone per head, Baldr and his Karls had been the first to witness the Tyrant’s immense wealth. Indeed, they were the reason word had spread so quickly and led to the current issue of overcrowding.

Accompanied by his most trusted warriors, Baldr watched as the Tyrant’s representative silently appraised a pair of slaves. A middle-aged woman and a young boy.

“They have been well cared for,” the representative declared with the utmost confidence, materialising a chunk of Godstone the size of Baldr’s head into her hand. “Be sure to thank your stable boy, Ulfr, for his kindness. You would not have received such a prize otherwise,” she insisted and tossed the Godstone to the slaves’ former owner, a Karl from one of the eastern isles if his facial tattoo was anything to go by.

Despite having witnessed hundreds of such transactions already, the purity of the Godstone still caused Baldr’s heart to freeze in his chest.

“And remember, the Tyrant will not tolerate the taking of slaves in the future,” the Tyrant’s representative cautioned with a sinister smirk.

The visiting Karl nodded emphatically to show he understood and silently backed away to make room for the next in line.

With a wave of her hand, the former slaves disappeared. An understated yet compelling demonstration of the Tyrant’s power.

Jarl Alrik Gutherson, accompanied by his Huscarls, led a procession of what Baldr conservatively estimated to be about two and a half hundred slaves. In stark contrast to the slaves who had just preceded them, Jarl Alrik’s slaves were in a truly sorry state.

Despite the poor showing of his slaves, Jarl Alrik eagerly awaited the assessment and began waving forward a small procession of wagons to receive his anticipated payment.

The Tyrant’s representative slowly made her way amongst the slaves, taking a few moments to silently stare at each of them in turn. Once she was finished, a hail of Godstone fell neatly into the wagons and the slaves disappeared.

Jarl Alrik was about to follow his retreating procession of wagons but stopped dead in his tracks as he caught the representative's eyes.

“Hel awaits those who abuse little girls, Alrik Gutherson,” the Tyrant’s representative stated with a sharp-toothed and unmistakably predatory smile. “See that you remember that.”

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead and a chill wind swept in from the sea.

Baldr couldn’t help but glance toward the trio of young women sitting and standing on the rooftop beside him. Tall and bearing a balanced amount of muscle, they carried their weapons with intimate familiarity, leaving no doubt regarding their readiness for combat. Silvery wings of light flickered in and out of existence in time with the thunder, revealing their divine origins.

Valkyries.

They too were representatives of the Tyrant. However, it had been made clear to Baldr, in no uncertain terms, that they were serving in the role as observers only. Their cold hard eyes silently judging all who entered their sight.

Jarl Alrik was not the first to receive special attention and consideration from the Tyrant’s representative. And just like the others, the valkyries looked upon him with unrestrained scorn and disgust.

Baldr looked to his eldest son, Knut, and gave him a firm nod.

Understanding his father’s intentions, Knut dutifully marked Jarl Alrik’s house sigil down on a slate alongside six others. They would need to take steps to ensure a smooth succession for his replacement. After what happened to the household of Jarl Ulfr, they could not just assume a living relative would be available to take up the title.

The Tyrant, and later his representative, had made it clear from the beginning that certain crimes would warrant execution. However, Baldr had foolishly believed that the judgement of the guilty would be passed down in front of witnesses. That it would serve as a public example, just as the old laws had done.

An honourable death on the battlefield was one thing. The threat of Hel reaching out from Helhiem and claiming powerful men and women, entire households in the night, was something else entirely. Carrying terror on a level Baldr still hadn’t managed to rationalise.

Despite the rumours, Jarl Alrik arrogantly turned his back on the representative and scoffed derisively while shaking his head. No doubt, if he knew what Baldr knew, Jarl Alrik would be on his hands and knees, grovelling and begging in the dirt trying to bargain for his life and eternal soul.

“Father,” Baldr’s second son, Hafi, pushed through the ranks of the Huscarls and presented a stone slate bearing the diagrams for the new ritual site. “The sculptors say the important runework could be finished in just a few days if we can meet their price,” he announced optimistically, smiling in the same way that came so easily to him and his late mother.

Welcoming the distraction despite knowing the headache it would cause him later, Baldr looked over the plans to refresh his memory. “And what is their price?” He asked, bracing himself for what would almost certainly involve a near ruinous ransom in all but name.

Hafi nervously scratched at the back of his neck. “Well...It’s certainly more than we initially expected...” He admitted. “After all, the large amounts of Godstone now available has increased demand for their skills...”

“Hafi...I’m not a comely lass and do not need sweet nothings whispered in my ear...” Baldr growled goodnaturedly, already quite aware of the effects the Tyrant’s actions would have on trade within his realm.

“Apologies father, it’s just...The demands are outrageous...” Hafi admitted apologetically.

“I told you letting Astrid apprentice as a sculptor would pay off someday!” Knut interjected smugly. “Three fists of Godsilver isn’t so expensive now, is it?”

“Astrid is still a journeyman, and her master is the one that’s skinning us alive!” Hafi hissed back irritably. “He is demanding less than the others, but we have sacked entire realms for less!” It was almost certainly an exaggeration, but Baldr couldn’t fault his son for it. Losing such wealth to wanton greed was never a pleasant experience.

“Perhaps this Tyrant could be persuaded to provide sculptors?” Knut snickered, repeating a suggestion Hafi had made earlier.

A suggestion Baldr had already rejected.

If the Tyrant could freely part with so much Godstone on a whim, there was nothing they could offer that would tempt his favour.

<Now, that just isn’t true.> The soft feminine voice of the Tyrant’s representative purred within Baldr’s mind.

Judging by the shocked expressions of his sons, he guessed that they had heard her as well.

<The Tyrant expressed his desire for a numerous and proficient fighting force to exact retaliation upon a deserving foe. An expression of sincere interest would all but guarantee the Tyrant’s goodwill.> The representative insisted with absolute confidence.

Baldr stared out across the crowd and found the Tyrant’s representative smiling and looking back in their direction.

<Just something to consider.> The representative added before turning away.

“I was not aware you had given the representative one of the family’s far-speaking runes, father...” Knut whispered nervously.

“You should have warned us!” Hafi added worriedly.

Anxiously working his jaw, Baldr began trying to think of how best to explain that he had not, in fact, given the representative one of the Family’s far-speaking runes at all. Furthermore-

A sudden look of panic flashed in Hafi’s eyes, signalling that he had likely just realised that the far-speaking rune pinned to his left ear had remained dormant throughout. Meaning, that the representative was capable of interjecting herself as she willed, and there was likely nothing they could do to stop her.

Just a heads up

I am pushing hard to have the overdue chapter finished this evening. We will see how that goes.

I wasn't happy with the chapter I had written, so I am taking it in a different direction, which is why it's late. I'll also be working to get back to the Saturday midday (My time) release date as well, now that the craziness of the holidays is over.

I'm just waiting on a final piece from my illustrator Elynelle, then I'll release a small series of commissioned pieces all revolving around a visual story/theme. I think the next piece I commission will show Tim with all his spell tattoos.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 78 - Violence and vengeance - Part Two

I will be taking another editing pass this evening.
Also, Merry Christmas :)

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 78 - Violence and Vengeance - Part Two

Using my authority so we wouldn’t disturb the others, I left the cave with Suzy and made a spiralling waterslide for her to play with. Thankfully, Suzy appeared more than satisfied with riding the slide on her own, so long as I was actively watching and praising her bravery.

Kwan, roughly twice the size he had been before I last went to sleep, refused to approach the water. However, he did make a few attempts at entertaining Suzy by controlling the water from a distance. Forming translucent copies of himself and having them dance and fly for her amusement.

Cycling my breathing Technique throughout, I was relieved to find my migraine’s intensity was lessened by minor degrees. Which was something else I hadn’t fully appreciated until I had time to consider things.

The severity of my migraine and the lingering ache in my bones had been reduced somewhat considerably while I had slept. My internal energy had regenerated somewhat as well. So I couldn’t help but think my unwell state was related to overtaxing myself when hatching Kwan.

My thoughts turned to Pete and Momoko’s exhausted state.

Was I responsible?

Seeking answers, I was stunned to find that they had both learned several Techniques and progressed their respective Cultivation far higher than my own. One of the Techniques all but spelled out their actions, cementing my guilt.

I couldn’t, wouldn’t, make excuses. I was doing what needed to be done to keep them safe, and I hadn’t asked them to involve themselves. However, I hadn’t forbidden them either.

Sending Suzy back to bed, I resolved to take more active steps to rejuvenate myself.

Donning my stone armour, I exercised my authority and locked onto Gric’s position. Going through the motions to teleport myself to his general vicinity, I became aware of what I assumed was the Vassalized Monarch’s native authority.

I arrived in a dark smokey chamber.

Closing my inner eyelids against the smoke and dismissing several notifications that marked my successful resistance to a host of Conditions. I found Gric standing beside a cloaked figure my authority immediately identified as the native ruler of the realm, Thirteen.

“My Tyrant,” Gric bowed his head respectfully. “I must apologise! I have been trying to locate the reservoir that feeds the braziers but have met with little success...”

“It’s fine,” I replied somewhat dismissively, devoting the majority of my attention to the unexpectedly weak Cultivator cowering at his back. “You are Thirteen, the designated heir of the former Monarch.”

Seemingly uncertain how they should behave, the cloaked figure attempted to shy away and bow at the same time. However, they tripped on the edge of their cloak and tumbled forward onto the stone floor.

With my vision somewhat distorted by the smoke, it took me a few moments to be certain of what I was seeing.

Rather than trying to rise, Thirteen curled herself tight into a foetal position and grew deathly still, cradling her pale emaciated body with a scaly arm that was several sizes too large for her frail frame. The tension made the scars on her sallow flesh stand out like bloody crescents on a field of fresh snow.

Without saying a word, Gric knelt beside Thirteen and gave me a helpless and somewhat frustrated shrug. <Was I wrong to offer her a haven?> He asked, uncertain but also giving off the impression that he might challenge my answer if he deemed it unsatisfactory.

<No...> I slowly shook my head and reevaluated my position. <You did the right thing Gric.> If I had seen someone in that state, I doubt I would have had the heart to act any differently.

<There are others.> Gric commented darkly, his thoughts rumbling like distant storm clouds. <Sebet and Wraithe are treating those they can, but...> He looked pointedly at Thirteen. <There are sources of damage that cannot be corrected without causing greater harm, or even death...My Tyrant, we need to know where you wish to keep them...Many are a danger to others...Their minds broken or bodies poisonous to the touch...>

<I’ll set aside a territory for them...> I replied distractedly, imagining what had been done to the young woman cowering on the floor but on a far larger scale. Struggling to process the horror such images invoked in my mind. <I need to see for myself...>

Locking onto Sebet’s position, I felt the same resistance to my authority as before. As I pushed through the resistance, Thirteen released a faint whimper. Whether it was out of pain or fear was unclear.

Appearing a short distance from Sebet, I had just a handful of seconds to recognise that I was surrounded by hundreds of people. Then, the screaming started.

Men, women and children, many of them bearing ugly surgical scars and monstrous limbs, began fleeing in all directions. Whether they lacked the strength of the will, some of them simply collapsed to the floor and narrowly avoided being trampled.

<You need to LEAVE!> Wraithe demanded angrily.

<It would be best!> Sebet agreed, activating her limited authority and attempting to send me elsewhere.

Realising I was only going to cause more harm, I used my authority to return to the other room.

I sat in silence for the better part of an hour, processing what I had seen in the other chamber. Cages stacked high to the ceiling, caked with grime and excrement, saturated in misery. Tables scattered with axes, knives and coarse thread. All were stained with blood so old it permeated their very being.

As horrific as those particular details were, the stark utility of the drainage system chilled me to the bone.

There were no visible attempts to mitigate the suffering of those being operated upon. Yet the operating tables had deliberate grooves cut into their surface to direct bodily fluids toward the drains beneath the tables. Similarly, the cages were positioned above massive grates that would serve as their only means of expelling waste. Requiring as little interaction with the prisoners as possible.

The Monarch responsible was dead, but it did little to stem the rising tide of revulsion and anger inside of me.

Someone needed to pay for this.

<Apologies, my Tyrant...I was quite thorough...> Gric apologised and made a point of looking at several of the larger bloodstains on the floor.

I briefly considered leaving my realm and chasing down the Beetlemen, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. I wasn’t nearly ready to face them on even ground again.

All the same, I couldn’t shake the increasing need to do something...Anything...

[ {Baldr Vragison ~ 6521} has issued a {Supremacy Challenge} against your Vassal {Thirteen ~ 3623}. {Thirteen} lacks explicit permission and cannot engage in the {Supremacy Challenge}. The Monarch will take the Vassal’s place and has ( 23h 59m 47s ) to dictate the terms of the conflict. ]

[ The penalty for refusing the {Supremacy Challenge} has been escalated due to {Vassal Inactivity} and is temporarily set at ( 50% ) of {Thirteen’s} {Dimensional Assets and Territories}. ]

The notification took me by surprise and only further stoked my anger.

Why couldn’t they just leave us alone?!

“Single combat!” I snarled viciously. “Just me and him! For everything he has!”

[ The monarch has chosen a duel between Monarchs. The Stakes have been set at ( 38 ) Standard Territories. ]

“NO!” Gric cried out in alarm rising and leaping toward me with arms open wide, as if believing he could stop what was to come by tackling me to the floor.

The smoky stone chamber disappeared and was replaced with a bleak expanse of rugged scrubland.

A tall broad-shouldered man with long blond thickly braided hair and wearing a burnished chain hauberk stared back at me from a few dozen feet away. The look in his slate-grey eyes made it clear that I was not who he had been expecting.

“Greetings! I am Baldr Vragison! High King of the shattered isles and the frozen sea!” Baldr’s voice was rough but held an unmistakable singsong quality my brain subconsciously associated with the northern European countries from Earth. Although I had no way of knowing which one specifically. “I have given my name, so it is only fair you give yours!” He demanded with an air of amusement.

Gathering my MP, I made a point of staring Baldr dead in the eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

Despite the distance between us, Baldr seemed to have heard what I said. “Stranger, you do not wish for the Skalds to honour your legacy?!” He sounded genuinely concerned. “Felling one of your size and strength will guarantee my story is told for hundreds of generations to come! It is not right that your memory would be tarnished in this way!”

“It doesn’t matter,” I repeated darkly, forming a large hammer from the stone beneath my feet.

“Earth-shaper?” Baldr’s words were carried with unexpected clarity despite the distance between us. “It is another witch then?” He pulled his spear free of the earth at his side and bright runes blazed along the length of the shaft, radiating a powerful aura of Chi.

Concentrating my MP into the head of the hammer, I cast the Thundering Strikes Spell and charged.

“Thurr! Bless me with your might!” Baldr raised the leaf-bladed head of his spear to the sky, seemingly ignoring my advance.

Thunder roared overhead and lightning saturated with Chi forked from the sky, striking Baldr’s spear and arcing over his armour. A cyclone of runes flashed to life around him and Baldr’s body began to swell in size.

Conjuring a shield out of thin air at the last possible moment, Baldr deflected the blow I had intended for his skull. However, he had not expected what would follow and was sent flying backwards across the scrublands as the pressure from the explosion threw him off his feet.

Digging the butt of his spear into the ground, Baldr abruptly terminated his impromptu flight across the scrublands and regained his footing. Still surrounded by the floating runes, his increase in size was dramatic and in other circumstances may have been a cause for concern. However, he was still less than half my height, now twelve or fourteen feet tall at the most.

“By Wodin! That was a mighty blow!” Baldr roared vigorously, casting down his shield, now splintered and mangled, conjuring a replacement in its stead. “Stranger! Why not give your name?!”

Casting the Thundering Strikes Spell again, I hurled the stone shaft of the hammer in his general direction. We were close enough that I was confident I could hit him, provided he didn’t move, but beyond that, I had little confidence.

The improvised projectile sailed a foot wide of Baldr’s head and struck the ground a short distance beyond. While unphased by the stone spear flying past his head, Baldr made a point of crouching low and taking cover behind his shield from the accompanying shrapnel that flew back in his direction.

Casting the Shape Stone Spell, I raised five massive pillars from the earth and formed a temporary Chi Gathering Formation. Combined with the Formation already inscribed into my armour, most of my MP could be recovered by cycling my breathing Technique to restore my Chi.

I didn’t expect the fight to drag on, but I wanted to be prepared if it did.

Baldr eyed the pillars with concern for a few moments before shaking his head and striking the stave of his spear against the flat of his shield. “Stranger! Will you not fight me as a man?!”

Ignoring the pain from my migraine, I began stalking toward my enemy.

“Yes!” Baldr struck his shield thrice more in rapid succession and broke into a purposeful jog.

Just moments from coming within striking distance of one another, the runes on Baldr’s spear flared to life and the shaft extended several feet. Driving the spear forward with a mighty roar, Baldr’s savage grin turned to surprise as the head of the spear skittered harmlessly off my plate armour and off to my left side.

Despite his surprise, Baldr managed to catch my backhand against the rim of his shield, turning my strike aside and leaving me open for a retaliatory strike of his own. Or would have, if his shield and spear were not equally out of position.

Before I could drive my knee into his chest, Baldr leapt forward and to the side, placing him at my back.

I felt another light impact against my back, accompanied by a metallic clanging sound.

Rolling forward because of my established momentum, I scrambled at the dirt and redirected myself toward where I expected Baldr to be. Only to find that he wasn’t there.

Hearing a throaty roar coming from above, I resisted the urge to look up. Instead, I surrounded myself with Death-Affinity enriched Chi.

The roar turned to a pained yelp of surprise and the shaft of Baldr’s spear clattered harmlessly off my right pauldron. Baldr himself landed two dozen feet away, his right arm hanging limply at his side. “Hel! You have the cutting winds of Helheim at your call?!” He dropped his shield and slowly backed away. “Stranger! I seek no further conflict with you! There is no honour in falling to such sorcery!”

Taken aback, I stared at the cowering Monarch in surprise.

“I yield!” Baldr called out, raising his left arm and showing his open palm as proof of his intentions. “Stranger! Name your price! There is no glory to be found here!”

Anger swelled inside of me and for a moment, overwhelmed me. Seizing control over myself once more, I took several deep breaths and realised Baldr might provide the solution I was looking for. “Submit!” I demanded bluntly.

Baldr stared back at me in surprise.

“Submit!” I repeated, taking several steps closer to intimidate him further. “Swear fealty to me and I will let you live!” I expanded my aura and a large swathe of plant life between us withered and died.

If Baldr chose to Forfeit, I would gain half his territories. However, I didn’t want his territories, I wanted the Monarch himself.

I already had hundreds of thousands of subjects who could be drafted to wage war against my enemies. However, the majority were nowhere near strong enough to survive the opening engagements, let alone a protracted war. Which was why I needed subordinates who could take the fight to my enemies NOW. Subordinates who were already equipped to face higher stakes.

I needed more Vassals.

Irritated by Baldr’s indecision, I ramped up the theatrics by adding Thunder Chi to my aura, causing the air to crackle and hum with electricity.

“Allfather preserve me...” Baldr retreated several more steps and then fell to one knee. “I...I cannot blindly pledge servitude to one who wields the power of Hel...”

“Fealty!” I snarled. “NOT SLAVERY!”

Baldr flinched but didn’t look away. “You would swear upon your name?” He asked tentatively.

“On my name, I keep no Slaves!” I swore grimly. “I free them!”

Instead of relieving his concerns, Baldr became increasingly nervous.

“If you or your people have Slaves, they will be taken from you and given their freedom,” I stated bluntly, leaving no room for interpretation. “Rapists and murderers will be punished per my laws! And those with lesser sins will be given the opportunity to reform...”

Baldr grimly considered his options for the better part of a minute before removing his helmet and laying it on the ground before him. “As ruler of my people, I, Baldr Vragison, High King of the shattered isles and the frozen sea, swear my fealty! Should I break my oath, may my soul be damned to the wastes of Helheim for eternity!”

After Baldr’s Oath, the Supremacy Challenge was concluded and I was returned to the stone chamber. Thirteen was gone but Gric remained.

“You are well?” Gric asked earnestly, looking me up and down with evident concern in his eyes.

Lying would be pointless, so I didn’t bother trying to do so. “I’m not...” I admitted bluntly but didn’t back down. “I can’t afford to just wait around, I need to act!”

Gric didn’t disagree, but I could tell by the unchanged look in his eyes that he did not approve.

“Those Beetlemen and whoever sent them need to be put down,” I insisted. “And I am not going to throw men and women into a battle which they are not prepared for.”

“So you will send these subjugated Monarchs in their place?” Gric guessed, proving he was more than capable of reading my actions to determine my intentions.

“Exactly,” I agreed. “They would just be fighting amongst themselves anyway, so why not put their aggression and experience toward a good cause?” Even I couldn’t help but notice the defensive tone in my voice as I said the last.

“Confronting rival Monarchs is inevitable,” Gric commented neutrally. “I only fear that you are placing yourself in too much danger! Why not take me with you?” He pleaded.

There was little reason why I shouldn’t. I knew that. But the part of my brain making the decisions wasn’t making it a priority. More than that, I had become too complacent. Allowing Gric, Sebet, and others to fight my battles for me.

I had nearly died because I allowed panic to dictate my actions, and the only way I could see to change that was by exposing myself to danger and acclimating myself to it. Just as I had learned to kill when needed, I needed to learn how to keep a level head in battle.

My agitated state wouldn’t make things any easier, but I didn’t have the time to wait for things to sort themselves out either.

“When I can, I need to do things on my own,” I knelt on one knee to bring us closer to eye level with one another. “If I don’t do this, everything we have fought for, everything we have built, could be destroyed...I know you don’t want that...”

Gric balled his fists so tight that his blood began spattering the floor beneath our feet. “I. Can’t. Accept. That!” He growled, baring his teeth and accentuating each word with a tense flutter of his wings.

“You have to,” I replied firmly. “This is something I need to do.”

Gric scowled and his right eye began to twitch. Then, without warning, he disappeared.

Despite being resolved to my new course of action, I felt a momentary crisis of confidence as I reconciled the fact that I would need to discuss the matter with Lash. While I had been able to stand my ground against Gric, it was largely due to the dominant position in our relationship. With Lash, it was different.

All things considered, someone could probably make the argument that I held the dominant position in our relationship. But only because I was something approximating a nascent Emperor on top of everything else. When it came to matters regarding our relationship and dynamics, Lash was the one who took the lead in almost every instance.

It wasn’t in a domineering or oppressive manner, and I certainly didn’t have a fetish for such things. She was just far more confident and acclimated to our relationship.

In the simplest of terms, Lash didn’t have the neurosis and fears of rejection that made me second guess and overanalyse the simplest of requests. At any given moment, she knew who she was, what she wanted and what she would do to get it. I didn’t.

I was growing more assertive and pushing myself to be less passive, but it was an ongoing process and Lash had a hell of a head start.

In many ways, Lash and I were fundamentally different people. Our lives before meeting one another were utterly alien to the others' experiences with very little common ground to speak of. Even now, if we set aside our mutual attraction and infatuation with one another, our children would be considered the greatest bond between us.

Most likely because of my life on Earth and a host of neurosis, I still had to work through, I considered our children to be more hers than mine. Defaulting the prime position of advocacy for their wellbeing in the process.

If Lash argued against what I intended to do...What I had already begun to do...I wasn’t sure I could continue.

Returning to The Grove, I stripped my armour and settled down beside the lake so I could prepare and gather my thoughts.

Suzy was still shooting headfirst down the slide I had made for her and was joined by a handful of the Lizardmen’ children as well. Although strangely uniform in how they descended the slide, the Lizardmen were no less animated than Suzy in expressing their enjoyment while scrambling to take their place back at the top.

Toying with the idea of Summoning a projection of Lash so I could talk to her without disturbing her sleep, I ultimately abandoned the idea when I saw her leaving our cave and headed my way.

Without saying a word, she sat down beside me in the mud and waited.

I told Lash everything. What I had done. What I intended to do and why.

A long silence passed between us and as it dragged on, I became increasingly certain that Lash would call me an idiot or a fool. That I was taking too many risks for little gain and should just stay within Sanctuary.

“I understand...” Lash said quietly, breaking the silence. She was staring at Suzy just the same as I was with a hard calculating look in her faintly glowing eyes. Lash took hold of my arm and drew it around her shoulders, resting her head against my chest. “All I ask...” Lash stared determinedly up into my eyes, her jaw and brow set to let me know that her condition would not be up for negotiation. “Return to us...” She demanded bluntly.

There were different ways to interpret her demand. However, I knew Lash well enough to know that she likely meant as many interpretations as I could think of. Lash was strange like that sometimes.

“Allways,” I promised solemnly.

Searching my eyes for a few moments, Lash slowly nodded in satisfaction. Looking back toward Suzy and the increasingly long line of Lizardmen children, Lash pointed to the slide and then nodded toward Eg who was awkwardly watching from the entrance to our cave. “She cannot swim,” Lash commented. “She wants to join, but cannot. She is afraid. Afraid of the water. Afraid of being alone...”

I hadn’t considered Eg’s limitations and how that would affect her socially when I was making the slide. I hadn’t been thinking of Pete or Momoko either. I was just trying to make Suzy happy by giving her a piece of play equipment.

Of course, it wasn’t difficult to provide an alternative.

Exercising my authority, I raised an embankment around a small section of the lake for safety. I laid out the smooth recessed stone path down a mild incline to encourage an even distribution of water and to somewhat compensate for certain children's timorousness or inexperience. With the water supplied through stone pipes buried beneath the path, I hoped they would avoid the abuses hoses suffered on Earth.

All told, the effort only took a couple of minutes.

I had barely finished when Suzy noticed the latest addition to the small waterpark.

Inspecting the path closely, Suzy slapped at the running water and inquisitively followed its progress down the path. Uncertain whether she would understand its intended purpose, my doubts were banished when Suzy looked pointedly back toward the slide and moved back several long paces.

Taking a short run up to gain momentum, she threw herself onto the makeshift slip and slide, sending sheets of water spraying out either side of the path before ploughing face-first into a patch of comparatively shallow mud. Cackling like a demon, Suzy ran back to the top of the slip-and-slide to go again.

“Despite appearances, it should be quite safe,” I explained and then nodded toward Eg. “It looks a lot scarier than it is. So you might need to go with her the first couple of times.”

Lash nodded in understanding but didn’t get up right away. “Are there others?” She asked uncertainly, struggling to find the right words. “Other, large toys?”

“Play equipment?” I qualified, reasonably certain that Lash could guess at the meaning from context.

Lash nodded.

“Well...Yeah, I could make more...but not all of it would be well suited for bigger children...” I cautioned, earning a confused but curious look in return. “All of the play equipment I know of was designed for human children,” I wavered my hand a few feet above the mud. “And some things are more complicated than just making them larger.”

I got to my feet and conjured a long thick length of rope. After tying the rope between two large trees, I spent roughly ten minutes making a crude pulley from magically shaped stone and wood which formed the foundation for the zipline mechanism.

“This isn’t an ideal representation,” I cautioned, wanting to bring Lash’s expectations more in line with the primitive hack job I had put together. “But the idea is that you hold onto these handles and sort of fly from one end to the other. Where I am from, we called them flying foxes, but I think the proper name is zipline or something like that...”

“Fly?” Lash asked curiously, eyeing the handles with increased interest.

“More or less,” I shrugged. “You’ll understand after trying it.”

Lash nodded and after listening to my instructions raced down the length of the rope. Very nearly being thrown off as she reached the far end.

I had never built a zipline before and the angle had proven far more aggressive than I intended. Not that Lash seemed to mind.

“How to go again?!” Lash asked excitedly, still hanging from the handles a good ten feet off the ground.

I tied a length of rope to the handle and made a platform Lash could drop onto without risking bruising her tailbone. “The few I had seen used a rope or length of cord to drag it back to the start,” I explained and pointed to the rope I had just attached to the handle. “The Dwergi could almost certainly make something more durable. If you think the kids would like it-”

“They will love it!” Lash declared emphatically, clearly quite taken with the flying fox herself.

“I’ll have one of their engineers take a look then,” I promised, making a point of enjoying the moment.

Aware that my resolve was faltering, I said my goodbyes and left.

Before seeking out another target, I had to settle things with Baldr and lay the groundwork for those who would come after.

Isolating a single territory, I made a Teleportation Array and relocated my faux throne room to the centre of the territory.

Borrowing the expertise of two Semenovian and Asrusian diplomats, I redecorated the throne room to repurpose it into something more closely approximating a meeting hall that would host councils of war.

The meeting table was made of stone, allowing me, or others, to shape its surface and provide visual references.

After compensating the diplomats for their expertise and time, I dismissed their projections and used my authority to Summon Baldr to the meeting hall.

Dressed in a pale blue tunic tied at the waist with a thick leather belt and wearing green pants, Baldr’s feet were bare and he appeared to be unarmed. However, the copper raven amulet hanging from his neck gave off a faint trace of Spatial Affinity. Making it quite likely that he was less than a second away from being combat-ready at any given moment.

My suspicions quickly proved true as a familiar spear suddenly appeared in Baldr’s left hand. However, it was his blackened right hand that held my attention.

“I intend you no harm,” I cautioned while making it clear that I would punish any attempt at violence in kind.

Baldr was my Vassal but was not fully bound by the Oaths extracted from my other subjects. At least, not yet.

Recognition warred with surprise in Baldr’s slate-grey eyes as he saw my true form for the first time. “So you are a giant...” He muttered, becoming noticeably more ill at ease.

Extending my senses, I locked onto the Death Chi still contained within his right hand.

As if he could feel my eyes beneath his skin, Baldr jerked his right hand backward and retreated several steps.

Focusing on the Death Chi, I began cycling my breathing Technique and slowly drawing out the Chi I had embedded in his hand.

Despite his obvious reservations, Baldr surprised me when he set down his spear and assumed what I could only assume was a cycling stance of his own.

After ten minutes of concentrated effort, I was finally able to draw the last of the Death Chi from Baldr’s hand and forearm.

Without saying a word, Baldr withdrew a waterskin from his pack and tore free the plug with his teeth. A faint scent of fermented berries and raw honey wafted from the waterskin as he tilted his head back and began downing the contents.

Little by little, the colour returned to his hand and Baldr was able to begin stiffly moving his wrist and fingers. Which was just as well. While I could have used Baldr as a cautionary tale to cow future Vassals into line, I doubted he would have been able to maintain primacy within his own Realm without direct support.

It was far better for my plans if Baldr could be returned to prime fighting condition.

Unsurprisingly, Baldr became markedly less skittish with the initial restoration of his hand. Whether that was because I had demonstrated a more reasonable side of myself, or he no longer had to worry about the loss of his dominant hand, was anyone's guess. Likely, it was a combination of the two and a dozen other factors besides.

“I don’t want there to be bad blood between us,” I explained bluntly. “If you need anything else to assure your recovery, I will make sure you get it.”

Baldr brusquely shook his head. “My thanks, Lord, but I have restorative draughts in abundance.” He raised his right arm and flexed his fingers. “Already I feel the Vanirs’ magic returning life to what was nearly lost.” Baldr shifted uncomfortably. “I do not intend disrespect, Lord. Yet, I do not know the title or name to give what is due.”

That was a fair point. I had been far from forthcoming during our last meeting. However, it was also curious that Notifications hadn’t provided some of the answers.

“My title is Tyrant, but Lord or Majesty will suffice if you have a personal preference,” I replied amiably, uncertain whether my title would even translate meaningfully into the northern European lexicon.

Baldr nodded in understanding and patiently waited for me to continue.

“As for my name? You may call me Tim.” Despite myself, I was still surprised when my name didn’t elicit a noteworthy reaction. I kept forgetting that my name wasn’t that weird in a wider context. Or rather, it was just as weird as something like Tyranox or Glunt. Even the handful of Ogres that had learned my name didn’t bat an eye over it.

“Lord, if I can ask another question?” Baldr asked somewhat uncertaintly.

I motioned for him to proceed, curious to see what was foremost on his mind.

“Lord, you said my people would be bound to your laws...” Baldr explained carefully. “I was holding council when delivered to this place...Spreading word of my defeat and conditions of surrender.” He shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “Slaves tend the fields of many battle-hardened warriors, Lord...So I ask only if loyal men are required to see the law fulfilled?”

“It will not be necessary,” I replied confidently. “However, as a gesture of goodwill and transparency, I will allow you to assign a small contingent of observers so you and your people might better understand the new way.”

Baldr bobbed his head in acknowledgment and seemed somewhat mollified. No doubt glad that he and his confidantes wouldn’t be excessively implicated in what would certainly cause a tremendous uproar.

Gathering a measure of MP, I Summoned Gric and Sebet to my side.

Gric appeared just as sullen as when I had left him last, but Sebet looked particularly eager to get started.

“This is Gric and Sebet,” I motioned to each of them in turn. “They are the second highest authorities and enforcers of my laws and speak with my voice in almost all things.”

Sebet, wearing her true form, grinned at Baldr with barely restrained anticipation. “Attempting to impede our duties would be most unwise,” she added cheerily, morphing her body and taking on the form of a tall northern European woman with long blonde hair and piercing sky-blue eyes.

[ {Heaven’s Fury ~ 3352} has issued a {Supremacy Challenge} against your Vassal {Baldr Vragison ~ 6521}. {Baldr Vragison} lacks explicit permission and cannot engage in the {Supremacy Challenge}. The Monarch will take the Vassal’s place and has ( 23h 59m 47s ) to dictate the terms of the conflict. ]

[ The penalty for refusing the {Supremacy Challenge} has been escalated due to {Vassal Inactivity} and is temporarily set at ( 50% ) of {Baldr Vragison’s} {Dimensional Assets and Territories}. ]

Baldr gave a start, confirming that he had no doubt just received the same notifications I had.

“A rival of yours?” I asked, somewhat surprised by how profoundly unsettled Baldr had become after receiving the notifications.

“N-No...Ah, I mean, yes, Lord...” Baldr stammered, appearing more than a little uncertain of his own words. “I slew Heaven’s Fury in battle not three days ago...”

“This would be their heir then,” I guessed.

Baldr nodded. “It would be my guess, Lord.”

“Which would make it unlikely that they would be stronger than you,” I reasoned aloud. However, it was important to note that I had scared Baldr into surrendering rather than fighting him in a true contest of arms.

Baldr shrugged. Either uncertain of the answer, or unwilling to give voice to what might be an unwelcome truth.

<The late Monarch did not seem any more competent than your first champions...> Sebet commented hesitantly. <Although it is difficult to be certain when dealing with these Cultivators...>

<You think I can take his replacement?> I asked. I was already committed to facing the new Heaven’s Fury, but I wouldn’t ignore any potential advice that could make a difference.

<I believe so...> Sebet agreed cagily before rallying abruptly. <Even if the battle turns against you, you can just Summon us to guarantee your victory.>

That was a fair point, but I wouldn’t use any Summons unless I absolutely had to. Otherwise, it would defy the point of fighting these battles in person in the first place.

<Although...> Sebet stroked her chin thoughtfully. <Perhaps it would be worth your consideration to alternate forms between battles?> She suggested helpfully. <So you are better acclimated to fighting stronger foes from different altitudes.> Sebet suppressed an amused smirk, evidently not afraid of showing she was entertained by her own joke.

It wasn’t a terrible idea.

Conjuring my second, smaller, set of plate armour, I dismissed Gric’s projection and set about donning my armour.

While I was otherwise occupied, I gave Sebet instructions to begin coaching Baldr on our laws in preparation for inducting his subjects.

After a few moments, I made a stone mace with the Empowered Shape Stone Spell. So long as past experience held true, the magically reinforced stone could deliver a Thundering Strike without blowing itself apart in the process.

Resisting the temptation to take additional support, I confirmed my selection and initiated the Supremacy Challenge.

In stark contrast to the bleak scrublands where I had fought Baldr, I was now surrounded by rolling green hills with scattered gatherings of bushes and trees. A squat stone tower stood atop the tallest hill and probably afforded an expansive view of the immediate surroundings.

Taking a few experimental steps across the grass, I became increasingly nervous as my boots sank deep into the dirt and I struggled to gain proper traction.

“HEATHEN!!!” The roar of anger and indignation immediately drew my attention southward and toward a figure that looked oddly similar to the man whose company I had just left. The new arrival’s shield was oval-shaped rather than circular, and his hair was considerably darker. “YOU WILL RETURN GOD’S FAITHFUL OR FACE HIS WRATH!!!” A corona of pale golden light gathered above his head and a dark chorus of voices singing in near perfect harmony washed down the hillside.

Recognising some of the words as Latin, I found myself grinning like an idiot. Simply too overwhelmed by the absurdity of it all.

The enemy had his own theme song. Or was it boss music?

Seeking more favourable terrain, I strafed toward the closest trees and began using my MP to encourage the growth of their root network underfoot. It didn’t have as great of an effect as I had been hoping for, but it was certainly better than nothing.

“HAVE YOU NOTHING TO SAY?!!!” Heaven’s Fury demanded, incidentally causing the voices of his supporting chorus to rise in both volume and intensity.

I was tempted to Summon Orphiel or Ophelia, just to see how he would react, but resisted the urge.

Instead, I raised the visor of my helmet so he could see my face and recognise I was not the person he thought I was.

“SO BE IT!!!” Heaven’s Fury cried.

A sudden surge in his Chi was all the warning I received before being blinded by golden light.

...

In so much pain I couldn’t breathe, I had collapsed to the ground, barely regaining my senses in time to watch as Heaven’s Fury began charging to close the final distance between us.

Having difficulty gathering my thoughts, I grit my teeth and forced myself to my feet.

Heaven’s Fury’s spear narrowly missed my exposed face and was driven wide by my gorget.

Lashing out more out of a primal desire for retribution rather than recognising the opportunity for a counterattack, I thrust my mace square into his sternum and knocked him off his feet.

Pausing only long enough to paw my visor down, I kicked at Heaven’s Fury’s shield, refusing to let up the pressure and allow him to regain the initiative.

Abandoning his spear, Heaven’s Fury rolled to one side and tried to rise while protecting himself with his shield. However, a second kick knocked him back down before he could even get his feet beneath him.

Having lost my mace, I seized him by the collar of his gambeson with my left hand and delivered a Thundering Strike to his face with my right.

Heaven’s Fury bucked from the impact, but I refused to let go, delivering several more blows in rapid succession.

“FAITH IS MY SHIELD!!!” Heaven’s Fury roared, his teeth stained crimson with his own blood.

Just as my fist was about to connect for what may have been the ninth or even tenth time, there was another bright flash of golden light. I reeled backwards as pain erupted from the left side of my face and the vision in my left eye was briefly turned into a kaleidoscope of broken colours.

Snarling in anger, I cast Barrier and bodily threw Heaven's Fury back to the ground.

The halo above his head wavered for a moment and then winked out entirely as his head struck the earth. The invisible choir grew silent.

I seized Heaven's Fury by the throat and began to squeeze. “Yield!” I growled menacingly, struggling to suppress the urge to just continue tightening my grip.

“Never!” Heaven’s Fury hissed, sending traces of bloody spittle through my visor and into my eyes. A half second later, he struck the side of my helmet with the rim of his shield but failed to accomplish much of anything.

Unable to maintain the Barrier much longer without depleting my MP, I was forced to end the Spell.

Heaven’s Fury grinned savagely. “GOD IS WITH ME!!!” He struck me again with his shield, only this time it hit with the force of a speeding truck.

Losing my grip on the collar of his gambeson, I was knocked backwards and tumbled to the ground.

The invisible choir began chanting again and I became vaguely aware of the golden light steadily building in my peripheral vision.

Suppressing my anger, I forced myself to my feet.

“DIE HEATHEN!!!” Heaven’s Fury howled with fanatical fervour and drove a spear made from golden light at my chest.

It struck the crimson plates, wavered, then shattered, disintegrating into a thousand tiny pieces and evaporating into nothingness.

Heaven’s Fury stared at his empty right hand in stunned silence.

Before he could recover, I created a lance of fire in my right hand and returned the blow in kind. Despite lacking a physical presence I could apply direct pressure to and increase the force of the blow, I was still able to exert my Fire Affinity to roughly approximate the same general effect.

Hauberk glowing cherry red and gambeson smouldering beneath, Heaven’s Fury staggered backward, barely managing to keep his feet as he grimaced in pain.

“Submit!” I commanded, raising my fiery spear for another blow.

“NEVER!!!” Heaven’s Fury roared and a second smaller carona joined the first. Blood began trailing down his face and from beneath the sleeves of his hauberk and gambeson. “MARTYRDOM BEFORE APOSTASY!!!” A sword made from golden flames appeared in his right hand, except I couldn’t sense any flames within it.

There was a terrifyingly large amount of Chi, but no fire.

Given the almost liquid nature of the blade, I wasn’t confident that armour would stop it.

Carefully backing up several steps to give myself some options, I decided on a new strategy and began investing my Chi into the ground beneath us.

As Heaven’s Fury began his advance, I drew his legs into the earth, burying him to his knees. Struggling in vain to free himself, the fanatic glared at me with absolute hatred in his eyes. “COWARD!!!”

“No.” I drew him deeper, burying him just shy of his waist. No matter how much he struggled, I continued drawing him deeper. Once I was confident he couldn’t break himself free, I dismissed my sword. “I won’t kill you, not unless I have to.”

Heaven’s Fury glowered back at me in hateful silence.

“Before you attacked me, you said something about returning your people?” I prompted.

“If you have harmed them-” Heaven’s Fury began to hiss.

“I'm not the one who took them,” I interjected firmly.

Heaven’s Fury stared blankly at me for a few moments before slowly shaking his head. “No, this is some sort of trick...”

“I defeated the man who took them,” I countered. “I am the one who is seeing to their freedom even as we speak.” There were no guarantees that Baldr or his people had mistreated those they gained through Conquest and other means, but I wasn’t so optimistic as to blindly believe everything had been sunshine and roses either.

“No...You lie! It is not possible!” Heaven’s Fury spat bitterly.

“What would it take for you to believe me?” I asked, prepared to Summon one of the missing people by name.

Heaven’s Fury glared at me with naked disdain. “The word of a heathen means less than nothing! Only divine revelation from almighty God would convince me otherwise!”

For obvious reasons, that wouldn’t work. So, I decided it would be worth trying the next best thing.

I just had to hope Orphiel was better at diplomacy and improv than he was at fighting.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 78 - Violence and vengeance - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 78 - Violence and vengeance - Part One

Tran Quang Dat casually scanned the procession of shackled peasants with mild interest. The Black Viper clan had offered the slaves as alternative payment in place of Spirit Stones, and Dat had decided to accept.

On other occasions, she may not have been as accommodating. However, Dat was nearing a breakthrough in her research and required fresh and unspoilt materials.

As Monarch, Dat was within her rights to seize any individuals or even entire clans, if she so chose. However, such actions were best left as a last resort. It was far better for a clan to beggar themselves into her debt than for her to give the clans cause to rebel.

Dat had learned from her father’s mistakes and was loath to demonstrate her true strength unless it was absolutely necessary. It was also a contributing reason why she did not levy taxes. She found it far more effective to demand tribute as needed, allowing the clans periods of unchecked prosperity in exchange.

Truth be told, statecraft was not Dat’s strength. That honour would have been attributed to her elder brother, had Dat not killed him while fighting for their father’s throne. Research had always been her true passion, and it was the foundation of her power.

Already five times the age her father had been when he drew his final breath, Dat had come to face several hard truths. Chief among which was her mediocre talent for Cultivation. Even by consuming Elixirs, she would only have another fifty or sixty years before mortality would begin eroding her strength.

While research into advanced Techniques was a given, the primary focus of Dat’s research efforts lay in the alternative pursuit of immortality. Specifically, developing a vessel possessing a favourable Bloodline and Affinities.

Dat had acquired the necessary foundations for the soul transfer Technique after plundering the vaults of another Monarch years earlier. Technically, using the Technique would render her functionally immortal, hopping from body to body to avoid the degradation of old age. However, the problem lay in securing hosts that would foster and improve Dat’s capabilities rather than just maintaining them.

Wherein lay the importance of her research.

Leaving the reception and interment of the slaves to her minions, Dat retreated to her inner sanctum within the palace.

A hazy mist bearing the scent of summer flowers permeated the air.

One of Dat’s early successes, the mist carried a respiratory poison that would kill an intruder within less than a minute of exposure. Assuming, of course, that their Cultivation was below the fifth rank. Even those above the fifth rank would need to consume rare and valuable medicines and then cycle their Chi to stave off death, leaving them vulnerable to the attacks of Dat’s servants.

Of course, none of her servants were Cultivators. The risk of their betrayal was far too great to accept.

Dat had found a more elegant solution that eliminated the risk of betrayal in its entirety.

It was something of a misconception that Tran Quang Dat, Demon of the Fog, and Supreme Matriarch of Poisons, relied entirely on poisons. In truth, Dat’s interpretation of poison extended far beyond the literal and rather limited definition. She was just as comfortable and proficient in producing and deploying drugs as well.

It was through her pharmaceutical expertise that Dat ensured the loyalty of her servants, and a host of well-placed spies besides. Without regularly ingesting the antidote, the lungs and heart of the subject would rapidly deteriorate. If necessary, Dat also had the means to trigger the deterioration by exposing the subject to an airborne catalyst.

Knowing better than to catch her eye, servants flitted about in the mist, seeing to their duties in near complete silence.

Descending an immaculate stone staircase, Dat lowered her veil in advance to ward off the unspeakable stench of decay that awaited her within the confines of her laboratory. Tying the veil in place with one hand, she manipulated a complex pattern within a sliding puzzle to unlock the door.

It was a simple mechanism and could be solved by a child, but the mechanism itself was not intended to stop an intruder.

Cycling her Chi just long enough to confirm that her immunity against the poison painted on the tiles of the puzzle still held, Dat continued through the passage beyond.

Nearing the end of the passage, Dat was met with another door and a second puzzle.

She passed through five such traps in all before reaching the outermost limits of her laboratory. Compelled by internal mechanisms, the doors had sealed themselves in her wake, denying potential spies entry.

Skirting the periphery of her laboratory, Dat made her way toward the receiving chamber where the gathered slaves would be held awaiting her arrival.

Passing through the outermost holding cells, Dat looked upon her failures with scorn and open disdain.

Unlike most Affinities, the human body was not naturally equipped to accept the more inherently dangerous Affinities. In particular, the Poison Affinity had proven nearly as lethal as the aptly named Death Affinity.

In the earliest years of Dat’s research, the test subjects had died within seconds. Screaming their throats bloody and foaming at the mouth as the Poison Affinity blackened their veins and shut down their internal organs.

Of course, Dat had made several noteworthy leaps in her research since then.

The progress had been made somewhat accidentally while pursuing her research into Bloodlines.

Grafting the internal organs of beasts into test subjects before feeding them the experimental Affinity pills reduced the fatality rate from one hundred per cent to close to one hundred per cent. Of course, the grafting procedures exacted a toll as well, but practice and meticulous record-keeping had reduced fatalities considerably in that regard.

All the same, the survivors of her experiments were loathsome to behold, a true affront to the senses.

Warped and twisted by the beast organs and experimental Affinity pills, the surviving test subjects were more beast than human. Bearing only the faintest trace of lingering humanity.

Of course, some were less grotesque than others. A handful could even pass for a human, in the right light.

Naturally, the test subjects shied away from her presence, seeking out the darkest shadows their cages could afford.

Such fear gave Dat a small thrill of amusement. Should she wish them dead, they would have long since died already. Their continued existence served a deeper and more fulfilling purpose. Most provided living examples of extended graft failure and its associated symptoms. Allowing Dat to develop medicines to delay or reverse the breakdown and rejection.

The others served as living incubators, storing the organs Dat intended to graft into future subjects. Through trial and error, she had discovered certain subjects were more resilient to the grafting process than others. Furthermore, a select few were also capable of adapting the grafted limbs and organs into their bodies.

Organs, limbs, hair and even skin harvested from these subjects were invaluable for Dat’s ongoing research into developing a vessel with a powerful Bloodline and the Poison Affinity. Although she sincerely doubted the wretches would appreciate the relative mercies she extended them when compared to the sorry state of the others.

Not that it mattered. Dat had long since lost count of how many subjects had expired within the dark expanse of her laboratory. There were records, but it would require a substantial amount of time to tally the total from the diaspora of sources. Dat simply lacked the motivation and cause to discover the answer.

Pulling a lever on the wall, Dat took great care when grasping the rod of the mechanism, to avoid the hundreds of small needles that would have otherwise injected lethal neuro-toxins into her bloodstream.

Sometimes, when it amused her, Dat would order one of her assistants to open the door. More often than not, it would result in the fool collapsing to the ground in a shivering heap. It was a means of weeding out the dull and clumsy, as well as reminding the remainder of the consequences of earning her ire.

As the large door ascended to the ceiling, Dat’s assistants and servants began corraling the shackled slaves over the threshold and toward the cages that would serve as their new home.

“One-thousand and forty-two slaves. Just as the Black Viper clan’s Patriarch promised, Supreme Matriarch,” one of her nervous assistants announced with his head bowed and gaze firmly locked on the floor.

“This is...sufficient,” Dat replied without addressing the assistant directly. “For now...”

The assistant retreated and joined the others, driving the slaves toward the waiting cages.

Banishing the servants, Dat sealed the massive door and then began slowly making her way toward another staircase. Descending into the depths, she passed through several dozen more trapped hallways and gateways.

Crossing the threshold into her innermost sanctum, Dat made a point of reviewing the integrity of the life-sustaining Array that encapsulated the chamber. Satisfied, she approached the stone table in the centre of the chamber and meticulously inspected the bindings of the prime test subject.

Bearing the same markings as the life-sustaining Array, the bindings drained Chi from their host to power the Array. Provided the Array was given a small boost from time to time, the prime test subject would be able to survive nearly indefinitely without the need for food or drink. Of course, it would do nothing to stop the feelings and primal desire for such mortal necessities, but that was hardly Dat’s concern.

The prime test subject represented the culmination of Dat’s work thus far. Possessing both the Poison and Water Affinities as well as a Vipers Veins Bloodline. Were it not for the accompanying side effects, she would have considered the prime test subject a success. However, Dat would never consider such a heinous abomination as a viable option.

Studying the prime test subject's body for signs of change, Dat had to fight hard to suppress her disgust.

Clothed only in thin undergarments, the young woman’s body was incredibly pale. The dark jade veins just beneath her skin might have been considered beautiful, were it not for the large reptilian right arm grafted to her right shoulder.

Almost a match for the young woman’s height, the knuckles on the clawed hand would drag along the ground. Provided the prime test subject was ever permitted to leave the table, of course.

The serpentine tail grafted to the young woman’s spine would not have been entirely without its charms, assuming it was presented with the right emphasis and given the correct care. The same could be said for the slitted pupil of the young woman’s right eye and the scattering of white-jade scales on her cheek and brow.

So Dat found it all the more unfortunate that the collective contributions to the prime test subject’s appearance were so fundamentally revolting. Made all the more so by the hundreds of scars littering her chest and abdomen.

Stirring from her drug-induced stupor, the prime test subject bucked and grunted in fear. Heaving for breath past the leather gag that prevented her from biting down on her long forked tongue.

The reaction only intensified Dat’s revulsion and she had to resist the urge to put the creature out of its misery. “Not yet Thirteen,” she chided with a predatory smile. “There is still much more I can learn from you.”

Tears streamed down the prime test subject’s left cheek and she tried to shake her head but managed little more than a shudder, held firmly in place by her restraints.

“This is why you will never amount to anything, much less become a Monarch!” Dat spat in disgust. “Perhaps your next sister will prove more deserving of her heritage!” The thought that Thirteen, and her twelve predecessors, had shared her blood, had been carried within her womb, disappointed Dat on a level she could not begin to articulate.

Reining in her anger, Dat retrieved her ledger and began taking notes on Thirteen’s progress. Once she was finished, she debated and considered the potential effects of additional grafts.

From what Dat had learned thus far, there was a limit to how many grafts a host could support before succumbing to systemic organ failure. Most of Thirteen’s siblings had only managed five grafts. Eleven, who had only died earlier that year, had survived with eighteen grafts. But hadn’t gained an Affinity or a Bloodline. Making her survival noteworthy, but ultimately useless for Dat’s purposes.

However, Eleven and Thirteen’s shared tolerance for the procedures did suggest that their sire was a valuable contributor to Dat’s future research. Which was somewhat aggravating, given he was the grandson of the Pale Crocodile clan Patriarch.

Seducing the fool while disguised as a servant girl had worked easily enough in the past. But he was now married and his wife was rarely away from his side for long.

Assassinating the wife wouldn’t be difficult, and neither would placing the blame on one of the other clans. The problem lay in what would happen to the Pale Crocodile Patriarch’s grandson. Clan wars were notoriously unpredictable.

Every clan had their secrets and dedicated kill teams for dispatching noteworthy members of enemy clans. Even the weakest clans had caches of ancient weaponry that held the potential to slay Cultivators of considerably higher Rank.

Dat decided she would need to give the matter greater thought.

Abandoning Thirteen to the darkness, Dat left to inspect the newly arrived materials in greater detail.

While retreating to the holding cells, Dat was drawn from her thoughts as a notification informed her of a Supremacy Challenge issued by another Monarch.

“Exalted Admiral?” Dat drawled derisively, trying and failing to place a face to the name. Given she had a considerably greater ranking score, Dat presumed the self-named Exalted Admiral was one of the many Monarchs she had pillaged in decades past. It made no sense for a Monarch to declare a Supremacy Challenge with the ranking and implied difference in their strength otherwise.

Never one to pass up the opportunity for more materials, Dat couldn’t help but consider how best to reap the benefits from the unexpected bounty.

As the challenged party, Tran Quang Dat was free to choose the scale of their conflict.

In years past, Dat had favoured smaller more intimate conflicts, limiting the involvement to no more than five participants on either side. However, after several close encounters that nearly cost Dat her life, she had adopted a more practical approach.

Leaving the battle to be fought solely by subordinates was out of the question. There was too much at stake and too much that could go wrong. Besides, Tran Quang Dat had no direct subordinates qualified to fill the necessary roles.

Of course, if Dat was going to supervise events in person, she had the means to produce formidable, if temporary, Cultivators to serve as her support.

A special cocktail of combat drugs and Elixirs could transform even the weakest of her otherwise mundane servants into a frothing berserker capable of killing Cultivators of up to the sixth rank in a fair fight. Assuming the Cultivators were foolish enough to fight them head-on and the engagement didn’t drag on overly long.

The combined effects of the drugs were, of course, lethal. So the key was deploying the berserkers where and when they could achieve the most damage.

Settling into her throne, Dat pulled on a silk cord to her right and a mournful chorus of bells tolled throughout her palace.

Within a minute, three hundred men and women in black robes and faces concealed behind thick grey veils prostrated themselves on the throne room floor.

“One through Thirty of the combat division, you have been afforded the honour to serve as my vanguard against the forces of another Monarch.” Tran Quang Dat allowed a few moments for that news to sink in. “So long as you serve with distinction, the standard rewards for your families will be honoured.”

There was the faintest stir amongst the ranks of the servants. As well there should be.

The servants were forbidden to marry and Dat had taken steps to render them incapable of bearing and siring children. However, Supremacy Challenges presented a unique opportunity for creating a familial legacy.

As a standing rule, Tran Quang Dat made a point of gathering the extended relatives of the expired servants and elevating them into a new minor clan. Even going so far as to sponsor their development for several years based on how well the servants had performed their duties. Placing a large portion of the newly acquired territories under their rule.

Their relatives would never be told why the Supreme Matriarch had shown them favour. It would only complicate matters politically. But her servants would know, and it lent them a degree of motivation that exceeded that of the most loyal clan guardians.

There would also be a certain degree of competition. The family of whichever servant made the most noteworthy contributions would be the ones placed in the position of primacy within the new clan and given the greatest degree of support.

Most of the servants would die during the challenge as a matter of course, but it wasn’t uncommon for the last ones standing to throw themselves collectively at even the weakest opponents. Just to guarantee that their families would not be overlooked and miss out on the opportunity for ascension.

Infighting was surprisingly rare. At least, deliberate infighting was. Disobeying Dat’s commands would disqualify them from accruing merits, after all. However, sometimes the drugs proved too effective, and the hypno-indoctrinations were overwhelmed by pure emotion.

Not that it particularly mattered. Dat always ensured she was well out of harm's way, and the spectacle tended to throw the enemy off balance. Allowing her to exploit that distraction and typically come out ahead in the overall exchange.

The majority of the servants flooded out of the throne room in near silence, leaving those who had been chosen.

“You will arm yourselves with rank six equipment from the armoury and accept a consignment of combat drugs upon your return,” Dat ordered, dismissing her servants with a wave.

In their absence, Dat conjured a table and the aforementioned combat drugs from one of her Storage Rings. Each portion was stored in a wooden box bearing the label corresponding to the specific combination of drugs and Elixirs that would determine the minor specialisation of whoever consumed them.

There were limits to how far the human body could be pushed. So Dat had made certain concessions to ensure a more balanced fighting force.

Just because Dat planned on poisoning the enemy to death from afar, did not mean she was stupid enough to believe a Cultivator wouldn’t last long enough to be a threat. Especially if this Monarch was already familiar with her methods of engagement.

To that end, Dat would have ten hulks, specialised in soaking damage and drawing attention while pinning down their targets. Ten vipers, with enhanced speed and reflexes, intended to make the most of the opportunities afforded by the hulks. And ten skulkers, falling somewhere in the middle ground between the hulks and vipers, intended as an interceptor to counter any concerted counterattacks.

Dat’s servants returned a short while later, bearing identical armour but an otherwise respectable variety of weapons. Without being told, they each gravitated toward the package of drugs that best suited their capabilities. No doubt having discussed the possibilities while donning their armour.

Withdrawing and effortlessly donning her armour from her Storage Ring, Dat surveyed her servants with an imperious glare. “You will now consume your Elixirs,” she commanded.

The servants obediently withdrew the aforementioned Elixirs and silently did as they were instructed. While they were not Cultivators, Dat’s combat servants were all well instructed in the necessary breathing and circulation Techniques to make the most of the Elixirs and combat drugs.

Technically, after consuming the Elixirs, there was no true difference between them and novitiate Cultivators. However, Dat had made a point of ensuring her servants never entertained such notions themselves. That would encourage dangerous trains of thought Dat didn’t approve of.

“Administer antidotes one, five and six,” Dat ordered, conjuring a small number of pills into her mouth and swallowing them to guarantee immunity from her intended opening salvo of attacks.

While her servants obeyed her commands, Dat began gathering her Chi and withdrew a large cloudy glass bottle full of milky white liquid from her Storage Ring.

“I accept the challenge,” Dat stated calmly, grinning with anticipation behind her armoured veil.

The throne room disappeared and was replaced by the entirely unexpected sight of a fog-laden swamp.

Momentarily thrown off-balance by her enemy’s choice in battleground, especially given his ranking title, Dat had to begin her Technique from scratch to prevent a suboptimal dispersal.

Worried that the enemy would attempt a lightning raid, she mentally commanded nine of her servants to initiate their respective transformations.

As the poisonous fog billowed out of the bottle and spread across the acrid water and boggy swampland, Dat extended her senses and sought out the approaching forces of her rival Monarch.

And found nothing.

Confused, Dat extended her senses further. Minutes passed in near silence, broken only by the deep ragged breathing of the hulks and muted panting of the vipers.

After several minutes of searching, Dat found the rival Monarch and their forces. They were retreating, at great speed. No doubt having anticipated Dat’s preemptive attack. Not that it would do them any good. The poisonous fog would encompass the entire territory within the hour, sooner if Dat was left to her own devices.

No longer worried, Dat thanked the heavens for her good fortune. It appeared she would be allowed to claim this Monarch’s territories and resources without a real fight, and more importantly, without risk to her person.

As the minutes passed slowly by, Dat had time to better consider the enemy’s choice in terrain.

There was a chance that the other Monarch had hoped the native fog would somehow dilute or counter her poison. However, the more Dat considered this possibility, the more inclined she was to disregard it. Cultivators were arrogant to a fault, and Monarchs were even more so, but they weren’t that stupid.

Dat became convinced that there was something about the swamp that she had not considered, something important.

There were no beasts and the local resources were all thoroughly mundane.

Several death notifications abruptly broke Dat’s train of thought.

Confused, she glanced warily at the servants around her. Confirming that they were all accounted for only made things worse.

With the knowledge that the slain servants were located back within her realm, Dat had to fight hard to suppress her fury.

Who would dare?!

Her eyes locked onto the names of the killers. Or rather, killer.

Gric.

Fifteen of her servants had died in the span of a few seconds and more were joining them with each passing moment.

Resisting the temptation to prematurely attack the Grand Admiral’s forces so she could return to her realm, Dat reminded herself that her countermeasures would prevent the invader from doing irreversible damage.

Servants could be replaced.

Another string of death notifications streamed through her peripheral vision and Dat’s left eye twitched with barely suppressed rage.

Her servants could be replaced, but the thought of the invader doing as they willed within HER realm was positively galling.

<Supreme Matriarch!> The terrified voice of one of her assistants transmitted through her right earring and directly into Dat’s mind. <There is an intruder in the palace! They have broken into the labo-> The assistant’s voice was abruptly cut off. The connection was severed and a new death notification appeared in front of Dat’s eyes.

Dat felt a deep chill take hold in her gut.

Her earring was linked directly to a talisman within her laboratory. Combined with the final frantic words of her now-deceased assistant, it was now clear that the invader was a genuine threat.

“We are going on the offensive!” Dat snarled, “Administer a full dose!”

Obeying her command without question, Dat’s servants downed the lethal dose of combat drugs and screamed as their bodies were reforged for their deadly purpose.

“Kill them all!” She commanded, pointing in the direction of the fleeing Monarch.

The hulks and vipers raced off into the fog, leaving the skulkers to serve as her protection. Unlike the others, the skulkers wouldn’t compromise her safety without explicit and individually assigned instructions to do so.

A ragged howl sounded from one of the hulks and Dat’s eyes grew wide in surprise.

A new death notification appeared before her eyes, announcing the hulk’s death.

Barely more than a hundred feet from her current position, Dat could hear a frantic battle taking place within the fog. However, her focus remained fixed on the death notification. Specifically the name of the hulk’s killer.

Gric.

“Impossible...” Dat muttered stiffly. It had to be some sort of trick, a gambit deliberately intended to throw her off balance.

Taking several calming breaths, Dat extended her senses so she could assess the enemy’s capabilities.

A fresh wave of unease settled in her bowels.

The enemy had completely hidden their inner energy and Chi, rendering them close to invisible. Were it not for the Chi-laden fog, Dat wouldn’t have been able to locate them at all.

Assassin. The Grand Admiral had brought a heavens damned assassin!

Another hulk died and was quickly followed by a pair of vipers.

The severed head of a hulk tumbled unceremoniously through the fog, landing at Dat’s feet. The several links of vertebrae trailing from the ragged stump of the hulk’s neck came as a surprise. Dat had expected an injury more in line with a blade, so it took her a few moments to mentally adjust her frame of reference and identify the weapon responsible.

The assassin was fighting barehanded.

Exclusively unarmed Cultivators were beyond rare. Most notably because of the time that was spent training the required external Techniques was time rivals spent surpassing them. Furthermore, unless the external Techniques were mastered, they couldn’t compare to the readily available protection and strength afforded by low-ranked armour and weapons.

However, that same weakness could also be a strength. A master of unarmed Techniques didn’t need armour and weapons to be an effective combatant. In many cases making them faster and far more unpredictable in the process.

Dat barely leapt to the side in time to avoid taking a spear to the back. Raising her sword defensively, she watched in stunned silence as two skulkers turned on one of their own, hacking and stabbing at the rogue in their midst even as the rogue thrust its spear at Dat’s face.

Deflecting the strike, Dat gathered her Chi and threw a large steel needle into the rogue skulker’s face, striking him in the eye.

The rogue skulker collapsed almost immediately and was summarily hewn apart.

No sooner had the skulkers dealt with the rogue, than two more turned on their fellows with just as little warning as the first.

Recognising the danger she was in, Dat attempted to locate the source of the enemy's influence on the minds of her servants and came up empty. There was no puppeteer controlling their actions. Which left a disturbingly finite number of possibilities.

Chief amongst which was someone who had altered the hypno-indoctrination of her servants without Dat noticing, and marked her as their enemy. Her fears were quickly proven correct as the skulkers ceased attacking one another and rounded on her in silent unison.

Quenching her fear with cold calculating anger, Dat conjured a glass orb from her Storage Ring and cast it against the ground.

The closest skulker only managed two steps before vomiting a torrent of blood and collapsing to the ground. The other skulkers followed shortly after.

Extending her senses, Dat took a small degree of reassurance that the remaining hulks and vipers were still alive and fighting against the assassin. Withdrawing a pair of vials bearing meticulously noted warning labels, Dat steeled herself for direct confrontation and began stalking toward her enemy.

Moving silently through the fog, Dat got her first look at her would-be assassin.

Head and shoulders taller than the augmented bodies of the hulks, the assassin's exquisitely chiselled muscles were covered with fine jade-green scales. Naked except for a blood-spattered breechcloth, the assassin bore several shallow wounds but paid them no mind, shrugging off an axe blow to the gut and delivering a vicious backhand that ripped a viper’s jaw clean off its head.

Hardened claws on the end of the assassin's fingers knocked aside swords and spears with almost comical ease and the assassin’s acid-green eyes flashed with predatory exaltation.

Stunned by the assassin’s strange appearance, it took her a few moments to notice the three black horns protruding from the assassin’s brow.

Dat nearly surrendered on the spot.

DEMON!

As if sensing Dat’s presence, the demon ripped the jugular from the last remaining hulk and stared directly at her. Taking several glancing blows from the surviving vipers in the process. Not that the demon appeared to mind in the slightest.

Paying no thought to what would become of her servants, Dat threw the glass vials for all she was worth.

Standing perfectly still, the demon made no attempts to dodge.

The glass vials struck the demon’s chest in rapid succession.

The vipers collapsed, spasming and seizing in the bog.

The demon’s chest began to smoulder, but he still appeared unphased.

Dat withdrew more vials from her Storage Ring and cast them at the demon, reinforcing her body with the Swaying Adder Body Reinforcement Technique to enhance her natural flexibility and dexterity. One after another, Dat continued the assault, pitching vials of her deadliest poisons and debilitating drugs at the demon, paying no heed to the expense she would face to replace them.

If the demon wasn’t dead, or at least severely crippled by the time her ring was empty, Dat was resolved to surrender. Half her realm be damned.

As the smoke and fog began to shift, Dat felt a profound sense of relief. Blistered, burned and melting like a wax candle, the demon’s internal organs were hanging from its open chest cavity and abdomen. However, as the demon's face was revealed anew, Dat felt a primal surge of terror.

Even in its compromised state, the demon was still smiling at her, utterly unphased by the trauma of its physical form.

Before Dat could think to run, the demon disappeared.

At her wit's end, Dat cast out her senses in a desperate bid to locate where it had gone.

After several tense minutes, Dat realised that the Demon was just gone. Warily inspecting the Demon’s last occupied position, she briefly entertained the idea that she had somehow managed to kill it. A few seconds of reviewing her notifications dispelled that thought in its entirety.

The demon hadn’t died, but Dat couldn’t see any signs of its remnants either.

Giving the matter a great deal of thought, Dat arrived at an unlikely answer that would explain what had happened. The Grand Admiral, or one of the Monarch’s minions, had conjured the demon through some forbidden ritual, and once it had taken a certain amount of damage, it had simply ceased to exist.

As immensely unsettling as it was, Dat had to believe it was true. The alternatives were far too disturbing otherwise.

Her relief was short-lived.

It didn’t take Dat long to realise she was now heavily outnumbered and critically low on supplies. There was still a good chance that she could eke out a pyrrhic victory. At worst, Dat was willing to declare an outright surrender, but she wanted to explore her options first before accepting such a massive loss.

Whatever damage had been done in her absence, there was no undoing it now. Furthermore, if a second demon was responsible, Dat had all the more reason to drag out her inevitable return.

If the demon was summoned by a ritual and running on borrowed power, Dat would much rather it disappeared without the need for a direct confrontation.

Committed to drawing out the challenge, Dat withdrew a portable defence formation, activated it and took shelter within. Consuming an Elixir to restore her Chi and take the edge off of her nerves, Dat renewed her efforts in expanding the reach of the poisonous fog.

Hours passed in tense silence and Dat grew increasingly pessimistic about her chances of seizing victory from the jaws of defeat. Her mood only grew worse as she detected the presence of the enemy Monarch growing closer.

Suppressing the urge to curse, Dat held out little hope that her enemy was sufficiently weakened by the poison for a traditional confrontation to end in her favour. The defensive Array would afford a certain measure of protection and advantage, but if her enemy was a skilled fighter, the Array wouldn’t make much of a difference.

Dat did find it odd that the Monarch had left their subordinates behind and could only assume that they were either entrenched within a defensive Array of their own or awaiting some form of signal to begin their attack.

Dat was forced to abandon the last of her hopes when the Grand Admiral strode confidently out of the fog, seemingly unaffected by the poison that surrounded them. Concealed beneath his azure brigandine and enclosed helmet, the Grand Admiral stalked toward Dat with his sword drawn and aura of murderous intent.

“Am I to understand you would not be willing to negotiate?” Dat asked resignedly, buying time while scanning her rival for potential signs of weakness.

“I will kill you! Foul witch!” The Grand Admiral hissed angrily and stopped just shy of crossing the boundary of the Array.

More or less the response Dat had expected, she decided to make an offer on the off chance her rival might be tempted to see reason. “Surely, whatever grievance exists between us could be settled by the exchange of ten territories.” Dat would be only too willing to palm off some of the more troublesome clans if it would guarantee her life and prevent further losses.

“Neither land nor treasure will deter me from my righteous vengeance!” The Grand Admiral took a probing swipe at the barrier created by the Array.

The wooden panels that formed the boundary of the Array rattled but otherwise held firm.

“You dare speak of righteousness?!” Dat sneered contemptuously. “You consort with demons, and you dare to stand in judgement of me?!” Far from indignant, she was hoping that her rival was sufficiently off balance to reveal how he had managed to contact and control the demon in the first place.

Much to Dat’s profound disappointment, her rival remained silent and retreated to the edge of her visibility. Removing what appeared to be a thick stone rod from his Storage Ring, the Grand Admiral tossed the rod through the air and toward Dat’s array.

Confused, Dat braced herself and prepared for the worst.

The rod exploded, collapsing Dat’s defensive Array and knocking her off her feet with the raw concussive force of the blast.

Half deaf and gasping for breath, Dat had barely managed to crawl to her knees before recognising the imminent threat to her life.

Rolling to the side, Dat narrowly avoided the tip of the Grand Admiral’s blade only to nearly have her legs seized by tendrils of brackish swamp water that were grasping for her ankles.

Conjuring a pair of poisoned needles from her Storage Ring and throwing them toward the visor of her enemy’s helmet in the same motion, Dat didn’t have time to confirm whether her attack found its mark before she had to backflip to avoid a trio of spears formed from the nearby body of water.

Drawing the whip from her hip, Dat used her established momentum and lashed the barbed tails around the Grand Admiral’s left hand and pulled with all her might.

As she had hoped, the Grand Admiral’s gauntlet was pulled free of his hand and the barbs of her whip left bloody streaks in his exposed flesh.

Ignoring the wound, the Grand Admiral caught Dat’s whip and nearly dislocated her shoulder as he used his leverage to yank the whip’s handle from her grasp.

Trying not to show weakness as she gasped in pain, Dat threw several more needles in rapid succession, aiming at the Grand Admiral’s exposed hand and hoping volume would compensate for her compromised accuracy as she retreated.

“MY VENGEANCE WILL NOT BE DENIED!!!” The Grand Admiral roared.

Dat looked over her injured shoulder just in time to witness an oncoming tsunami of poisoned swamp water crashing down above and behind her. Lacking a counter to the Technique, Dat had little choice but to brace herself and take the hit, hoping that the poisoned needles and whip would exact a worthwhile toll in exchange.

Carried by the momentum of the waves, Dat was slammed into several trees before she managed to claw her way to freedom.

Badly battered and suspecting she had several broken ribs, Dat was just about ready to call it quits.

Seeing the Grand Admiral preparing another tsunami and showing no signs of keeling over from the toxins she had injected into his body, Dat decided it was time to cut her losses.

Dat desperately backpedalled on her hands and feet to buy herself enough time. Gritting her teeth against the pain of her battered body. “I...I forfeit!” Dat hissed bitterly.

Just like that, half of her realm’s territories were lost and Dat was returned to her throne.

Were it not for the corpses littering the floor, the throne room would have been just as she had left it.

The demon had shown no mercy and had ripped her servants limb from bloody limb.

Stiffly rising from her throne, Dat sought out the hidden cache of pills stored within the false backing of her throne. Opening the secret compartment, Dat cast all pride to the wind. She stuffed the handful of pills into her mouth and swallowed them all in one ill-advised gulp.

Coughing dryly as the pills caught in her throat, Dat whimpered in pain as the spasms brought fresh waves of agony from her broken ribs.

Someone struck her hard on the back, forcibly ejecting the pills from her throat.

Surprised that any of her servants had survived, Dat was almost ready to offer their family a reward for the timely intervention. Then she remembered having thoroughly reviewed the list of death notifications.

Too afraid to look, Dat couldn’t help but whimper in terror.

“I knew you would run,” the demon stated with vindication and amusement in equal measure. “No one does what your kind does and stands their ground.”

Claws like hardened steel seized the back of Dat’s neck and she was dragged back around her throne before being cast to the floor.

“It is a weakness you all share, after all,” the demon continued, snorting with disgust. “There is no sacrifice too great, no bond too sacred, not when faced with the power you crave...Just so long as someone else pays that price on your behalf...”

“Whatever...you...want...” Dat gasped, fighting hard to speak through the pain. “I...will....give...Just...let...me...”

“No,” the demon replied flatly, circling her and then kneeling so she could see the look of utter contempt on his face. “That is not how this works.” He reached out and calmly took hold of her right shoulder, pauldron and all. With one smooth jerk which seemingly took no effort at all, the demon tore off her arm.

Dat screamed.

“You deserve worse,” the demon stated coldly. “Much worse.” he used her severed arm to slap her across the face. “I can only hope he will be as accommodating.”

Through the shock and pain, Dat became aware of the yawning black abyss opening behind the demon’s back. “I think it’s time we found out.”

***** Tim ~ Tim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Sanctuary *****

Woken from my dreamless slumber my vision was dominated by a gold-bordered notification that was ten shades too bright for my sunlight-deprived brain to handle.

[ The former {Monarch} {Thirteen} has willingly relinquished their sovereignty and sworn fealty to {Tim}! ]

[ The former {Monarch} {Thirteen} has become {Tim’s} {Vassal}! ]

I read through the notifications several times before the contents finally began to stick.

Doing my best to ignore my throbbing migraine, I accidentally sent Pete, Suzy and Homoko tumbling to the floor. I hadn’t realised the three of them were lying on my chest and stomach until it was too late.

“Daddy!” Suzy bounced back almost immediately, not in the least bit put out by the sudden tumble.

“Hey Suzy,” I tussled her hair and then gave her chubby chin a tickle for good measure. “Sorry for waking you up.” I directed the last more toward Pete and Homoko who both looked as tired as I felt.

Pete shrugged good-naturedly and climbed back into bed.

“T’sokay,” Homoko yawned, tiredly slurring her words and giving me quite a shock as I realised just how much she had grown. “S’magic...” She mumbled dismissively and made a half-hearted wave of her hand before following Pete’s lead and collapsing face-first into the pillow.

“Play now?” Suzy suggested hopefully.

“Suzy I-” I made the mistake of looking her in the eye and couldn’t bring myself to say no. “I need to do something first, okay?”

“Kay!” Suzy agreed, surprising me with her unexpected maturity. It felt like just yesterday she would have behaved like a kicked puppy if I didn’t drop everything at a moment's notice. Not that I was complaining. “Toofy play too?!” It wasn’t so much a question as a frantic demand. She pointed toward our dining table where Toofy was loudly snoring while also gnawing at a large piece of jerky.

Of course, where there was Toofy...

My eyes were immediately drawn to the pale mass of white scales beneath the table.

Ever since my confrontation with Ril, I had found her presence to be profoundly unsettling. As weird as it was to acclimate to real monsters, there was a disturbing weight to her gaze that I just couldn’t ignore anymore.

“Maybe later,” I hedged, “Auntie Toofy is sleeping.”

Suzy considered Toofy for a few moments, eyed one of her favourite glowing-moss stuffed balls for a suspiciously long few moments, then groaned exasperatedly and slumped backwards onto the bed. “Kay...”

Before I could properly appreciate Suzy’s exaggerated angst, I felt Gric trying to make contact within my mind.

<Your obligation to our ally, Yi Gim, has been fulfilled, my Tyrant.> Gric announced proudly.

<Yi Gim’s rival is dead?> I asked, wanting to make sure I understood the situation correctly.

<Indeed!> Gric seemed positively brimming with pride. As well he might, given what he may have been through. <As agreed, Yi Gim->

<Who is Thirteen?> I interrupted, far more interested in learning who this stranger was and why I was now responsible for their realm.

<Ah...> Gric suddenly seemed to feel quite embarrassed. <Infinite apologies, my Tyrant. I had simply followed what I believed to be best...> He hedged ashamedly. <I had not anticipated these particular consequences...>

<Gric...> The migraine made it difficult, but I made sure not to lose my temper. <Who is she?>

A profound sense of resignation echoed through our connection. <Thirteen is slain Monarch’s daughter and sole heir...> Gric explained quietly. <She has sworn the oaths...> He added somewhat hopefully.

<That...> I sighed and massaged my temples. <I had kind of assumed, but that is a genuine relief to have confirmed. But did you know her identity before you brought her here?>

<Yes, I did...> Gric replied honestly, not even hesitating for a second. <However, she swore the oaths before I allowed her through the Breach...>

<Why did you recruit her at all?> I asked, still confused as to why Gric had done all of this.

<Because it was the right thing to do.> Gric replied firmly, all self-doubt banished from his projected thoughts. <And...And because she deserves the peace you can offer, my Tyrant.> There was almost a hint of a challenge in his tone, making it clear this was a hill he would die upon if necessary.

Surprised by Gric’s conviction, it only confirmed that I needed to meet this person for myself. This was unfortunate because I had already promised to spend time with Suzy and I really didn’t want to square up against another Monarch while feeling like thrice hammered shit.

Plans for the holidays.

Sorry for the later than usual upload. For anyone not on the discord, I was getting wrecked by hayfever.

I am planning on taking this current week off to deal with my allergy problem and prepare for the coming holidays. I will be back to posting on the 16th ish and will continue through the holidays and new years.

I have a host of concept art planned for imminent release. So keep an eye out for that :P
If you really want to see a certain character, let me know and I'll see what Elynelle can come up with. I think she's done amazing work so far.
If you have any fanart,  I would love to pin and post that too hehe :P

Happy holidays!

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 77 - Fear the Reaper - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 77 - Fear the Reaper - Two

Confused, I stared back at the small girl while trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“How...How do you know my name?” I asked warily, struggling to justify the strangeness of everything that had happened up until this point.

“Because you don’t belong here,” the pale-skinned girl repeated condescendingly. “This is nothing more than a twisted memory.”

“A memory?” I repeated, feeling an undeniable element of truth in the words as I spoke them aloud.

“A TWISTED memory,” the girl corrected irritably. “Someone is taking advantage of your weakened state to try and do...something...” She looked toward the shore and stared at the young woman in the business suit. “Or maybe...Maybe it wasn't twisted at all...”

“I don’t understand...” I admitted somewhat hesitantly.

“I would ask what you remember, but that would be a wasted effort,” the girl commented dismissively. “Now, be quiet and let me concentrate.”

Still confused and uncertain of what I should do, I shifted uncomfortably in the surf. I hadn’t been spoken to so forcefully by a child in over a decade. Even then, it hadn’t amounted to more than proclaiming I was a ‘poop head’.

“Strange...” The small deathly pale girl muttered and hissed irritably between her teeth. “I can’t sense any signs of tampering...”

The familiar siren of an ambulance drew my focus from the small girl and toward the shore. Flashing red and blue lights cascaded down the scraggly face of the dunes and illuminated a pair of well-built EMTs rushing toward the beach and...

I felt an intense sense of vertigo and nearly collapsed into the surf.

The young woman who had followed me to the beach was waving her arms at the approaching EMTs, phone in hand and frantically pointing to the form of a second small girl lying in the sand at her feet.

Except it wasn’t another girl.

I glanced to the side and was surprised to find that the girl was still there despite clearly...

I felt another wave of vertigo, only this time, I collapsed into the water. Soaking my clothes and momentarily stunning me into inaction as the ice-cold water seized at my nethers.

Gasping in shock I scrambled to draw myself upright again. All the while staring at my doppelganger on the beach.

“She isn’t breathing!” My other self called out in a panic, kneeling at the girl’s side and drawing his hands from her chest,  “She was out in the water and...Oh god...”

“I...” I looked down at my hands and felt a wave of nausea begin to build in my gut. My hands had begun to shake violently and I couldn’t stop it. Acidic bile rose in my throat and I vomited into the waves rushing past my thighs.

Pressing my hands under my arms, I watched in stunned silence as the EMTs performed emergency CPR for several minutes, and then stopped.

Police arrived a short while afterwards, detaining my other self and asking questions I was too far away to hear. Even without hearing the words, I could tell by the hard look in their eyes that they assumed the worst. Assumed that my other self had been directly involved in the girl’s drowning.

To my immense surprise, the young woman who had followed me to the beach appeared to be arguing with the police, and against my expectations, seemed to change their minds.

The hard eyes of the officers became indifferent or sympathetic, and after a second round of questioning, my other self was left alone.

Rising to his feet, my other self retrieved my bag from where I had cast it aside and began retreating up the dunes.

As my other self turned his back, the officers, EMTs, the young woman and even the body of the small girl disappeared. The beach persisted through the disappearances, taking on a serene yet cold ambience.

“This is...” The pale girl cocked her head curiously to one side and slowly took in the beach. “This shouldn’t be possible...To persist despite your absence...” She turned to consider me, her eyes still concealed by the wet hair plastered to her face. “Gric has claimed this place belonged to your mother. Is this true?”

“It was my mother’s favourite place...” I replied numbly, trying and failing to process everything that had transpired. My eyes were drawn toward a grassy patch on the uppermost dunes. “It was where she died...” I added, almost as an afterthought.

“Oh...” The girl sounded embarrassed, even somewhat sympathetic.

“She made me take her here...Wanted to look out at the sea one last time...” I continued quietly. “After her funeral, I spread her ashes from the top of the dunes...”

A long silence passed between us, broken only by the rushing waves and distant rumble of thunder.

Looking away from the dunes, I realised the small girl was gone.

Feeling irreconcilably tired I closed my eyes and allowed the reassuring crash of the surf to clear my mind, surrendering myself to the ambient noises that had ingrained themselves in my soul since childhood.

***** Ril ~ ????? ~ ????? *****

Ril watched in silence as the manifestation of Tim’s subconscious faded and merged anew with the avatar of his memory.

Having lost the manifestation that allowed her to communicate directly with Tim’s subconscious, Ril had no choice but to follow his avatar in silence.

Tim’s world was more or less as she had expected. Ril had feasted on the souls of several Labyrinth Lords over the centuries. The most recent had been roughly four or maybe five decades earlier.

From what Ril could tell, very little had changed.

Tim walked alone through the empty streets. Any passersby who saw his approach abruptly decided they had taken a wrong turn and hastily moved to rectify their mistake. If Tim noticed, he made no sign of it.

Tim’s home was spacious but he had a way of making the open spaces appear cramped, barely passing between furniture without knocking them out of the way with his bulk.

Listlessly wandering from room to room, Tim eventually ascended a sturdy set of stairs to the second floor of the house and entered his room.

Just the same as the rest of the house, his room was sparsely furnished. However, the walls held unframed portraits of scantily clad muscular human females.

Some of the females were flexing their muscles. Others were engaging in what Ril could only assume was intended as exercise or competition.

Given Tim’s choice of mate, Ril decided that the portraits represented targets of unrequited romantic or lustful interest. Which made Tim’s despair all the more telling.

Despite staring at the wall opposite his bed, Tim wasn’t looking at the portraits of scantily clad females. He wasn’t looking at anything.

Hours passed in utter silence.

Tim hadn’t moved an inch or made a single sound.

He hadn’t noticed the two large human males skirting outside his house either. Which Ril found strange.

According to her prior experiences traversing the minds of lesser beings, a subject should not know about events outside of their perceived experiences as they originally experienced them. Yet Ril had seen the two males approach through the window behind him and was now following them outside of the house.

“In an’ out, real clean like,” the first male grunted quietly, withdrawing a hooked iron club from the inside of his coat and giving it a menacing heft.

“Gotcha,” the second male agreed, drawing a large knife from his coat in turn. “We’re just scaring him or?...” He left the remainder unspoken.

“Boss wants to know what he’s about,” the first male replied. “Wasn’t specific in how we go about it.”

The second male grinned excitedly, eager for violence.

“He’s a big fucker...” The first continued quietly as they arrived at the back door of the house. “So, he gets antsy, drop him.”

The second male nodded eagerly.

Testing the door, both they and Ril were surprised to find it wasn’t locked.

Entering through the back door, the two males slowly prowled through the house with their weapons at the ready.

Checking in on Tim, Ril found him still sitting on his bed and staring at the wall.

Ril could see the two males quietly ascending the stairs and came to a realisation.

This was how he had died. Wallowing in self-pity and despair, Tim had been murdered in his own home.

Except...

Ril considered Tim for several long moments and would have frowned if she had a body to do so.

Something still didn’t fit.

Every other Labyrinth Lord Ril had the displeasure to have known, had been a hardened killer. Some of them had been soldiers and had expressed regret over their actions. Others had been demented beyond reason, viewing their own Species as lower forms of life to be preyed upon. Tim was different...

He was...pathetic...

The sudden crash of breaking glass and ceramic drew Ril’s attention back toward the two invaders in the hall.

To Ril’s surprise, the noise caused Tim to stir as well.

Eerily silent for someone so large, Tim rose to his feet and left his room.

The invaders were headed toward a closed door down the opposite end of the hall and didn’t see his approach.

They didn’t see Tim look down at the small broken portrait of a smiling middle-aged female and a broken funerary urn.

They didn’t see the rage burning in his eyes.

Perhaps sensing the danger, the second male turned his head and caught sight of Tim looming over him. “OH FUCK!!!!” He yelped in fear and swung wildly at Time while trying to run away.

Ignoring the crimson gash across his chest, Tim grabbed the second male by the throat and squeezed.

There was a wet crunch, and like a puppet with severed strings, the second male grew limp and proceeded to void his bowels and bladder. Ril could tell that he wasn’t dead, at least, not yet.

Letting out a low dangerous growl, and still firmly holding the second male by the throat, Tim stalked toward the first.

Terrified, the first male dropped his club and fumbled for something at his back while retreating from Tim. “S-STAY BACK!” The terrified male squealed, his voice pleading rather than demanding Tim’s compliance.

The second male gurgled something unintelligible, choking on his own spit as Tim maintained his vice-like grip on his oesophagus.

Backing away toward the stairs, the first male drew a small strange weapon from behind his back, and it took Ril a few moments to identify it as one of the bizarre metal-spitting weapons the humans employed in this world. “I SAID STAY BACK!!!” The first male repeated, waving the weapon frantically in what he probably hoped was an intimidating fashion.

Tim stopped and appeared to consider the weapon for a moment. But only for a moment. Renewing his advance, Tim cast the second male over the railing and onto the floor below.

He landed with a second sickening crunch, and from her vantage, Ril could see that the man was dead. The side of his head had struck the corner of a small table, breaking the table and cracking the male’s skull.

The weapon in the first male’s hands barked several times in rapid succession, spitting metal from its muzzle and into Tim’s body.

Crimson patches began to spread across Tim’s chest and back, not that he paid them any mind.

Advancing on the remaining intruder, Tim grabbed the male by his shoulders and began to pull.

The male howled in pain and his shoulders and chest began making muted wet crunching sounds as Tim slowly but steadily ripped the male’s right arm out of its socket. To Ril’s surprise, Tim didn’t stop there and continued pulling, dislocating the other shoulder.

In his pain, the male dropped his weapon.

Tim didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and continued to draw the male’s arms in opposite directions.

With a wet ripping sound, the male’s right arm tore free from his torso, causing him to swing in Tim’s grasp and pump blood from the ragged stump of his shoulder over Tim’s feet and the landing at the top of the stairs.

Raising the intruder by his arm, Tim glared into the dying man’s eyes with hatred and rage that gave Ril pause. This was not the Labyrinth Lord she knew. He was something else, something...darker...

As the last of the light left the male’s eyes, Tim cast the dead male and his crudely amputated appendage down the stairs.

As the rage left Tim’s eyes and he slowly staggered back toward the fallen portrait, Ril became aware of the blood running down his calves and ankles. Each breath was accompanied by a wet rattle that grew more severe with each passing moment, matching pace with his increasingly pale skin.

Ril had seen the signs often enough to realise that he was dying. However, what she did not understand was why.

Ril knew Tim well enough to know that he possessed the knowledge to extend his life through mundane means. So it didn’t make sense that he would choose to do nothing.

Trembling Tim stiffly lowered himself to the floor and rested his back against the wall. Reaching for the broken portrait, Tim looked down at the face of the female in the portrait with an expression of regret and shame. “I’m sorry...” He rasped wetly, “I...I just can’t...I’m so tired...I just...I want it all to end...I’m sorry...”

Gasping for breath, Tim Shakily set the portrait down on the floor.

Spitting up a mouthful of blood, he slowly closed his eyes and stopped breathing.

Several minutes passed, and Tim died.

Bracing herself for the memory’s collapse, Ril was surprised to find herself in the early stages of being ejected from Tim’s mind.

By no means a specialist, Ril had enough experience to compensate for a lack of raw power and supporting Abilities. So she was unsettled by the fact that she couldn’t reestablish her hold and continue to the next scene of Tim’s subconscious. However, as she returned to her body, Ril was shocked to discover why she had been driven from Tim’s subconscious.

Tim, was awake.

Eyes black as pitch, Tim rose from his bed in complete silence, and before anyone present could react, disappeared.

“Tim!” Toofy cried out in distress, breaking the silence.

Although she was unsure why, Ril felt a pang of guilt. She had intended to wake Tim from the beginning, but she had not expected him to wake of his own accord. Taking Toofy’s hand, Ril gave it a reassuring squeeze, “I will find him Mama, and bring him back.”

On the verge of hysterics, Toofy looked at her with a conflicting expression of relief and profound concern. “Ril is sure? Ril be safe?” She asked hesitantly, evidently unwilling to place her in harm's way, even to rescue her friend.

“I will be safe, Mama,” Ril promised, touched by Toofy’s concern for her wellbeing. Another reminder of why she needed to reestablish the status quo.

For all his faults, Tim had created this fleeting moment of happiness, and Ril intended to make it last as long as she was able.

Gathering her MP, Ril cast out her senses and locked onto Tim’s position. Thankfully, he hadn’t left the realm, so the MP expenditure would be minor.

Teleporting close to Tim’s location, Ril instinctively ducked low to the ground intending to hide herself from sight.

She was just in time to witness a mature Coleopteran warrior become impaled by several stone spears projecting from the ground a few feet ahead of her position.

Mind racing, Ril took in her surroundings with supernaturally accelerated speed.

They were in the isolated territory nominally identified as Acheron, which was overrun by hundreds of the Coleopteran warriors.

Scowling darkly, Tim exuded an aura of pure undiluted rage.

Gathering MP at a dangerously reckless scale, he cast dozens of white-hot lances of fire at the closest Coleopteran warriors.

Despite the extreme speed of the magical missiles, the Coleopteran warriors were faster and managed to dodge out of the way.

Or so it seemed.

Correcting course mid-flight, the projectiles chased the Coleopteran warriors down, gaining in speed with each passing moment.

They didn’t seem to realise, but Tim was baiting them closer deliberately.

Appearing to take the bait, one of the Coleopteran warriors charged Tim directly, a host of magical weapons ready to eviscerate his unprotected flesh.

Indifferent to the danger, Tim made no outward signs of intending to defend himself. However, his reserve of gathered MP remained just as bountiful as before.

And yet, Ril could sense another Spell had been activated.

Stumbling, the Coleopteran warrior was struck in the back and its wings were immediately incinerated. Before the Coleopteran warrior could attempt to regain its composure, its carapace began to crack and wither.

Within a handful of heartbeats, the Coleopteran warrior was reduced to a mound of crumbling dust.

With the Coleopteran warrior’s death, Tim redoubled his offensive efforts, sending dozens more of the fiery missiles into the scattering ranks of the Coleopteran warriors.

Twice more, larger Coleopteran warriors attempted to charge Tim directly and engage him in a bloody melee. Both Coleopteran warriors fared no better than the first.

Changing tactics, the host of Coleopteran warriors began hurling weapons from a distance.

The instant the weapons left their owners' hands, they disappeared.

The world shifted.

Tim appeared before one of the largest Coleopteran warriors and it immediately collapsed to its knees. Still assaulting the other Coleopteran warriors with fire, Tim conjured another and drove it straight into the collapsed Coleopteran warrior’s head.

The Coleopteran warrior released a keening cry that made Ril’s ears ache abominably.

Tim appeared unaffected and made a point of twisting the flaming lance.

Ril felt an immensely powerful, and familiar, presence attempting to gain purchase on her mind. However, before she could deflect the attempt, Tim intercepted it.

There was a desperate unseen scramble for dominance, and then the presence retreated.

Bleeding from his eyes, ears and nose, Tim withdrew the flaming lance from the Coleopteran warrior’s head and sent it after someone else.

Tim spat a sputum of blood onto the fallen Coleopteran warrior and its body disintegrated.

Senses overloaded by the Spell he had just cast, Ril collapsed prone into the dirt. Trying to rise, she collapsed anew as Tim began repeating the Spell in rapid succession. A Spell she couldn’t help but recognise.

Life Drain.

To Ril’s knowledge, the Spell was meant to be ruinously costly, and that was before Empowering the Spell.

Directing her senses toward Tim, Ril only became more confused. As best she could tell, Tim was not losing MP at all. Searching her memories, Ril decided there was only one possible explanation.

Tim was using Sorcery.

Intended as a last-ditch measure, the Ability allowed the use of HP in place of MP for casting Spells. Using Sorcery to cast Life Drain would, theoretically, allow for indefinite casting of the Spell. Provided Tim had a living target to drain and replenish his HP. However, using HP when he still had MP available was nothing short of reckless. A recklessness that was compounded when paying for the Empowered effect on top of the original Spell.

The Coleopteran warriors began to retreat, Teleporting from the territory. However, their retreat was abruptly terminated as Tim set down an Empowered Anchor and exercised his authority to draw all remaining Coleopteran warriors within his realm to the wartorn fields of Acheron.

“Die,” Tim commanded, triggering a cascade of spontaneous disintegration.

Ril could only watch as Coleopteran warriors died by the score without being allowed so much as a chance to defend themselves.

It was a massacre.

Unnerved by Tim’s unexpected ruthlessness, Ril now understood the purpose of reliving the memory of the final days of his previous life. It was a simple matter of manipulation by stripping away the convenient lies that formed the bedrock of his self-perception.

Tearing down the person he thought he was and leaving something far darker in its place.

If Tim had been left to his own devices, he may have arrived at this point in the not-too-distant future, but there had been no certainty of it.

Recognising her failure for what it was, Ril felt a rare churning of shame twist her insides.

If she had made the effort to do so, Ril knew she could have derailed the memory. Allowed things to remain as they were for a while longer.

Tim began slowly pacing down the length of the field.

Following him from a distance, Ril wasn’t sure what to do. In his altered state of mind, there was no guarantee of her safety, and while she had no fear of death, Ril knew that Toofy would be inconsolable.

Was this any different? She wondered.

Every moment that passed made the changes that much more likely to stick.

She was too late to change what Tim had seen, but perhaps not too late to change his perception.

Making her choice, Ril scampered out of her hiding place and took on speed to catch up to-

Ril nearly lost her footing as she suddenly appeared at Tim’s side. He hadn’t stopped walking, but it was obvious that he was somewhat aware of her intentions.

“You saw it all, didn’t you...” Tim observed darkly. Beneath his anger was a profound undercurrent of despair that made it clear he was not referring to the massacre of the Coleopteran warriors.

“I did,” Ril admitted truthfully.

Tim grunted unintelligibly in response.

“It should not change who you are,” Ril asserted, probing Tim to more accurately gauge his mental state and receptivity.

Tim looked down at her with an incredulous expression on his face. “How could it not? I murdered two people...I tore a man’s arm off...”

“You did,” Ril agreed, trying not to sound dismissive. “They intended you harm, and you defended yourself.”

Staring ahead and at nothing in particular, Tim shook his head.

“Your story has not changed,” Ril insisted determinedly. “Only the details of a chapter long since passed.”

Tim scowled. “I murdered two people...”

Struggling to come to grips with his source of distress, Ril decided to probe deeper. “You have slain thousands before coming into this knowledge,” she accused. “Why must two lives matter more than they?”

Tim tightly pressed his lips together and his fingers twitched dangerously. “They shouldn’t...” He agreed quietly. “But they do...”

“Why?” Rill pressed.

Tim’s hands balled into fists and trembled from the tension.

Ril considered widening the space between them but promptly discarded the idea. “You did not believe yourself capable of such violence. That is why it is different,” she reasoned.

Tim unclenched his fists but said nothing.

“But this is where you were wrong,” Ril insisted. “You have always been capable. What you lacked was motivation.”

Tim frowned and furrowed his brow. He stopped walking shortly after as he became increasingly lost in thought. After several tense minutes of silence, he closed his eyes, sighed deeply and opened them again.

The blackness that had clouded his eyes was gone, and while Tim still appeared troubled, he was no longer teetering on the brink of homicidal rage.

“Thank you, Ril,” Tim said quietly.

Ril eyed him warily, nodded tersely in acknowledgement, and then Teleported away.

***** Tim ~ Tim’s Realm ~ Sanctuary *****

Staring up at the early night sky, It was difficult not to wish everything to disappear. The thoughts themselves left me feeling profoundly guilty, threatening to form a self-perpetuating loop of angst.

Although Ril hadn’t said it in as many words, I was behaving like a child.

Why should two lives matter more than the others?

I had killed thousands and was responsible for the deaths of many more.

I was still disappointed and upset with myself, but it was something I would just have to deal with.

If I was truly honest with myself, the brutal death of the two home invaders hadn’t been the main cause for my distress.

Giving up. Allowing myself to die without making so much as a token effort to prolong my life, that’s what disturbed me most of all.

There was a big difference between falling down the stairs and bleeding to death while unconscious and making the conscious decision to bleed out.

It wasn’t suicide, but it wasn’t much better.

Giving up like that...It shook me to my core. What made it worse was feeling and agreeing with all the motivating justifications my past self had made. Reconciling those feelings against my current experiences was messy and thoroughly depressing.

I was confident that I had regained a certain degree of equilibrium but still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being around other people. I didn’t want them to see me like this.

Thankfully, I had a ready excuse.

Turning my attention toward the mounds of dust scattered throughout the territory, I felt a fresh stab of guilt over my reckless behaviour.

While effective, relying so heavily on Sorcery had been dangerous. If the enemy had fled en masse, there was a chance that I could have drained myself into a critical state before I was able to use my authority and draw them back. Assuming they didn’t flee my realm entirely.

Unlike other battles against the Humans, I felt no guilt in killing the giant insects.

They had butchered innocent civilians, attempted to murder me in cold blood, and invaded my realm. I did not pity them.

Reviewing the notifications gave a name to the Species I was at war with.

Coleoptera.

To my knowledge, Coleoptera was the scientific designation for beetles or something along those lines. Which seemed to fit the general physical appearance of the monsters themselves.

I regretted not taking a prisoner when I had the chance. Despite my victory and purging the beetlemen from my realm, I still had no idea what they wanted and why they had ambushed me in the first place.

Continuing to review my notifications, one in particular drew my attention. I had gained another Class Ability.

Eldritch Core.

It provided a second, albeit smaller, source of MP. It was incapable of independent regeneration but could be filled using my existing MP. The primary benefit lay in the Eldritch effect being applied to any Spell cast using MP from the core. Afflicting affected enemies with Panic, Fear or even Terror.

I couldn’t argue with the obvious benefits such effects would have in combat situations and having extra MP available for emergencies would provide peace of mind.

Searching through the piles of ash, I began gathering a collection of exotic but otherwise mundane weapons.

I had hoped that by inspecting the weapons, I would discover how the Coleoptera’ had conjured their weapons out of thin air. However, after carefully examining hundreds of weapons, I was no closer to discovering how the enemy had called them to hand in the heat of battle.

Close to giving up, I stumbled across a large diamond. Unlike the weapons, the diamond contained an immense amount of mana. Approaching the diamond, I felt the faint touch of a malign presence on the periphery of my mind. Identifying the diamond as a threat, I gathered my MP and tried to decide which Spell would work best at destroying the diamond.

Perhaps sensing my intentions, the malign presence within the diamond lashed out with a telepathic attack.

Weathering the attack, I decided to conjure Shiverfang and deliver a Thundering Strike to the core of the diamond.

<STOP!!!> More a command than a desperate plea, the telepathically transmitted voice boomed through my mind like thunder.

<Why should I?> I demanded curtly, making a point of inching the tip of Shiverfang’s blade closer to the diamond.

<I POSSESS ANSWERS.> The voice failed to elaborate further.

<What answers?” I pressed warily.

<ASK. I WILL ANSWER.> The voice replied evasively.

<Why did you attack me?> I demanded bluntly, determined to destroy the diamond if I didn’t like the answer.

<DUTY COMPELS US.> The voice replied.

<Duty?!> I demanded incredulously. <You killed thousands of innocent people!>

<DEATHS OF LESSER SPECIES ARE OF NO IMPORTANCE.> The voice replied dismissively.

Disgusted by the voice’s reply, I scored a deep cut into the diamond. Hoping that the damage to the crystal would cause the owner of the voice some measure of pain.

<ATTACHMENT IS WEAKNESS.> The voice asserted. <DUTY IS ALL.>

<Duty to who?> I asked icily. <What could justify so much death?!>

There was no immediate reply. <SEEK OUT THE DOMINION. SURRENDER YOURSELF TO FATE.> The voice demanded and then disappeared, removing itself from my mind.

“Fate?...” I scowled and drove Shiverfang through the diamond, cleaving it in two.

Whatever binding lay within the diamond collapsed and the mana dissipated. I continued dissecting the diamond into increasingly smaller pieces, just for good measure. If the item was capable of independently establishing a telepathic link without the target's consent, there was no telling what else it could do if left to its own devices. Better to see it destroyed than run that risk.

Mulling over the words of the presence that had communicated through the diamond, I was forced to accept that the beetlemen would just keep coming. I couldn’t just defend my borders and hope they would leave my people alone.

They had tried to kill me and had very nearly succeeded.

Twice I had fought them, but I still wasn’t sure of their true strength. The first confrontation, an ambush, had been on their terms. The second, a massacre, had been on mine.

While within my realm, I had a massive advantage. The advantages afforded by my authority gave me cause to believe that while I may be able to kill up to a dozen or so of the beetlemen in what approximated a fair fight outside of my realm, I would inevitably fall to a coordinated strike or hastily prepared ambush.

I wasn’t nearly so powerful that I could just sweep enemies aside in perpetuity. I had learned as much while fighting the undead. Eventually, I would need to sleep, and that would make me vulnerable.

Even if I were to flee back to my realm, I would then lose any ground that was taken.

There was also the matter of defending my realm while I was otherwise indisposed.

During my absence, two territories had been invaded, and there was no telling how much further the invaders may have been able to push if I hadn’t returned when I had.

I needed to make some changes.

With Tartarus and Acheron, both compromised already, I merged them both together. Taking the water from several unassigned territories, I flooded the newly joined territories until the tallest landmarks were completely submerged beneath a hundred feet of water.

After seeding the new territory with aquatic wild monsters to form what might pass for a hostile yet functioning ecosystem, I set the new default arrival point to my realm in the centre of the territory.

Anyone who was not one of my subjects or lacked a token marking them as an ally would be stranded in a small freshwater ocean of aquatic predators.

Intending to take matters further, I transplanted several of Hana’s experimental Affinity-aligned plants and actively spread them across the surface and bottom of the water. I used the Plant Growth Spell and my Wood Affinity to exponentially multiply their numbers.

Even though they were unquestionably vicious, the aquatic monsters were not what I intended to guard the territory. They would serve as a tertiary defence, but it was not their primary purpose.

They would be the guardian’s food.

Sitting on the ocean floor, I conjured a dark grey and blue egg into my hand. A gift from Yi Gim, the egg was said to contain a powerful water serpent with the Water Affinity. It would almost certainly need time to grow. However, if the monsters of the Cultivator world were anything like the monsters from within the Labyrinths, it would only take a few months to develop into a serious threat.

The Water Affinity aligned energies were currently incredibly thin, but they would grow in time.

With that thought in mind, I gathered my Chi and then focused my mind on using it to surround and permeate the egg. Using my authority to prevent the currents from diluting my Chi, it wasn’t long before I felt the creature within the egg begin to stir.

When my Chi ran dry, I drew upon my internal energy directly. Although it caused me pain, the activity within the egg intensified close to a hundredfold.

Just as I was beginning to consider cutting off the flow of internal energy, the sides of the egg began to crack. Convinced to persist through the pain, I patiently and eagerly waited for the egg to hatch.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Keen on escaping its ovum prison, the serpent made a desperate attack against the side of the shell and cast a cloud of amniotic fluid into the surrounding water. No larger than my pinky finger, the tiny serpent had eel-like fins running down the length of its body and a pair of thin arms with webbed fingers. Long thin tendrils beneath the serpent’s snout trailed through the water as the serpent circled my hand and wove between the fingers of my right hand.

Spined fins on the sides of its head waved in time with its movements and disturbed its loose pale white mane. Providing a stark contrast against the serpent’s obsidian scales that seemed to trap and smother the light surrounding its body.

A notification had appeared in my peripheral vision as the serpent had hatched, but I paid it little mind.

[ Unidentified Species has been detected. ]

[ Incorporating Species into Codex. ]

Gently scratching the underside of the serpent’s chin with my finger I was surprised when another notification appeared in the centre of my vision.

[ Abyssal Serpent {Kwan} has requested a {Soul Bond}. Accept? (Y/N) ]

Attempting to answer in the affirmative, my words were reduced to a stream of bubbles and muffled blubbering noises. The notification didn’t seem to care and took my answer as I had intended, confirming the bond.

The tiny serpent, Kwan, spun several times on the spot and then nuzzled against my face. <Hungry. Feed.> A childish voice demanded eagerly.

I hadn’t sensed a telepathic link form and was taken somewhat by surprise.

<Hungry.> The voice repeated insistently, skittishly eyeing the surrounding water.

Conjuring a roasted Swamp Lurker carcass, I watched in amusement as Kwan raced toward it.

<Gratitude!> Kwan released several dolphin-like clicking noises as he plunged his head into a hole in the Swamp Lurker’s side and began feasting on the flesh within.

Watching the tiny serpent gorge itself, I felt some of the more oppressive tension in my mind and shoulders begin to ebb. However, my attitude changed rather significantly after inspecting Kwan’s Status.

His first Status was more or less in line with what I had come to expect from Ushu, Dhizi and Cooper, gaining defensive Abilities from his scales and as an aquatic predator.

It was Kwan’s Cultivation Status that concerned me. If I remembered things clearly, Yi Gim had said the serpent would possess the Water Affinity. Which was true. However, Kwan also had the Death Affinity, and it was considerably higher than the Water Affinity.

Concerned that the Affinity might have negatively impacted Kwan’s health, I did my best to look him over for signs of deformity or disease. A task made more difficult by his feeding frenzy.

Finding no physical signs that would justify my concerns, I was left to wonder how Kwan had taken on the Affinity in the first place.

I wasn’t left wondering for long.

I was the cause.

Since the last time I had checked my second Status, I had gained over a hundred ranks of Death Affinity. Causing it to take the place of my most dominant Affinity by a massive margin.

While I was not particularly knowledgeable regarding Cultivator shenanigans, it was safe to assume that saturating Kwan with my internal energy during his formative development would have certain consequences.

As for the massive gain in Death Affinity itself, I was convinced that my prodigious use of the Life Drain Spell was to blame.

Still unable to discern any negative effects from the Affinity, I settled into an uneasy meditative state.

<Hungry! Feed!> Kwan had doubled in size within less than an hour but was still smaller than the Swamp Lurker he had devoured. The physics of the transformation would have troubled me if I hadn’t witnessed Pete and Suzy eat up to twice their body weight in a single sitting many times before.

Conjuring another roasted Swamp Lurker, I noticed that Kwan’s teeth looked far more in line with those of a terrestrial meat eater rather than those of an aquatic predator.

Taking a closer look, I could also see small bony nubs beginning to sprout from within his pale mane.

By nightfall, Kwan had grown as long as my arm but was still too small to leave behind and fend for himself, and nowhere near strong enough to serve his intended role as guardian for the portal.

I couldn’t keep avoiding my family either, so I used my authority to take us both back to Sanctuary.

Leaving Kwan in the shallows with a pile of Swamp Lurker carcasses, I slowly made my way up the bank of the lake and toward the cave that served as my home. Looking over my shoulder as I walked, I spotted Momoko sleeping beside Hana in the boughs of the willow tree on the lake. She appeared to have grown while I was away, but I was too far to tell just how much.

Pushing aside the leather curtain that served as an intermediary door at the bottom of the passage, I found my family was already asleep.

Pete, Suzy and Eg were snuggled up around Lash on our bed.

After gently lifting Suzy out of the way so I could make enough space to lie down, I set her down on my chest and stared up at the ceiling in silence.

Mentally and emotionally exhausted, I began falling asleep almost immediately.

“DADDY!!!” Suzy cried out excitedly.

Heart hammering in my chest, I sat bolt-upright and would have sent Suzy flying off my chest and into the kitchen table if she hadn’t already wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.

Forcing down the panic through a force of will, I tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

I had a terrible headache and a vague achiness had settled into my bones.

Climbing onto the bed, Pete gave me a quiet but firm hug and then unceremoniously yanked his sister off of my neck. “Father needs rest,” he hissed quietly and continued dragging Suzy toward the kitchen where Lash was cooking something on the castiron stove.

Suzy initially put up a fight and looked like she was going to argue, only to meekly capitulate and redirect her manic energy toward Eg, Lash, and what I strongly suspected was something approximating pancakes being fried on the stove.

Settling back onto the bed again, I tried taking my temperature with the back of my hand and found I was running a fever.

The tepid water running through our cave leached away the worst of the accumulating heat, so I decided to just bear with it and try to sleep through the worst of it.

A deafening roar from outside echoed down the tunnel and I had barely managed to stagger to my feet when panic flooded through my connection with Kwan into my mind. “DANGER! FLEE! HIDE!” Kwan shrieked.

“Snake!” Suzy cried excitedly and splashed across the kitchen with her arms wide.

Eg let out a yelp in surprise, diving for cover behind Lash.

Pete briefly looked up from the book he was reading at the table and then continued reading.

<HIDE!> Kwan repeated, suddenly appearing on the far side of the kitchen from the direction of the tunnel to the surface and bounding through the kitchen’s knee-deep water in a panic. With Suzy trailing right behind him, Kwan leapt up and onto the bed and then wormed himself into the gap between my back and the moss that served as my mattress. <Protect!> The terrified serpent demanded, only marginally less terrified than a few moments prior.

Mind dulled by pain and fever, I splashed my face with water so I could try to focus. Thinking things over, and ignoring Kwan’s renewed pleas for help as Suzy began to give chase, I realised Ushu must have driven Kwan out of the lake.

“Suzy...Sweety, please stop chasing Kwan,” I pleaded while massaging my temple to try and relieve the tension.

“Hrm, okay,” Suzy agreed happily. Then she frowned and scratched her head in confusion. “Who Kwan?”

Grunting quietly from the pain, I reached behind my back and took a firm hold of Kwan’s tail then dragged him out into the open. “This is Kwan,” I explained, keeping a firm hold to stop the serpent from squirming away.

“Ooooh...” Suzy nodded in understanding and then frowned with disappointment. “Kwan no play?” She asked.

Kwan bared his teeth and hissed in a vain attempt to intimidate Suzy while trying to back away.

“No...” I sighed and kneaded my forehead to try and take the edge off my headache. Feeling guilty, I came up with an alternative. “But you can feed him if you want?”

Suzy’s lips parted into a wide toothy smile. “Okay!” She agreed happily, bobbing up and down in her excitement.

Pete looked up from his book. Expecting him to join Suzy, I was surprised when he exercised his authority to conjure a large clay pot at Suzy’s side instead and then continue reading his book.

Suzy grinned back at Pete and then pulled the lid off the pot.

Kwan stopped hissing and curiously tasted the air with his tongue. <Food?>

Suzy shoved her fist into the pot and drew out a fistful of shredded roast meat. “Eat!” She commanded, throwing the meat into the air.

Lash sighed with a bemused smile on her lips and shook her head as meat scraps were scattered roundabout our bedroom.

Abandoning his pride and fear, Kwan dove toward the closest scraps and scarfed them down, much to Suzy’s enjoyment.

Suzy’s cackling and giggling made it difficult to try and get back to sleep. But at a certain point, the exhaustion proved too much to handle.

Slipping into oblivion, I was reminded of my repeated promises to protect my family at any cost. Despite the anguish I felt over the revelation regarding my true character, I realised that, in a fucked up way, it might have been to my benefit. I wasn’t the man I had thought I was. I had no more excuses.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 77 - Fear the Reaper - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 77 - Fear the Reaper - Part One

Memories flooded Sebet’s mind in an endless loop, overlapping and repeating themselves faster than she could react or process them. Dragging her deeper into a suffocating embrace from which she could not escape.

There was nothing wrong with the memories themselves. In fact, many of her most recent memories brought Sebet an unexpected degree of entertainment, and even...comfort...

Ignoring the memories imposing themselves on her mind as best she could, Sebet’s thoughts turned to her consort, Clarice.

The fiery-tempered Human had initially intended as nothing more than an outlet for her carnal and sadistic impulses. However, the predatory empathy unique to Sebet’s Species had proved to be her undoing.

In normal circumstances, a Succubus would leverage what it learned from invasive telepathy and manipulate its prey into surrendering everything up to and including their life. However, the Tyrant’s laws, Oaths, and the Contract that bound her soul had left Sebet in a situation where she could not indulge her instincts outside of specifically dictated circumstances.

Full of repressed neurosis, shame, and doubt, Clarice had been comically effortless to read and seduce.

The problems began after bedding her.

Compelled by instincts deeply rooted in her subconscious, Sebet had come within a hair's breadth of breaking her Contract and ending her own life. The intervention of equally powerful self-preservation instincts had bought Sebet enough time for her rational mind to intervene and seize control.

Presenting Sebet figuratively stranded and unsure how to proceed.

Sebet knew, on a primal level, that she was supposed to feed on her prey when they were at their most vulnerable. Until that moment, she hadn’t understood why.

The same tools that made her kind unparalleled predators also created a weakness.

Empathy.

If the prey of a Succubus could survive long enough, the same empathy that allowed a Succubus to effortlessly manipulate and disarm its prey would introduce a cascade of increasingly complicated emotional attachments. Made more complicated by the lustful encounters that preceded feeding.

To sate her ego, Sebet had almost convinced herself that the flaw was deliberate. Intended as a means to secure a mate and ensure the proliferation of her Species. However, this flimsy rationalisation had collapsed under minimal scrutiny. Succubi did not require consent to secure a mate. Domination proved more than sufficient at securing the necessary Bond and could be established as the Succubi required it.

Which left Sebet and Clarice bound to one another by codependency.

“Pathetic...” The overlapping memories collapsed into darkness, revealing Gric’s cold calculating eyes. “While you slumbered, the Tyrant was assaulted...” The Daemon’s thoughts radiated a numbingly intense hatred and loathing.

“Attacked?...” Regaining her mental bearings was difficult, but she was not so far gone that she couldn’t recognise the danger.

“Fatally wounded!” Gric’s eyes burned with emerald flames and Sebet felt a sharp pain building in the core of her being.

She could tell that he was not attacking her on purpose, but it didn’t make much difference. A petty rivalry wasn’t worth her life. So, Sebet screamed for all she was worth, giving voice to the pain.

The intensity in Gric’s disembodied eyes did not diminish, but the pain receded almost immediately. “Our enemies laid an ambush. Anchors tore us from the Tyrant’s side, preventing us from returning...” His voice wavered and Sebet realised that his anger hadn’t been directed toward her but toward himself. “We failed him...”

Memories taken from the Tyrant’s mind played out around her, immersing Sebet in the Tyrant’s desperate battle for survival.

Almost immediately, Sebet recognised the presence attacking the Tyrant’s mind. Fragments of the same presence were present within the final streams of consciousness from her other selves.

Able to sense the Tyrant’s pain, Sebet quickly concluded that her other selves had most likely been terminated by a similar attack. Caught off guard, it wouldn’t have been difficult to overwhelm their mental defences.

As the battle wore on, Sebet became increasingly surprised by the Tyrant’s mental fortitude. In isolation, his choices were subpar at best. However, when accounting for the pain disrupting his thoughts, his decisions were better than Sebet would have otherwise expected.

Her opinion changed when it became clear the Tyrant held no intentions of retreating from the battle.

“Stupid...” Sebet hissed, chastising the Tyrant as he weathered another glancing blow from the enemy’s claws. “You did everything you could! Just leave! Run! Live to fight another day!”

Sebet felt the Tyrant’s resolve and knew he wouldn’t make the smart decision. The CORRECT decision.

He knew he couldn’t win, and he remained anyway. Committing himself to die.

“WHY?!” Sebet shrieked, raging at the Tyrant’s monumental stupidity. “What good would dying here serve?!”

Sebet briefly felt Gric’s thoughts align with her own and was reminded that she was not alone.

“Why did he do that?...” Sebet asked despondently. Watching The Tyrant’s inevitable collapse had wearied her to an extent she hadn’t thought possible.

“The Tyrant could not leave them...” Gric replied, drawing several instances of the memory into focus, directing Sebet’s attention to the Humans fleeing and cowering in the periphery of the battle.

Her anger all but spent, Sebet felt a fresh stab of irritation stoke the embers. However, before she could give voice to her grievances, new memories of past events joined those from the battle.

Pale and bloated bodies are left to rot in the sun. A massacred village of Goblins, their small pale bodies left to rot and bloat in the sun. A Goblin child impaled on a spear and pinned to a tree.

Humans, men, women, and so many children...haphazardly discarded in the corners of dark and fore-stained rooms. Their pale lifeless faces locked in expressions of pain and terror.

A city of shambling corpses. More children...

“I’m seeing a pattern...” Sebet commented wryly.

Gric gave the impression that he was about to reply but abruptly stopped short of doing so. Distracted, the presence of his mind turned elsewhere.

Sensing a mounting feeling of alarm, Sebet attempted to force her beleaguered consciousness back into the waking world.

Opening her eyes for what felt like the first time in over a century, Sebet began to rise from the unfamiliar bed but stopped herself upon realising she wasn’t alone.

Hair slick with grease and clothes breaking of sweat and fear, Clarice was awkwardly slumped over her midriff with her legs hanging over the side of the bed. Were it not for her arms wrapped around Sebet’s midsection, Clarice probably would have fallen off of the bed.

Feeling blood begin to rush to her groyne, Sebet was quite suddenly made aware that the changes she had last made to her body had not been reversed during her incapacitation. Seeing no point in letting the opportunity go to waste, Sebet reached for Clarice’s head with one hand while drawing away the blankets with the other.

Less than an inch from touching Clarice’s hair, Sebet froze.

Two death notifications had appeared in rapid succession.

Before Sebet could process what had happened, five more notifications joined the others.

Through force of will, Sebet forced her mind into action.

Every one of her Acolytes was protected by extensive Contracts. To die while within Tim’s realm meant their attackers were capable of inflicting injuries that could bypass the Contracts.

Casting her mind toward her tower and hastily rereading the notifications, Sebet was shocked to learn that her Acolytes had all been slain by the same individual.

Anuk’ra.

Not recognising the name, Sebet decided to exercise her limited authority and move her Acolytes to safety.

In other circumstances, she would not have been overly concerned for their well-being or general survival. After all, each Acolyte’s death made her ever so slightly stronger. However, there were three key issues.

Firstly, Sebet didn’t have so many Acolytes that she could let them die so frivolously. Secondly, she had spent a considerable amount of time grooming several talented individuals and didn’t want to see that investment expended for no discernable benefit. Lastly, but most importantly, the Tyrant would not be pleased to learn she had allowed so many of her subordinates to die.

Sebet didn’t have permission to move her Human Acolytes to Sanctuary. So she settled for depositing them in a Human city instead. Intending to interrogate them in person, Sebet released a stressed sigh and shook Clarice awake.

“B’wah?” Lips and chin slick with drool, Clarice blinked tiredly while staring blankly at the far wall. Pawing away the drool with her wrist and forearm, a host of complicated emotions raged behind her eyes.

As a Human, Clarice couldn’t see in the dark. However, her prey instincts had set her on edge. Alerting her that she was being observed and causing her to look toward the faint traces of light filtering under the door at the far side of the room.

Unable to help herself, Sebet silently extended her already elongated tongue and lashed it across Clarice’s cheek, aiming at the lingering traces of drool.

True to form, Clarice let out a shriek and swung a vicious backhanded blow through the air beside her face as she scrambled back from the bed. Just as quickly as she had retreated, Clarice leapt forward again, advancing on her unseen enemy.

Incidentally, causing her to stumble over Sebet’s bed and land in a deliciously compromising and accommodating position.

Before Sebet could act on her lustful intentions, Gric made his presence known in her mind.

<We are being invaded!> Gric announced grimly, sharing a disturbingly vivid memory of several large chitinous warriors bearing down on him from the remains of what had once been Sebet’s tower. <Are you fit for battle?>

<Of course.> Sebet replied hurriedly, silencing Clarice’s cries of alarm by fiercely pressing her lips over Clarice’s mouth and forcing her tongue down her throat.

<Arm yourself. Join us in Acheron.> Gric stated bluntly and then severed the connection.

Drawing Clarice closer, Sebet squeezed the fiery redhead’s tight muscled buttocks with a clawed hand. Taking care to pierce the skin just enough to generate the pain her consort desired without going so far as to cause a meaningful injury.

With a force of will, Sebet drew herself away. Gazing at Clarice’s flushed face and dazed expression, she felt an immense degree of satisfaction. Her consort was not a particularly difficult individual to seduce, but there was a measure of pride to be found in a job knowing she had her in the palm of her hand.

“I will be back later,” Sebet purred, raising her consort’s chin affectionately with a clawed finger and forcing her to meet her gaze. “Be ready for my return...” Before Clarice had the chance to react, Sebet used her limited authority to relocate to Acheron.

Debating whether the increased testosterone would be a boon, Sebet ignored the stares of the Tyrant’s Bodyguards and began donning her stone armour. It wouldn’t provide the same degree of protection it afforded while in her Human form, but its near indestructible composition would provide an invaluable benefit all the same.

While Sebet was occupied donning her armour, Several of the most prominent Daemons, as well as the Tyrant’s champions, appeared on the surrounding plains.

If she had not experienced the Tyrant’s desperate battle for herself, Sebet would have been tempted to think Gric was overestimating their enemies' capabilities. As it was, she wouldn’t be ashamed to admit that she felt a certain degree of relief as the massive scaled form of a dragon blocked out the sun and cast them all in shadow.

Another one of the Tyrant’s ‘rescues’, the dragon, Ushu, was truly massive. Close to two hundred feet long from snout to tail and thirty feet tall at the shoulder, his pale green and blue scales shimmered with a sickly venomous iridescence as they caught the light. Born aloft by huge leathery wings, not all that different from her own, the beating of Ushu’s wings was strong enough to force the few Humans in attendance to huddle together or risk being blown off their feet.

It was just as well they had taken the precaution.

Making his landing, Ushu’s immense weight and intense speed caused the ground to shake treacherously underfoot. This caused several of the Tyrant’s Bodyguards to lose their balance and fall to the ground.

For their part, the Daemons were radiating an intense aura of violent anticipation. Each a unique abomination unto themselves, Sebet was unsettled to learn that she was unfamiliar with the majority's capabilities.

She was aware of Gric, Qreet, Dar and Senn, as the key players amongst the Tyrant’s menagerie of Daemons. Each of them playing a key combat or administrative role within the realm.

Almost as large as the dragon, Dar was a mountain of muscle, bony protrusions and heavily scaled flesh.

Although small in comparison to Dar, Senn’s serpentine lower body afforded her a considerable degree of height as she required it. Allowing the four-armed Daemon to strike at a deceptively greater distance than an enemy would otherwise anticipate. Bearing two blood-forged stone spears and a pair of blood-forged wave-bladed swords, Senn was one of the few Daemons equipped with manufactured weaponry.

The overwhelming majority of the Daemons wore no armour and carried no weapons, seemingly trusting in their claws, teeth and unnaturally resilient hides to carry them through the battle.

Even Qreet, a spindly-limbed female Daemon with a deep amethyst hide, seemed content to go to war in nothing more than a dark tattered robe and a magical staff.

Of course, Gric was a notable exception. Wearing the blood-forged stone armour created by the Tyrant, Gric had retracted his wings into his body, no doubt to eliminate a potential weakness.

The sudden arrival of the Fallen Angel, Ophelia, brought a momentary lull to the anxious murmuring of the Tyrant’s mortal servants. Even the Orcs, who had no history of worshipping the Angels, fell silent and looked upon her radiant aura with awe.

Presented to the Humans as an avatar of war, Ophelia had grown incredibly powerful feeding on the Humans' worship and faith. Every article of clothing, her armour, and weapons were low-level relics. Sanctified by repeated exposure to raw Divinity and given purpose by her Divine Portfolio. Were she not one of the Fallen, and a fellow servant of the Tyrant, Ophelia’s presence would have given Sebet considerable cause for alarm.

The pair of Fallen Angels had been reinvesting almost all of their accumulated Divinity into cultivating the Humans' religious fervour. However, even without the relics, Ophelia was incredibly dangerous. A true masochist, the Fallen Angel revelled in her own pain and drew strength from it, making her a greater threat as any engagement dragged on.

Which was thankfully more than could be said for her progenitor, Orphiel. Little more than a foppish minstrel, it was a wonder he had agreed to join the battle at all. When the fighting started, Sebet wouldn’t be at all surprised if he were to flee at the first sign of danger.

At Gric’s telepathic command, the gathered forces of the Tyrant spread across the open field. Each group or powerful individual claiming a section of ground as their own.

Gric’s plan at its core was simple. He intended to use his limited authority to draw invaders from Tartarus in small numbers and position them for execution within Acheron. All the while providing support through the same authority.

Sebet couldn’t fault the plan at face value, but the plan would fall apart if the both of them were somehow compromised. So it came as no surprise when Gric strongly advised her to stay out of the battle and remain an observer.

<Casting out the telepath may not be possible.> Gric admitted through a private connection. <If something goes awry. It is your responsibility to initiate a retreat. Keep your mind closed and remain hidden if you are able.>

<If I am able?...> Sebet resisted the urge to make a snide remark, recognising that Gric had not commented to agitate her. Despite the confidence he had projected to the others, Sebet could sense the profound unease warring beneath his calm exterior.

They were taking a risk in engaging the enemy. A risk that was arguably unnecessary.

Tartarus was a single territory and was isolated from the rest of the realm. There was nothing the invaders could do beyond vandalising the place and fighting amongst the other invaders imprisoned beneath the tower.

Assuming they didn’t have a Labyrinth Lord of their own...

If they did, then it changed everything.

Without the Tyrant to answer a challenge against his rival, Tartarus would be taken from the greater realm, and worse still, there would be no telling where the new portal to the world beyond would establish itself.

The risk of the primary cluster of territories being chosen was incredibly high. Which would leave the Tyrant himself at incredible risk, and with him, the entire realm.

<I’ll do it.> Sebet agreed determinedly and began raising her mental defences to their highest levels. Cut off from Gric’s telepathy, she felt a momentary sense of grim approval before his mind turned elsewhere.

While Sebet rarely indulged in outright reading the minds of those around her, cutting herself off from the most freely available emotional impulses of the crowd left her feeling unexpectedly ill. As if for the first time in her life, she was experiencing true sobriety. Worse even, her skin began to itch and she very nearly began lowering her defences without realising she was doing it.

Sequestering herself alongside the trio of Humans, Sebet gnawed anxiously at her lower lip, distracting herself with the taste of blood and pangs of pain the injury provided.

Although they were the weakest individuals of the assembled force, the Humans had an advantage the others lacked. They had access to the Tyrant’s Artefacts.

Only time would tell if the Artefacts would level the playing field sufficiently for the Humans to pose a viable threat. However, at least for the time being, it made sense to allow them the opportunity to prove themselves.

A discordant wail echoed over the plains, drawing all eyes to Orphiel and his bizarre lute. Plucking his fingers at the strings with one hand while holding the neck of the instrument with the other, ghostly apparitions appeared at his back, striking a rhythmic beat on ephemeral drums.

The surprisingly upbeat and simple tune took Sebet by surprise.

Increasing in intensity, Oprhiel began striking at the cords in earnest. “This is your time to pay! This is your judgement day!”

Sebet felt a rush of power wash over her and reinforce her will.

“We made a sacrifice! And now we get to take your life!” Synchronising with the lyrics of Orphiel’s strange song, a hulking chitinous monster appeared in front of the Humans.

Already in motion, the three Humans struck at the gaps in int he chitin between its knees and ankles, driving it to the ground.

One of the males, carrying a vicious-looking mace, continued striking at the fallen creature’s knee, mangling the chitin and crippling its leg with Thundering Strikes.

Carrying the Tyrant’s spear, the second male stabbed deep into the left side of the chest of the creature in pursuit of its heart while the female levelled her bow at its head and released several arrows in rapid succession.

Despite their ferocity, the Humans failed to subdue the chitin-plated creature and were forced to fall back several steps to avoid being struck in turn.

However, before the creature could regain its footing, thick gnarled vines covered in poisonous thorns erupted from the ground and seized its arms and legs, momentarily stalling its movement.

Leaping back into the fray, the Humans redoubled their efforts, hacking and bashing at the creature with savage abandon.

A clean strike from the spearman severed the creature’s head but failed to kill it outright.

All around, others were having similar problems dispatching their opponents.

No matter how savagely they were beaten, skewered and torn apart, the creatures would continue to fight on and gradually piece themselves back together.

Only Dar and Ushu appeared capable of generating sufficiently catastrophic damage to end the creatures outright and prevent their regeneration.

So, it came as little surprise to Sebet when Gric appeared to change strategies. Using his authority, Gric began redirecting injured creatures to Ushu and Dar, all the while continuing to feed new arrivals to their other forces.

Invigorated by Orphiel’s performance, the battle continued at a feverish pace.

With no telling if or when a rival Lord would arrive, Gric was wasting no time in assigning each available group a new opponent.

As MP began to grow thin, the Humans became increasingly vicious, targeting areas and organs they believed would inflict the most pain and debilitation rather than the greatest amount of damage.

Others had begun doing the same.

The Tyrant’s bodyguards, fighting three or four-on-one, had taken to tackling and pinning the creatures while another member of their group amputated the creatures’ limbs.

Surprisingly, Ophelia had yet to enter the fray, and Sebet could only assume that Gric was holding her in reserve.

Watching the Humans ready themselves for their next opponent, Sebet felt a faint but unmistakable premonition of approaching danger.

“Fall back!” Sebet snarled, exercising her authority just in time to draw herself and the three Humans back several dozen feet.

Less than a second later, another creature appeared where they had just been standing. Otherwise identical to those that had come before, there was something profoundly unsettling about the creature that gave Sebet pause.

A fraction of a second later, Sebet felt something attempt to gain access to her mind. If she hadn’t already been prepared for it, they might have gained a foothold before she could react. However, as a pulse of mana emanated from the newly arrived creature, Sebet realised that she had made a mistake.

Before Sebet could so much as cry out in alarm, the creature released a pulse of mana and was immediately surrounded by hundreds of its kin.

With her blade drawn, Ophelia raced through the sky and down toward the anomalous creature.

Dozens of new arrivals appeared in her path but disappeared almost as quickly, banished from the territory by Gric’s authority.

Uncertain why Gric allowed the creature to remain, Sebet attempted to remove it from the realm herself.

[ Authority is insufficient for this request. ]

Reading the notification that appeared before her eyes, Sebet felt a fleeting pang of fear before managing to return to her senses.

Shifting priorities, Sebet began banishing as many of the creatures as she was able.

Working in tandem with Gric, they managed to banish all of the other creatures from Acheron. New arrivals and no doubt several returnees, continued to appear but were banished just as quickly as they arrived. Giving Ophelia a clear approach.

Sweeping her sword toward the creature’s neck, Ophelia was thrown to the side as a large obsidian blade appeared in the creature's hand, clashed against hers, and cast her aside.

Trask, one of the Tyrant’s most recent recruits, bellowed a warcry and charged. Only to collapse mid-stride several large steps later.

The three humans collapsed limply to the ground, limbs spasming and twitching in the grips of a seizure.

Orphiel’s music stopped and he toppled from the sky.

Ushu shrieked and howled in rage, lashing at the ground with his tail and smashing his head into the earth.

The Tyrant’s bodyguards dropped their weapons, falling to their knees and crying out in pain as they clutched at their blood-forged helmets.

The Daemons charged, but not toward the creature. Surrounding Gric with a wall of fangs, claws, flesh and bone.

Recognising the danger they were in, Sebet used her authority to begin evacuating their forces, delivering them straight to Sanctuary’s hospital.

The instant Sebet exercised her authority, the creature turned on her and she felt an ancient presence attempting to force itself into her mind.

Staggered under the weight of the mental attack, Sebet barely managed to leap into the air in time to avoid the strike from a second creature that had appeared behind her.

Easily three times the size of the other creature, the new creature carried a glaive that had to be close to a hundred feet long. The blade was so impossibly large that it would have crushed and dashed her apart.

Furiously beating her wings for all she was worth, Sebet narrowly dodged a pair of giant daggers that the creature cast after her. However, even though she dodged the attacks themselves, the change in pressure caused by their passing dragged Sebet off her intended course and sent jolts of pain radiating from her left wing.

Banishing the larger creature before it could continue its attack, Sebet gathered her MP and threw a lance of fire at the remaining creature. Expecting the attack to fail, Sebet descended in its wake as fast as she was able, gathering more MP.

Blocking the lance of fire with an open hand, the creature caught Sebet by the neck with the same hand.

“Now you die...” The creature said dismissively, clattering and licking its disgusting myriad of tiny feeding arms around its mouth. Increasing the pressure, its chitin-covered hand effortlessly crushed her windpipe and spine.

Sebet gurgled in triumph and cast her Spell. Almost immediately, she felt a sudden surge of rejuvenating energy flood into her body.

The creature’s grip weakened and its arm began to wither.

“Jokes on you!” Sebet cackled wickedly, “I’m into this shit!” Snatching at the creature’s weakened wrist to brace herself, Sebet lashed out with the talons on her right foot and anchored them into the crack between several plates that protected the creature’s jugular. Locking her toes, Sebet sent another pulse of the Life Drain Spell out through her foot.

No doubt recognising the danger it was in, the creature flailed and battered her with its three remaining arms. However, its claws failed to find purchase on Sebet’s armour and lacked a viable angle to reliably strike at the gaps her armour couldn’t cover in her true form.

“Grlkgka!” The creature gurgled hatefully, clearly enraged by how Sebet had managed to turn the tables.

“RAAAAAGH!!!” Dar’s deafening roar was the first and final warning of his approach. However, instead of tackling the creature, Dar leapt over them both and crashed into something behind them.

Glancing over her shoulder, Sebet was surprised to find that the giant creature had already returned.

Tackling the giant creature to the ground, Dar ripped and tore at its desperately flailing limbs with savage and single-minded abandon.

When a second giant creature appeared on his flank, Dar ignored it and buried his horned head in the first creature’s bowels. Drawing out the creature’s digestive tract and other internal organs in a spray of gore the second creature impaled Dar’s flank with a long thin sword.

Witnessing several more of the giant creatures appearing around her and the other Daemons, Sebet knew she had to act fast.

Drawing on as much MP as he could spare, Sebet amplified her Spell tenfold.

Already desperate, the creature’s attacks became increasingly frantic. However, they lacked the strength to do any meaningful damage.

Just as Dar had done before her, Senn bodily tackled another giant creature that was rapidly closing on Sebet. Coiling about its body, she pinned three of its arms and savagely assaulted its armoured face.

Massive vines covered in hooked thorns intercepted three others and drew them into a yawning pit.

A barrage of elemental missiles drove back another.

With the tides turning in their favour, Sebet expected Gric to join the fray at any moment and help her deliver the killing blow.

Several tense moments passed and Sebet’s MP began to run dry.

Looking toward the cluster of Daemons, Sebet was shocked to find Gric hanging onto Qreet and another female Daemon’s shoulder for support. Still under the effects of the Enhanced Senses Spell, Sebet could see trails of blood running from beneath his helmet and even make out his laboured breathing.

Staggering, Ophelia regained her feet and cast aside her battered and misshapen helmet. Blood was running freely down her cheeks like amber tears and her eyes were lacking focus. Struggling to put one foot in front of the other, she grit her teeth in grim determination and raised her sword.

Weakened by the life force Sebet had stolen, the creature collapsed to its knees.

Almost entirely out of mana, Sebet took the opportunity to disengage, rolling off to the side and drawing her whip in one fluid motion.

Just as Sebet leapt clear, Ophelia drove the tip of her sword through the gap in the armoured plates protecting the creature’s eyes and into whatever lay beyond. Seemingly lacking the strength to penetrate the chitin on the other side, Ophelia’s strike came to an abrupt halt.

For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then, without warning, amber flames erupted along the length of Ophelia’s blade.

The creature shuddered and the same amber flames erupted through the gaps in the chitin covering its body.

As the chitin and flesh burned away, Sebet expected to find a kill notification. However, no such message came.

Making matters worse, more of the creatures were appearing with every passing moment.

All but certain the creature was dead, Sebet could only assume that whatever Spell or Ability it had used would continue to run its course until the MP used to create it ran dry. Furthermore, given that she and the others were in no fit state to continue fighting against such overwhelming numbers, Sebet decided that they had to retreat, regroup and form a new strategy.

Exercising her authority to take them all back to Sanctuary, Sebet could only take Gric’s lack of resistance as tacit approval. Which meant he was almost certainly in a far more critical condition than she had realised.

***** Tim ~ ????? ~ ????? *****

It was a typical Spring day in the Adelaide suburbs. Parents were helping their children cross the street on the way to school. Men and women were lining up at the bus station or getting into their cars to head off to work. And all of them were staring suspiciously at me while I was doing my best to pretend that I didn’t notice.

Head and shoulders taller than the other men waiting at the bus stop, and nearly twice as wide, I stood out like a sore thumb. By every modern aesthetic, barring height and facial symmetry, I was the poster child for ugly.

Entirely bald from the crown of my skull to the bottom of my feet, or Alopecia Totalis, I was wearing a large Bunnings straw sunhat and a pair of dark-tinted swimming goggles to avoid getting sunburnt in forty-degree heat. Of course, this only served to draw even more attention to myself, but it was a necessity I couldn’t go without if I wanted to be able to read anything once I arrived at university.

I would have preferred to wear sunglasses, but the irregular shape of my ears and the wideness of my face would have required them to be custom-made. While not exactly poor, I didn’t have so much money that I could frivolously waste it on what essentially boiled down to a matter of aesthetic preference.

It wasn’t like those two things would change much of anything anyway. The diagnosed cause of my Alopecia was minor nerve damage that encompassed nearly my entire body. While making me somewhat more resistant to pain, my abnormally thick skin also made me more resistant to abrasions and similar trauma. The combination of the two left my skin a pale and unnatural greenish-grey.

I was a monster waiting at a bus stop in the South Australian suburbs. It would have been weird if I didn’t draw attention.

When my bus arrived, I moved down to the disabled access point halfway down the length of the bus and waited for the driver to open the doors. While I technically could squeeze through the main door and past the driver, it would be an uncomfortable experience for both of us.

When the doors opened, I pretended not to notice as the bus lurched slightly to one side in reaction to my weight. Waving my MetroCard past the card reading machine, I shuffled to the opposite side of the bus and stood in the space normally reserved for wheelchairs or mobility scooters. Again, while I could technically fit in a regular seat, getting out of it on time was another thing entirely.

Once the bus driver had finished adjusting the hydraulics to compensate for my weight, and the remaining passengers had boarded, the bus slowly moved on to continue its route.

Removing the earbuds from my pocket, I pushed them into my ears and pressed the play icon displayed on the app on my phone.

Listening to music was a necessary distraction and made the half-hour bus ride tolerable.

Staring listlessly out the window, I felt a fleeting sense of deja vu. However, given that I made this trip a dozen or more times in any given week, I paid it little mind.

After getting off the bus at my intended stop, I walked through the park beside the hospital parking lot so I could loop around to the university buildings located nearby. The hospital was a teaching hospital affiliated with the university, so it was common for medical students and teachers to cross through the large parking lot.

I was at the point in my nursing degree that I would begin making similar trips of my own to acquire my required job placement hours. Of course, that was assuming my application was accepted.

One of the downsides of the university being so close to the teaching hospital was that it made securing the job placement hours incredibly competitive and often meant that the supervisors were short-tempered regarding student error.

I had applied to several accredited nursing homes and hospices that I could reach by bus or train, so I wasn’t particularly worried. According to my teachers, no one had ever failed the job placement requirements component of their degree because of a lack of available opportunities. Those who failed, presumably, lacked the initiative to cast a wider net.

I was hoping to secure a placement at a hospice I was already familiar with. It was the same long-term care facility that had provided care for my Mum before she passed away. The staff had been nothing but kind to my Mum despite their busy schedules. So, lacking any other meaningful direction in my life, I decided to honour my Mum’s memory by training to become a nurse for a hospice or other long-term care facility.

Most of the jobs I was aiming for required a relatively high degree of physical strength and fitness in addition to general knowledge of medical practices and procedures. The former I already possessed in spades, and the latter was why I was attending university.

I stopped briefly as I reached a park bench close to the edge of my route. It was occupied by a grizzled old man sleeping beneath a crude tent formed by a filthy blanket hung over the back of the bench and the end of the seat. Out of habit, I withdrew a plastic-wrapped cheese and butter sandwich from my satchel bag and set it down on a free space on the bench.

I had never spoken to him before, but the old man was always there, sleeping on the bench when I was on my way to university.

No more scruffy than any of the other homeless people I had encountered, he was the exception in that I had no negative experiences with him whatsoever. Our entire relationship began and ended with me leaving sandwiches on the bench.

Getting up to leave, the rustling of plastic wrap drew my attention back to the old man.

He had pushed away the blanket and was now sitting on the bench instead of lying on top of it. Visibly haggard and with a great deal of overgrown hair, it was hard to guess at his age. His wild hair, stained Metallica T-shirt and torn faded jeans made him sort of look like one of the stagehands for a rock band. Or rather, what I thought they might look like since I had never seen anyone like that in person.

The old man was already halfway through the sandwich, happily chewing away with crumbs in his bushy moustache and beard.

Feeling quite awkward, I turned to leave again.

“Shouldn’t be here,” the old man grumbled and muttered under his breath.

‘What?” I asked, looking back at the man only to find he appeared to be talking to himself and not to me.

Crossing the street, I momentarily removed my sun hat so I could remove my tinted swimming goggles. I had a poor enough reputation on campus as it was, and I had no desire to worsen it further.

I was just about to ascend the steps to the main building but paused and looked around when I heard the voice of one of my professors nearby.

“Damnable contraption! Wheels are meant to make it easier! Not more difficult!” Professor Ander’s cursed.

Skirting around the hedge and approaching the wheelchair access ramp, I found Professor Ander’s fussing with the wheel locks of a large road case.

The elderly Professor's expression brightened as he noticed my approach and apparent interest. “Ah, Tim, be a good man and help me with this would you?” Professor Ander’s asked cheerily, in stark contrast to his earlier frustration.

“Sure,” I shrugged and knelt beside the road case, checking each wheel lock to see what might be the problem. One of the wheel locks was broken and wasn’t releasing its brake, causing the wheel to drag and spin the rest of the case. “The lock’s busted,” I explained, pointing to the offending wheel lock, “I could just carry it for you if you want. I think my first lecture today is one of yours anyway.”

Professor Ander’s beamed with gratitude, “While I do not wish to impose, I must accept your offer for the sake of prudence. Ms Gilligan requires the contents for today’s Senior First Aid classes.”

Taking hold of the spring-loaded handles on either side, I lifted the case without much trouble and very little effort.

Because I had taken the classes before, I already knew which rooms had been set aside for Ms Gilligan’s classes.

Technically not a member of the teaching staff of the university, Ms Gilligan’s Basic First Aid and Senior First Aid classes were not restricted to students of the university. It was something of a subcontracting situation from the business side of things. Frequented by students, members of the public and most often the employees of local businesses that required renewal of their certifications.

All the same, Professor Ander’s made a point of remaining slightly ahead of me. The three feet of difference in our respective body height drew more attention than usual. However, a well-timed scowl from the Professor had the unerring effect of convincing other students that they had better things to do.

“Thank you for the help Tim,” Professor Ander said quietly, “If you would just leave it by the door, that would be quite enough. Thank you. You really shouldn’t be here after all.”

I nodded and set the crate down by the door.

Professor Ander began making his way over to Ms Gilligan with a big goofy smile on his face. It was the worst-kept secret on campus that they had been ‘not dating’ for the better part of a year. Since it was none of my business, I began making my way toward Lecture Hall C for my first lecture of the day.

Unlike some of the other students attending the lecture, I wasn’t surprised when Professor Ander was a little late.

When I first started attending university, I had tried on previous occasions to sit in the back row so I wouldn’t stand out as much. Unfortunately, my odd appearance drew the attention of lecturers and teaching aides like moths to a flame. It was incredibly rare for me to attend a lecture and not be called on to answer a question or provide an opinion on the subject material of the lecture.

I hated it.

What made it worse was when most of the students in the lecture hall turned to look back at me while I gave my response. I wasn’t able to just watch the lectures online either. Because my presence was so painfully obvious that it made my absences impossible to overlook.

Technically, I could tell my tutors and professors to ‘shove off’, but the medical field was such a close-knit profession that a recommendation letter from my Professors could affect my entire career.

My only option was to suck it up and minimise my anxiety by sitting in the far side of the front row. At least there I would only be able to see a few people staring at me instead of everyone.

I spent the time between my scheduled lectures and classes sitting in a private study space in the library.

Rather than just goofing off or wasting time, I divided my time between practising sign language with the help of a mirror and reviewing basic medical procedures I expected to be commonplace in palliative care.

Leaving university in the early evening, the old man was nowhere to be seen as I made my way to the bus stop to head home.

The clouds gathering in the early evening sky suggested that it would be raining by the time I reached the bus stop, so I took out the compact umbrella from my satchel bag and waited for the first drops to fall. The weather was always weird around this time of year and I had just grown to accept it.

The bus ride home was proving more or less uneventful. However, I was halfway home before I realised someone seemed to be following me.

Without stopping, I glanced over my shoulder and found a young woman with dark brown hair, wearing a business jacket and skirt making an effort to deliberately match my pace down the wet sidewalk. She had an umbrella of her own, so I didn’t understand why she was sticking so close to me.

It was only after she made a sudden left turn and made a dash to the front door of a nearby house that I vaguely recalled having seen her on the bus several times before. I also now had an unobstructed view of two rough-looking men who had suddenly pulled up short halfway down the street.

Both were wearing baseball caps and dark raincoats, so I couldn’t make out either of their features. All the same, there was something about them that unsettled me.

By the way, they both abruptly turned around and double-timed it down the street, I could only assume that they had a similar feeling about me.

I noticed the woman peeking through her curtains and gave her a shy wave as I prepared to continue down the street.

She pulled the curtains shut before I even managed to raise my hand.

Finishing my walk home, I dried out my umbrella and set aside my things before making dinner. I listened to music to fill the silence of the empty house while I ate alone at the dinner table and while washing the dishes in the sink.

Going to bed early, I checked and rechecked that my alarms were set to the correct time and then fell asleep.

Waiting at the bus stop in the morning, I saw the woman in the business suit again but decided against trying to talk to her. There were just too many ways for it to go wrong.

After getting off the bus, I left a fritz and cheese sandwich for the old man on the bench and turned to leave.

“Hey,” a gruff voice grunted from the direction of the bench, “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

I turned back to the bench and found the old man staring at me while he unwrapped the sandwich I had left for him,

“Yeah you,” the old man confirmed before taking a bite of the sandwich.

“Sorry, but I don’t keep any money on me,” I apologised, expecting the old man to ask for a handout. I hadn’t carried cash since I was seven years old, buying books from a local library’s book sale.

The old man waved his hand dismissively, “You can keep yer plastic,” he grunted, “Though I wouldn’t say no to another sandwich,” he suggested hopefully.

I considered the sandwich inside my bag and then my pudgy stomach. “Fine,” I agreed, reasoning that missing a meal wouldn’t kill me. I fished out the other sandwich and handed it to the old man.

The old man grinned as he chewed on a bite from the first sandwich and gratefully accepted the second sandwich with a surprisingly clean and well-manicured hand. “Yer a good kid, you know that? But you shouldn’t be here.”

I shrugged noncommittally, “Sorry, but I have classes to get to, so...” I began to turn away. The old man made no further attempts to stop me, so I continued on my way.

The woman followed me on the way home from the bus stop again, maintaining a fixed distance between us until we reached her house. Just like last time, she didn’t say a word.

The next couple of days passed in much the same way. I had made the habit of packing an extra sandwich for the old man because the dip in energy had made it difficult to concentrate during longer classes.

The old man ended our brief conversations in the same way each time. Insisting that I shouldn’t be there.

Taking it as a sign that perhaps he considered the bench to be his property and didn’t want me trespassing, I took it as a sign to keep our interactions brief.

During a less-than-engaging lecture, I couldn't help but think back on what had happened earlier that week. I considered calling the police about the two men but talked myself out of it after deciding the woman must have done so already. Besides not being any of my business, I didn’t know what was going on. For all I knew, she might owe them money and was pretending I was her bodyguard or something.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone used me like that either. The handful of people I had thought were my friends in high school had been the same way. They had taken every opportunity to make me out to be a brute on their leash who would do whatever they wanted. By the time I realised what they had done, it was too late.

Half of the school had already believed I was a brutish psychopath just because of how I looked, so it didn’t take much ‘convincing’ for everyone else to believe the same.

I was a tool, something to be used and then discarded once I was no longer of value. That was the hard lesson I had learned from the experience. I was better off keeping myself to myself. All the same, it was difficult to fight my better nature.

Despite everything, I still wanted to help people. I had convinced myself for a long time that it was because I was a good person and that is what a good person would want to do. However, as I grew older it became more difficult to continue lying to myself. I didn’t help people because I thought it would make them like me, I helped them so they would leave me alone.

It was far better to be known as the ugly helpful idiot than... an ogre...

“Donkey!” Someone called out in a poor excuse for a Scottish accent.

Without looking, I could already tell that it was one of the teenage boys lurking in the back of the bus. So I did my best to ignore them.

“I said, Don-keh!” The boy repeated more insistently before snickering along with his friends.

“Fucking Shrek...” I muttered bitterly while increasing the volume on my phone and absently staring out the bus window. All the while doing my best to ignore my distorted reflection.

Ever since the first movie had come out everyone thought they would be the first to make the joke at the expense of my unfortunate appearance. The first few hundred times I had just tried to ignore it. However, when some people realised it bothered me, they would make a point of mentioning it where they knew I would hear it.

“You don’t belong here, you ugly piece of shit!” The pimpliest teen snickered, his voice cracking from fear as I glanced in his direction.

When it became obvious that I wasn’t going to attack them or retaliate in any way, the taunting continued and only grew worse. To stop myself from dying from second-hand cringe, I decided to get off the bus.

Turning the volume of my music back down again, I noticed that my neighbour from down the street had gotten off the bus as well.

She was doing her best to look busy on her phone, going through the motions of sending a text or browsing the internet.

Already irritable from having to put up with the dickheads on the bus, I wasn’t in the mood for playing at being her unwitting bodyguard. Instead of continuing along the bus route, I began heading for the nearby beach instead.

As I expected, my neighbour began to follow me, most likely thinking I was just taking a more straightforward route than the winding path the bus would usually take. However, even when it became obvious that I wasn’t heading home, she continued to follow me out onto the beach.

The sky was overcast and the clouds were only growing darker with each passing minute. Strong winds coming in from offshore were driving waves up and over the jagged rocks.

Unlike most of the beaches shown on postcards, this beach had a harsh transition between the bare rocks creeping out from the ocean and the dunes littered with sparse vegetation.

I had visited this beach all the time with my Mum before she became ill, and it was where I sought refuge from the world whenever I needed to think.

Walking down the dunes, I began heading for my favourite spot amongst the rocks.

Spotting what looked like a small child lying face down in the shallows. I threw aside my bag and ran toward the water.

It was my favourite beach, but it held considerable local notoriety for claiming the lives of unwary tourists.

Adrenaline pumping through my veins and blood pounding in my ears, I charged into the surf and toward the child.

Deathly pale and clothes tattered by the rocks, the small girl looked close to eleven years old. The disturbance caused by the waves caused her dark inky black hair to splay outward and conceal her face. But I could see several trails of blood in the water and couldn’t help but fear the worst.

Reaching into the water, I drew the small girl up into my arms as gently as I could manage and began charging back toward the shore.

“HEY!” The sudden screech caught me unprepared and I very nearly pitched face-first into the surf.

Looking toward the source of the noise, I reflexively dropped the small girl into the water before my conscious mind was able to process what had happened.

Feeling a second wave of panic overtake the first, I began fumbling through the agitated surf for the little girl.

“Do you have a habit of just grabbing people!” An indignant voice squeaked, drawing my attention to my left and the small pale-skinned girl treading water slightly out beyond my reach. “Uh uh, you keep your hands to yourself!” She warned and curled back her lips to reveal a mouthful of needle-like teeth behind the pitch-black hair plastering her face.

“I...I thought you were drowning...” I muttered defensively while backing away and raising my hands to try and show I meant no harm.

“Ironic,” the girl snickered, cocking her head to one side and staring at me intensely from behind her hair. “Because you know, you really shouldn’t be here, Tim.”

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 76 - In death's shadow - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 76 - In death's shadow - Part Two

Unable to contain the enormity of the energy entering her body, Momoko diverted a portion of her regenerating MP to fuel her physical growth and delve deeper into the heart of the mountain. As her roots took in raw materials, Momoko increased the girth of her trunk and branches, lacing them with trace minerals.

In addition to reinforcing her body, the trace minerals served as a medium to increase Momoko’s ability to store Chi in preparation for future needs.

Burrowing through the stone core of the mountain was a slow and laborious affair.

As if sensing her difficulties, Momoko received unexpected assistance from her older brother, Pete.

The knowledge and ability to cast Several Spells entered her mind.

Using the Shape Stone Spell, Momoko turned large stretches of stone to sand, allowing her roots to surge through the mountain with far greater speed.

As the storm continued to rage above them, Momoko cemented her dominion over the mountain.

Now able to process and store the majority of the incoming energy, Momoko focused on cycling the energy through her body and passing the refined energy along to her brother. Pete then refined the energy further and returned it.

Forming a small but complete circuit, they both gradually internalised the refined energy and used it to expand their respective foundations. Allowing them to draw in more refined energy. However, Momoko’s instincts warned her that there was a limit to how much energy they could internalise.

If they pushed themselves too far too quickly, Heart Demons would establish a foothold in their souls and do potentially irreparable damage.

Deactivating the Artefact, Momoko shifted her MP toward growing her branches and extending her root network beyond the mountain.

“Sister, stop,” Pete warned, breaking from his meditative trance.

Trusting in her brother, Momoko did as he asked. “What is wrong?” She asked, unsure what would give him cause for the sudden warning.

“There are beasts outside of the barrier,” Pete replied grimly. “I can’t make it bigger...”

“Barrier?” Momoko expanded her senses and was alarmed to find that her older brother was right. Thousands of Beasts were gathered just beyond the limits of her outermost roots and had churned up the earth in their attempts to draw closer to them.

“Father’s barrier...” Pete elaborated, his expression darkening with repressed sadness. “It keeps the Humans and others safe from wild Beasts. The Beasts can’t cross over it...”

“Oh...I don’t know that Spell...” Momoko murmured distractedly.

“Not a Spell,” Pete corrected neutrally, “Father’s authority.”

“Oh...” Momoko repeated, suddenly becoming aware of another set of senses she hadn’t known she possessed until that moment. “Could we make it bigger...No...nevermind...” She felt the answer make itself known to her the moment she considered it. “Could we make others?” Momoko didn’t feel the same resistance, but it wasn’t encouraging either. She tried not to feel too disappointed or frustrated.

Momoko had intended to increase her size until she possessed enough raw power to bring balance to their father’s internal energy. Being hemmed in by the barrier and the Beasts beyond it was an obstacle, but not an insurmountable one.

Even if their sister, Suzy, was given the same foundation, they would still lack the raw power they required. So, Momoko decided to change her plans accordingly.

If they couldn’t rely on raw power, then they would need to learn finesse.

“We need a teacher,” Momoko insisted, looking to her brother for answers.

Pete silently considered the request for a handful of seconds and then nodded to himself. “Father recruited Cultivators to teach us,” he paused and pointed to the west. “They are over there.”

Momoko expanded her senses further and eventually confirmed his words for herself. However, she was having extreme difficulties separating herself according to her two bodies, which was a problem if she wanted to travel by using her limited authority.

“Big brother, could you take us there?” Momoko asked somewhat awkwardly, “Just us I mean, and not my tree?”

Pete considered the question for a moment, blinked both sets of eyelids, and then nodded confidently. “I can do that,” he agreed. Pete closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath.

Momoko suddenly became aware of her two selves gaining a tremendous degree of distance from each other. Although it wasn’t painful, the sensation of such a separation was uniquely unpleasant and left her feeling a profound sense of anxiety. However, the gentle hand of her brother on her shoulder diminished that anxiety considerably.

The empty stone buildings and streets surrounding them did not remain empty for long.

Several men and women in matching clothing and armour had appeared in the distance shortly after Momoko and her brother’s arrival. However, they made no signs of intending to draw closer.

Each Cultivator's armour bore a large sigil bearing a bright white flower resembling a water lily and contained a small measure of Chi. It wasn’t enough to present a threat, but enough that Momoko couldn’t ignore it either.

The Cultivators possessed a higher stage of Cultivation but lacked the advantages Momoko and her brother shared, making them considerably weaker in terms of the volume of their internal energy.  Of course, they no doubt had Techniques to make better use of the internal energy they did have, so it would be unwise to dismiss them out of hand.

“The Faction Leader is coming,” Pete announced, looking down the large road and toward several approaching Cultivators Momoko could sense but not yet see. “They can’t hurt us,” Pete reassured her, squeezing her shoulders gently. “Father made them swear.”

Momoko nodded to show she understood and made an effort to calm herself.

Within a handful of minutes, the Faction Leader, accompanied by six elderly men and women, had arrived and immediately bowed their heads low in respect.

“I apologise for our rudeness,” the Faction Leader said earnestly. “I regret that I did not ask how those such as yourselves should be addressed...”

“Addressed?...” Pete rumbled slowly as if he were digesting the word to unlock its meaning.

“We are royalty,” Momoko interjected spiritedly. “Crown Prince and Princess are most fitting!” She tried not to sound overly excited, but it was a losing battle. The sometimes conflicting information in her head was in perfect agreement regarding the legitimacy and prestige of the titles.

“The Oba clan pays their respects to the Crown Prince and Princess of the Tyrant!” The Faction Leader and Cultivators, including those who remained at a distance, declared in near unison.

“Thank you,” Pete replied simply, directing his immediate attention to the Faction Leader. “My youngest sister says we need a teacher.” He spoke with his usual slow and deliberate pace, masking his discomfort with such long sentences with an almost perfect mask of impassivity.

The Faction Leader bowed and nodded in understanding. As if he had been expecting their arrival. Which he may have done, if her older brother’s earlier assertions were correct.

“Our grand elder, Oba Daigo, has been preparing dutifully to fulfil our obligations,” the Faction Leader asserted obediently. “Advanced age has lessened the grand elder’s mobility. However, the grand elder is the Oba clan’s most accomplished and worthy instructor in the path of Cultivation. I dare not presume to say the grand elder is worthy of providing the Crown Prince and Princess instruction. I only hope that the grand elder will prove himself in your eyes.” He bowed again, seemingly for good measure.

Pete looked to Momoko, leaving the decision up to her.

“Experience is more important than combat ability,” Momoko replied, reassuring her older brother. So long as the grand elder possessed the knowledge they required, or could learn and transfer that knowledge to them, his restricted mobility was of no concern.

The Faction Leader bowed once more for good measure and motioned respectfully back down the large road. “Then it would be my honour to escort the Crown Prince and Princess to the grand elder.”

Following behind the Faction Leader, Momoko held tight to her older brother’s hand, drawing comfort and reassurance from his steady heartbeat.

Easily more than twice Homoko’s size, her older brother had to slow his stride to avoid dragging her as he walked.

While most of the city was empty, the portion occupied by the Cultivators was as lively as a festival. At least, Homoko assumed that to be the case, having yet to experience a festival for a proper contrast. It was another inconsistency introduced by the conflicting information stored within her mind.

It came as little surprise to Momoko that her older brother received the overwhelming majority of the Cultivators' attention. Besides his immense size, Pete carried an unmistakable aura of command that demanded obedience from those around him.

What little attention Momoko received, made her feel increasingly uncomfortable. So it came as quite a relief when they left the crowds behind and entered a secluded garden hidden away within a high-walled courtyard.

“I beg your patience, highnesses, I will fetch the grand elder so he might attend to your needs,” the Faction Leader bowed respectfully and retreated out of the garden, taking the other Cultivators with him.

Releasing her brother’s hand, Momoko sat on a bench beneath a wizened cherry tree. Taking comfort in the welcoming aura of its nascent soul.

Pete strode into the small pond and laid down on his back, resting his shoulders on the muddy bank as he stared up at the sky. Without moving so much as a finger, he invested his Chi into the water and directed it over his otherwise dry and exposed skin. Little by little, the deepest tension lines in his face began to fade.

After a short wait, an elderly man in long dark robes supported by a sturdy wooden cane hobbled into the courtyard. His snow-white beard and moustache were cut short and his long wispy hair was pinned back with a ceremonial bone clasp. Deep wrinkles creased his face and his withered gnarled hands bore a closer resemblance to claws.

Yet, despite his obvious infirmities, the old man was still a Cultivator and a very powerful one at that. Momoko knew on an instinctual level that it would be dangerous to underestimate him. She also knew how she could make a favourable impression.

Cycling her Chi and MP, Momoko implored the nascent soul of the cherry tree for assistance.

Thrumming with joy, the cherry tree agreed.

“The grand elder of the Oba clan pays his respects to the Crown Prince and the Princess,” the old man, already bow-backed as he was, stiffly lowered his head in respect. His dark eyes, clouded by cataracts, widened as Pete emerged from the pond.

“Your eyes...” Pete rumbled distractedly, ignoring the greeting, or perhaps not having heard it to begin with. “They are so cloudy...Can you read?”

If the grand elder was upset by her older brother’s rudeness, he showed no signs of it and simply shook his head. “I must apologise to the Crown Prince. The years have taken a heavy toll despite my Cultivation and the best efforts of my family.”

“Hrm...” Pete gathered his MP and a split instant later, a Daemon had joined their conversation.

“Young master!” The rodent-like Daemon exclaimed in surprise, “How might I be of assistance?”

“Wraithe,” a small smile touched the corners of Pete’s lips. “Can you restore this man’s sight?” He asked, pointing a large finger toward the grand elder.

Wraithe circled the elderly man and considered him with intense interest. “Replacing the eyes would be simplest...Carry the fewest risks...” The Daemon muttered thoughtfully, wringing her long-clawed fingers with mild anxiety. “However, regrowing the lenses would be the least invasive...”

“Pardon, highness, I do not understand?” The grand elder apologised, baulking slightly under the Daemon’s intense scrutiny.

“Wraithe will fix your eyes,” Pete explained calmly. “Allow you to read again.”

“Ah...” The grand elder didn’t seem to know how to react. Which was reasonable considering the position he was in.

“The procedure will be mostly harmless,” Wraithe reassured the grand elder while taking a much closer look at his eyes. “Cutting off the nerves would make the procedure painless, but also take longer. I have also been told that it is a uniquely unpleasant experience feeling the nerves being reattached afterwards...”

“I am unfamiliar with the healing arts...” The grand elder admitted, somewhat taken aback. “Are you a physician?”

“I am a Surgeon,” Wraithe replied with a considerable degree of pride. “I attend to the Tyrant himself when he needs me.”

“Oh!” The grand elder’s surprise quickly gave way to immense gratitude. “I am honoured to have earned such consideration!”

“Yes yes,” Wraithe waved aside the implied flattery dismissively. “My time is limited and I will require an answer. Under normal circumstances, I would more fully explain the risks and methods involved in each procedure. However, this projection lacks the mana to fulfil such an obligation in addition to performing the required procedure. So, I urge you to make a decision.”

The grand elder nodded in understanding and furrowed his wrinkled brow as he considered his options. “I am not afraid of pain. It is an old friend. If I am to serve the Tyrant and his dynasty to the best of my abilities, I would ask you to restore my sight by the most guaranteed means.”

Wraithe huffed in approval, twitching her whiskers briefly before nodding to herself. “Alright then, replacements it is-”

“The cherries will help with the pain,” Momoko volunteered. She had copied the fruits from one of her mother’s trees and had intended to present them as a gift.

The Daemon plucked a cherry from the tree and nibbled at it with her large chisel-like teeth. “Possesses...pain suppressant and anti-inflammatory properties...Well done, mistress, most impressive.” She plucked a handful from the tree and pressed them into the grand elder’s hands. “Consume these, now, and be sure to chew them thoroughly without biting down on the seeds.”

The grand elder humbly did as he was commanded.

Then, without warning, Wraithe took hold of the grand elder’s arm with one hand and seized his head in the other.

Demonstrating considerable bravery, the grand elder remained silent as his aged eyes atrophied and slipped free of their sockets. It wasn’t until Wraithe released him and the grand elder opened his eyelids that he cried out for the first time.

“I can see!” The grand elder proclaimed with borderline manic excitement, his vivid green eyes flashing with the vitality and wonder of a young child. However, his excitement ebbed quite suddenly as he stared at his gnarled and swollen knuckled hands.

After determining the grand elder’s vision had been restored to her satisfaction, Wraithe disappeared.

“Highness, you have my undying gratitude for your act of kindness,” the grand elder bowed his head, demonstrating a greater degree of flexibility than he had only a few minutes prior.

Momoko felt a profound sense of pride in that fact.

Pete shrugged indifferently, probably made uncomfortable with receiving the compliment and not knowing what to say in reply.

“Teaching us what we need will be more than enough,” Momoko interjected, earning a grateful smile from her older brother.

“It will be my greatest honour to serve as your instructor, Highnesses.” the grand elder bowed again, this time with a little less formality. “If I may ask? Do your Highnesses have a specific subject or target of curiosity in mind?”

Momoko knew what she needed, but she didn’t know what the Technique would be called. “We need a Technique that can share and balance internal energy,” she explained while suppressing her fears that the elderly Cultivator would guess at their motivations. Undermining their father’s position was the last thing she wanted to happen.

“That...is an incredibly advanced...and dangerous, Technique,” the grand elder cautioned diplomatically. “For most Cultivators, the act of sharing energy is considered quite difficult-” His voice caught in his throat and his eyes widened in surprise as he realised Momoko had initiated such an exchange with her older brother. “-Of course, talented individuals such as yourselves may see things differently...”

“The danger is why we need you,” Momoko explained, already aware of her limitations. “This is as easy as breathing,” an irony given that she didn’t, strictly speaking, need to breathe at all.

“I see...” The grand elder replied, still visibly shocked by their display of aptitude in manipulating energy and Chi.

Momoko felt the grand elder’s perception sweep over herself and her older brother.

“And such solid foundations...” The grand elder chuckled softly and shook his head. “I should have expected as much from a Monarch’s descendants.” With a stiff wave of his hand, a leather-backed book was withdrawn from the depths of his soul. “The Malevolent Soul Transmission Technique, despite its intimidating name, would also allow a benevolent exchange of internal energy, assuming it is performed with a high degree of proficiency.”

“Then you will teach us this Technique!” Momoko insisted eagerly.

The grand elder held up one hand, imploring patience. “I am sorry, but I must insist upon a certain degree of patience. This Technique is incredibly dangerous and requires a spirit refining Technique to mitigate the greatest risks.”

“Then teach us this second Technique,” Pete demanded flatly.

“Of course,” the grand elder agreed, “I will be only too happy to teach your Highnesses a spirit-refining Technique once I have obtained the necessary resources, I must humbly beg for your patience while arrangements are being made.”

“What materials?” Pete asked, refusing to let the matter go.

The grand elder deflated somewhat. “I will be honest with Your Highness, the Oba clan’s stores of Cultivation materials and medicines are severely depleted. The herbalists are confident that the first crop of medicinal herbs will be ready within five weeks, and that rarer herbs can be obtained from the wilds-”

“Show me the fields!” Momoko demanded, hopping spritely to her feet.

“Of course, Highness,” the grand elder dipped his head respectfully and motioned toward the northern entrance to the courtyard.

Surveying the fields of medicinal herbs and exotic vegetation, Momoko was inclined to agree with the herbalists' estimates. Without an array to draw in and concentrate the ambient energies, those tending to the fields were forced to do their best to emulate the process.

However, waiting five weeks was unacceptable.

Gathering her Chi and MP, Momoko enveloped the closest of the fields in her spirit.

The vegetation soaked in her Chi and mana, growing at an unbelievably accelerated rate, accomplishing months of growth in a handful of seconds.

The effect was amplified further when her older brother lent his strength to hers, providing additional Chi and MP, allowing Momoko to cover another field.

Separated from her other self, Momoko knew better than to push herself beyond her limits and left herself with roughly a third of her established capacity in reserve.

“I...I had never dared to presume to witness such an event with my own eyes...” The grand elder breathed hoarsely in amazement. “To exercise such control over the Wood Affinity while so young...it is indeed a humbling experience...”

“Can you teach us now?” Pete asked somewhat impatiently. Frowning slightly as he watched the herbalists begin to harvest the fields with immense care.

“The materials still need to be processed-” The grand elder began to explain but was abruptly cut off as the Alchemist Jin appeared in front of him.

Seemingly just as surprised as the grand elder, Jin leapt back several paces in one bound and looked around the area in alarm. After spotting Momoko, he appeared to relax.

“You will help prepare the materials,” Pete commanded, pointing to the grand elder and then to the herbalists in the fields. “Tell Jin what to do.”

“Ah, of course...” Jin replied nervously, “However, may I return to my workshop first? I was in the middle of a rather volatile experiment...”

Pete grunted in the affirmative and Jin disappeared. “Jin is an Alchemist,” he stated bluntly using an explanation.

“Ah...” The grand elder didn’t seem to know what to say but appeared quite impressed. “I am not familiar with this Technique...”

“Father’s Technique,” Pete lied, bending the truth to conceal his use of authority and making it clear through his tone that he would not appreciate further inquiries.

Taking the hint, the grand elder shifted topics. “I know of two spirit-refining Techniques, that suit your Highnesses unique Affinities-” He smiled and seemed bemused by the statement. “I must apologise, it is every instructor's dream to have a hand in teaching such gifted students.”

“Thank you,” Momoko beamed, gladdened to receive such unsolicited praise.

“Two Techniques?” Pete pressed, returning focus to the primary subject of the conversation.

“Ah, yes, the Tranquil-Waves Refinement Technique and the Immolating-Soul Refinement Technique. Of course, each has its strengths and weaknesses. However, Tranquil-Waves is perhaps better suited to your needs,” the grand elder explained patiently. “Besides increasing your ability to replenish Chi, the Tranquil-Waves also allow increased absorption rate of special medicines and Elixirs when consumed in liquid form. Additionally, while I cannot confirm as much for certain, the Water Affinity will likely enhance this effect.”

“And the other one?” Pete pressed.

The grand elder hesitated. “The Immolating-Soul Refinement Technique produces faster results. However, it carries unavoidable risks relating to overstraining the spirit. The Cultivator I took this Technique from did not have a natural Fire Affinity. So I am uncertain how the Affinity would influence the primary effects...”

“What do spirit refining Techniques do?” Momoko asked, confused by the unexpected gap in her inherited knowledge.

“In their simplest terms?” The grand elder pondered the question for a few moments before arriving at an answer. “A spirit refining Technique serves a similar purpose to breathing Techniques, except the process draws upon your internal energy rather than the ambient energy surrounding us. Replenishing Chi and accelerating the recovery of the body rather than developing and building upon your internal energy.”

“Why do we need it?” Momoko asked. “If it doesn’t increase or reinforce our internal energy, how is it supposed to help?”

The grand elder smiled patiently and nodded in understanding. “Spirit refining Techniques are typically associated with combat. However, they also provide the means to prolong or intensify the effects of certain pills and Elixirs. Bolstering the soul through the use of special medicines reduces the risks of the Malevolent Soul Transmission Technique. Which is why I must insist upon learning the spirit refining Technique first.”

“Makes sense,” Pete agreed with a grunt of impatience.

“What about body refining Techniques?” Momoko asked, committed to making the most of their opportunity. “What Techniques can you teach us?”

The grand elder was slightly taken aback. “The Tyrant entrusted an extensive number of Technique manuals to our clan’s safekeeping,” he hedged while better considering her question. “To my knowledge, there are twenty-six body refining Techniques, many of which would synergise with one or more Affinities.”

“Father will want guidance,” Pete commented introspectively before directing his attention back toward the grand elder. “What body refining Technique would make me strongest?”

“Forgiveness, Highness, it is a complicated question and has many potential answers...” The grand elder hedged. “Certain Techniques would benefit more from a combination of Affinities than others, and brute strength is not necessarily superior to enhanced agility, perception or insight...It very much depends upon the individual and their personal talents.”

“What about...durability?” Pete pressed.

“Durability?” The grand elder repeated.

“Resistance to physical harm,” Pete reiterated, ennunciating each syllable with deliberate care.

“Several Techniques come to mind,” the grand elder volunteered. “Although, the most effective Techniques require enduring considerable pain to achieve their mastery.”

“Father doesn’t fear pain,” Pete replied darkly, confusing the grand elder.

“If pain is not a consideration, the Crucible Of One Thousand Blades would provide an immense degree of resilience to physical forms of attack...” The grand elder answered hesitantly. “However, the training regimen borders on suicide. Mastery of the Technique requires an initiate to accept strikes from an opponent's blade against their bare unprotected flesh...”

Pete remained undeterred, which Momoko found rather upsetting. “What about a technique for my big brother?” She asked, wanting to change the subject. “Something that won’t get him killed.”

“With all due respect, Princess, no body-tempering Technique is without risk. However, I understand your intentions and would suggest the Jade Mountain Reinforcement Technique, which provides resistance against physical and spiritual attacks, and a measure of increased Strength., alternatively, the Heart of Celestial Waters Technique, which provides considerable resistance to spiritual attacks and increased Agility and speed. Each has their strengths and would benefit from one or more of His Highness’ Affinities.”

“Techniques would increase stats?” Pete asked, confused by the grand elder’s explanation and reminding Momoko that he was not born with the same knowledge that she had been taking for granted.

“I will speak with my big brother alone,” Momoko declared, seizing Pete’s hand with both of her own and dragging him back toward the courtyard so they could speak in private.

The grand elder bowed respectfully. He watched them leave for a few moments and then turned his attention toward the excited herbalists in the fields.

Momoko waited until her big brother had made himself comfortable in the pond again before explaining.

“Big brother, Techniques are like Abilities. Some are simple and will make you faster or stronger, giving Momentum or something like that. Understand?” Momoko asked, wanting to be sure her brother understood before moving on to the next subject.

Pete slowly nodded.

“Body tempering Techniques are much stronger and often have a passive and an active set of Abilities. Depending on the Technique, the active Ability might be a strengthened version of the passive effect, or it could be something else entirely...”Momoko paused for a few moments to scan through her imprinted knowledge base and provide an example. “The Iron Body Tempering Technique, which is common knowledge to most Cultivators-” She assumed, considering its fundamentally basic nature. “-provides resistance to damage by passively increasing the Toughness of the practitioner concerning their reserves of internal energy. The higher their mastery of the Technique, and the more internal energy they have, the more Toughness stat they gain. But the Technique also has an active component, allowing the practitioner to spend Chi to close their wounds and expel poisons and venoms from their body. Did this explanation help?”

Pete nodded slightly but it was obvious that he still had questions. “How do you find internal energy numbers?” He asked anxiously. “I can’t see them.”

“Oh...” Momoko felt a rush of embarrassment. “It is represented by your Ranks in the Eternal Tau, big brother.”

“Hmm...” Pete frowned and slowly drew together his brow in confusion. “The number is the same as my Chi?” He asked uncertainly.

“It can be,” Momoko replied supportively. “But special treasures can change that number. So it’s not always accurate to judge it that way.” Her other body had access to a substantial volume of externally stored Chi. It was less readily accessible during a fight and wouldn’t carry Affinities without special preparation, but was otherwise no different to the Chi stored within both of her selves.

“Oh...” Pete’s frown intensified and then faded away. “If they are so powerful, why not learn more than one body tempering Technique?” He asked curiously.

“Not all Techniques are compatible, and body tempering only works when it has no competition...” Momoko hadn’t been sure of the answer until he had asked the question, so she decided to continue thinking the problem through. “But sometimes, you can develop a new Technique. Most of the advanced Techniques were made by combining basic Techniques through trial and error. Which can easily prove to be fatal...”

Pete nodded, accepting her explanation without contest. Demonstrating a profound degree of trust in her words. “Otherwise, Chi is just MP?”

“Chi is just MP,” Momoko agreed with a grin.

“But what about Affinities?” Pete asked. “He said different Affinities fit better with different Techniques?”

“It’s not complicated,” Momoko replied reassuringly. “Just think about how having increased control over water might prove useful if you cast an ice Spell or something like that. You could make it suddenly change shape, or size, or move unpredictably.”

“Makes sense...” Pete agreed distractedly, stepping back a step just in time to narrowly avoid being tackled to the ground by his twin.

Suzy had appeared from nowhere, using authority to travel just as they had done.

“Pete being bad!” Suzy growled. “Making Mama sad!”

Pete scowled darkly, but there was a look of hurt in his eyes. “I am helping Father!” He growled defensively.

“Running away!” Suzy accused with a sneer. “Pete always run!”

Pete’s confidence wavered. “I am doing my part...”

“Bleh!” Suzy stuck out her tongue in disgust and levelled her gaze on Homoko. “Why you here?” She demanded bluntly, her eyes glimmering with a desire for violence. “You take Pete?” Despite the clumsiness of her words, there was no escaping or overlooking the unmistakable threat carried in her voice.

Less than half her older sister’s size, and nowhere close to being as physically gifted, Momoko chose to run first and try to explain herself later.

***** Amun ~ The Hive ~ Antioch’s Realm *****

Amun stood in the centre of the hall of judgement and patiently awaited the inevitable. He had failed in his duties several times over and there was only one punishment that would meet the severity of his crimes.

Death.

Amun had witnessed only one such execution in his life and had never expected to meet such a fate himself. However, after reflecting upon his actions, he knew that he would have only done one thing differently.

The codes of honourable engagement as decreed by the ancestor had been followed to the best of his ability. It was Amun’s personal failings, lowering his guard on the cusp of victory, that had earned him this fate.

Failing to protect his mate and personal charge was a mortal sin, and Amun would offer no excuses for his failure.

Amun took what solace he could in the fact that his adversary had all but proven himself as an omega candidate. It was his sincere hope that another member of the warrior caste would succeed where he had failed, and capture the candidate for closer inspection.

Increased activity from the workers scuttling in the shadows announced the approach of a Norn Queen.

Already standing at attention, Amun remained perfectly still, blending his dark carapace into the deep shadows of the chamber. He knew it would not hide him from the Norn Queen’s notice, but there was no point in deliberately antagonising the Norn Queen either. Drawing needless attention to himself in such circumstances would only invite further trouble.

Rather than pass through the chamber, the Norn Queen, protected by a shield of living bodies, made her way to an observation alcove.

As best as Amun could guess, the Norn Queen was one of Kema’s mentors and had come to witness his execution to satisfy a desire for justice.

Minutes passed in silence before members of the soldier caste began forming orderly ranks around the periphery of the chamber. Any soldier not explicitly commanded to perform other duties would attend the ceremony. To watch as Amun was taken apart, piece by piece in payment for his failure.  To serve as a reminder.

As time continued to pass, larger and more venerated members of his caste took up positions against the far walls. The eldest, and largest, were more than four times his size. Their chitinous shells were scarred with echoes of battles fought in their youth. Battles that carved out the borders that would form the Dominion.

Centuries-old, each of the venerated elders had seen more combat than thousands of their younger kin combined. An honour Amun would never earn.

Suppressing his disappointment, Amun could hear the muted clicking and clacking of the assembled warriors' whispers.

Without a connection formed by a Norn, they had to resort to primitive signals and speech to communicate. However, with so many warriors conversing simultaneously, Amun couldn't understand anything that was being said. Anything besides the same words that were repeated over and over again with such repetition that it was impossible for him not to notice.

Failure...Disgrace...Execution...

If it was allowed, Amun would have long since removed his head to end his shame. To do so now would only bring greater shame, not only upon himself but the warrior caste itself.

So, Amun bore his shame with what little grace and dignity he could gather and awaited his judgement.

The Justiciar was the eldest of all the warrior caste and stood so tall that he nearly scraped the ceiling with the top of his head. Were it not for the efforts of the workers, expanding the hall to accommodate his size with each passing year, he would have done so long ago.

Carapace gilt with gold and encrusted with priceless jewels, the Justiciar was not only the oldest and highest appointed member of the warrior caste. He was also Consort Primaris to the council of Norn Queens. The progenitor of many across all castes.

If the legends were true, the Justiciar was older than any of the living members of the Hive. A hatchling from the founding and a witness to the majesty of The Creator.

Through his mere presence, the Justiciar imposed immediate and absolute silence upon the chamber.

“Duty and honour.” The two words effortlessly carried through the chamber and stirred the hearts of the warrior caste. “These words and what they represent, have incredible power,” the Justiciar spoke with practised ease, pacing every rhythmic breath to allow for uninterrupted speech. “Duty provides us with purpose and honour compels obedience. Without them, we are lost. Doomed to endure the suffering of the lesser Species. Forever mewling and stumbling about in search of purpose and direction.” The Justiciar raised his arms toward the ceiling in open supplication. “Through The Creator, we have unity. We have a purpose!”

Amun became confused, unfamiliar with the divergence taking place in what was ordinarily a predictable procedure of events.

“For generations, we have pursued our mandated purpose with diligence and dignity. Enduring failure with boundless grace and humility...” The Justiciar paused, lowering his arms and slowly panning his gaze over the assembled members of his caste. “Warrior Amun fought with honour against a worthy foe. Yet he failed to protect a Norn, failed to uphold his duty.”

Amun felt the collective weight of every warrior's gaze bearing down on him and prepared himself for the end.

“However...” The word cut through the oppressive silence like a scything talon, drawing all eyes from Amun and back to the Justiciar. “Warrior Amun’s actions have confirmed the presence of THE omega candidate, and such an act in service to The Creator will not go unrewarded or unrecognised!”

Clacks, chitters and clicks erupted around the chamber but were brought to an immediate end as the Justiciar stared them down.

“In recognition of his contributions in prosecuting The Creator’s will, warrior Amun will lead the vanguard to seize the omega subject.” The Justiciar pulled a sharp pointed diamond from its carapace and carefully drove it into the chitin covering Amun’s brain.

The diamond passed through his chitin with effortless ease and punctured the soft flesh beneath.

Staring into the eyes of the Justiciar, Amun realised that his execution would continue, just not as he had expected. Surrendering himself to the inevitable, Amun welcomed his death.

A pulse of mana passed through the diamond and Amun ceased to be.

***** Albert ~ Ghelk City ~ Former city of the Confederacy *****

Standing atop the outermost wall of the human city, Albert couldn’t help but stare at the distant war camps on the horizon.

The human world was far larger than he could ever have imagined.

Unfortunately, there were many times more humans as well.

Albert wouldn’t know the exact numbers until the Scouts returned, but he could see well enough through the long tube of his farseeing glass to know that the seventh legion was severely outnumbered.

Possessing defensive works and higher terrain would count for something, but the humans had brought a staggering number of Slaves. They possessed so many Slaves, that Albert was confident that the humans would be able to deplete the seventh legion’s ammunition stores and still have Slaves left over.

Making matters worse, more human armies were arriving with each passing hour and entrenching their respective positions. Hemming in the seventh legion and denying any chance of leaving the city.

It came as a small comfort that the seventh legion’s standing orders had been to fortify and hold the city. Sallying out against such odds would have been outright suicidal.

Stepping down from the wall, Albert decided to take his mind off of the dangers outside by performing an inspection of his men.

Performing a headcount, while his men stood at attention, Albert realised that several troopers were missing. Even accounting for the losses sustained when taking the city, the numbers didn’t add up.

With Six and Eleven on his heels, Albert performed a thorough search of the abandoned buildings that served as the barracks for his men.

Finding no trace of them, Albert began expanding his search.

Growing increasingly concerned that the humans had secret means of entering the city at their leisure, Albert struggled to keep his paranoia in check. However, as he drew closer to the outdoor prison containing the captured humans, his paranoia turned to disgust and anger.

A handful of troopers standing outside of an abandoned building bolted at his approach, leaving several rifles standing upright against the wall of the building.

Pitiful pleading and pain-filled moans came from the broken windows of the building, accompanied by deeper primal grunting.

“These troopers have abandoned their posts...” Albert muttered hoarsely, fighting hard to suppress his rage. “Arrest them...”

“Sir!” Six and Eleven barked in immediate reply, readying their weapons and preparing to enter the building.

“Kill any trooper that resists!” Albert snarled, seizing the rifles by the door and binding them together by their straps.

Every rifle bore a serial code that could be matched to the trooper it was entrusted to. Two of the rifles belonged to troopers who had fled, the remainder belonged to those within.

Albert would issue a warrant for those who had escaped but doubted they would be found unless he offered up some sort of reward in exchange. The near-identical appearance of the troopers made it possible to dodge such investigations with disturbing frequency. However, a trooper's desire for recognition and fast-tracked citizenship was a powerful tool.

Eight troopers, bound at the neck and in varying states of undress, marched awkwardly out of the building with Six and Eleven following closely behind.

“Why are you not at your posts?!” Albert hissed angrily.

The troopers cowed but said nothing.

“This is a dereliction of duty!” Albert seethed, his mind racing as he tried to determine how far he could stretch the law.

Depending upon the severity of the infraction, the punishment could be as little as several lashes on the skin of their backs.

Looking through one of the broken windows, Albert made his decision.

Drawing his sabre, Albert swept the blade through the first trooper's jugular.

Their victims were human, an ancient enemy of his people.

He drove the point of his sabre through the next three trooper’s throats with one thrust.

Just because the humans were murderous barbarians, it did not mean they should sink to the humans’ level.

The remaining four troopers attempted to run but were shot in the back by Six and Eleven.

“Attempting to evade lawful arrest,” Six announced impartially and began reloading his rifle.

“Bolted the moment they hit the street,” Eleven commented with a shrug as he did the same. “Should we clean this up?” He asked, kicking at the dead troopers.

Albert grunted in the affirmative.

All at once, he realised what he had done.

“Oh shit...” Albert swore under his breath, wincing as he looked at the trooper bodies littering the street. He could be demoted for this.

Unless...

Albert spun on his heel and began briskly walking in the direction of their field headquarters. Making sure to keep the bundle of rifles tightly pinned beneath his arm.

Rehearsing a more favourable and provocative series of events in his mind, Albert believed he was as prepared as he could expect to be.

Entering the large stone building that served as the field headquarters, Albert approached the General’s command station, saluted and stood at attention. Without urgent news to report, he would be expected to remain this way until the General saw fit to address him.

“Captain? Why are you not with your men?” The General demanded, his dark orange eyes narrowing in an open show of dislike.

“Sir!” Albert made a fresh salute, just for good measure and was relieved when the old General relaxed somewhat. “I was performing a routine inspection of my men, in preparation for a potential enemy attack, and discovered several troopers were missing.”

“Missing?” The General repeated, his eyes hardening and ears stiffening almost immediately. “They didn’t try to desert, did they?” He growled quietly.

“Not as such, sir,” Albert presented the bundle of rifles but didn’t set them on the war table. “I found them indulging their carnal desires using human prisoners. Having abandoned their posts and leaving us potentially vulnerable to a counterattack while in dereliction of their duties!”

“Thinblooded scum!” The General hissed venomously under his breath before rounding on Albert again. “What did you do with them?!” He demanded.

“Several troopers fled before I could question them and confirm their identities and eight others raised their hands against me as my seconds and I attempted to apprehend them,” Albert explained while taking care to remain one step lower in intensity than the General. “We had no choice but to execute them on the spot.”

“Yes...” The General nodded in understanding, “Yes, we can’t have troublemakers returning and fomenting revolt in the ranks!”

‘I agree sir!” Albert nodded seriously, his face a mask of concern. “And to stop such an event from recurring, I would like to volunteer as warden.”

The General appeared surprised by the request and gave Albert an appraising look. “I hope you do not take offence, Captain, but I had you pegged as a social climber.”

“No offence taken, General,” Albert bowed his head respectfully. “I have a mother and three siblings at home to support. While I would never pass up a promotion, our mission is too important to jeopardise for the sake of potential advancement.” He took a deliberate pause and made sure to look disappointed. “I know there is more glory in serving a post on the walls. But If I can prevent more troopers from falling to indolence, then I will have made a far greater contribution to our inevitable victory. Keeping a few hundred troopers' rifles pointed in the right direction may prove to be exactly what we need in the battles ahead.”

The elderly General smiled and nodded approvingly. “You're a good sort, Captain?”

“Monet, my General,” Albert supplied helpfully, “Albert, Monet.”

“Very good, Captain Monet. Effective immediately, I am assigning you the post as a warden over our prisoners of war,” The General scribbled a note down on his ledger and then gave Albert a crisp salute. “See that you give them no quarter,” he insisted, “Troopers and humans both!”

Albert returned the General’s salute and crisply nodded in the affirmative. “You can be sure of it, General. I will not let you down.”

Leaving the field office, Albert briskly jogged down the cobbled street so he could reunite with his bodyguards and explain the extent of their new duties. Leaving them behind had left him vulnerable, but Albert suspected that the General would have had far more probing questions for the two troopers if they had been present.

All things considered, and provided he made it back to his bodyguards in one piece, Albert thought things had gone rather well.

At least for the time being, the crisis caused by his impulsive actions had been averted.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 76 - In death's shadow - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 76 - In death's shadow - Part One

Staring at his reflection on the lake’s surface, Pete struggled to process the maelstrom of emotions warring inside of his heart.

From the first day he had learned to read, Pete had become aware that his father’s absences were motivated by necessity and not by personal desire. Learning the importance of the numbers on his father’s Status information had given Pete peace of mind. Peace of mind that came from the understanding that his father was practically invincible.

Even after watching his father’s HP and MP deteriorate, Pete had convinced himself that his father would somehow come out on top. That he would return victorious, just as he always had before.

Sensing his father’s return, Pete had exercised his nascent authority to silence the doubts within his mind.

He was ashamed to admit as much, but Pete now wished he hadn’t.

The memory of his father’s broken bleeding body was more than he could bear.

Learning that his father’s wounds had been healed did not banish the memory from Pete’s mind. In some respects, it had only made things worse.

No matter the injury, his father had managed to bounce back and return to the peak of health within a matter of hours, if not minutes. However, two days had already passed and his father showed no signs of waking up.

Pete couldn’t help but notice how the adults would stop speaking in his presence, hiding what they knew of his father’s condition. Leaving Pete’s fears and doubts to fester.

As much as his mother tried to hide it, Pete recognised the same fear had taken hold in her eyes as well.

Collapsing into the lake, Pete rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky.

Everything within this world would one day be his. It was a possibility his father had discussed on several occasions. Except it had always been about a distant hypothetical rather than an imminent responsibility.

Following in his father’s footsteps had been something Pete had accepted as a matter of course. However, now that the provisional authority of the realm had settled on his shoulders, he realised he was far from prepared to shoulder the immense burden and responsibility.

For the first time in his life, Pete felt incredibly small and vulnerable.

Moving his arms and legs out of reflex, Pete slowly travelled deeper into the lake, seeking the darkness of the depths so he could hide from the world and wait for his father’s return.

Alone in the darkness, Pete paid no attention to the passage of time, actively attempting to lose himself in a dreamless slumber.

Sensing one of the Daemons attempting to connect to his mind, Pete rebuffed them.

When the attempt was repeated, only with greater urgency, Pete begrudgingly allowed the connection to take hold.

<Big brother?> The voice was quiet and gentle, lending a small yet entirely unexpected degree of comfort.

Opening his eyes, Pete found himself staring into the small earnest face of his youngest sister, Momoko. They had met only once before, but Pete could sense the kinship they shared. A bond that was only slightly less strong than he held with twin, Suzy.

Believing himself undeserving of comfort, Pete closed his eyes and tried to shut out the connection.

<Listen to Momoko?> Momoko asked quietly. <Can help?> She insisted with gentle yet surprisingly intense resolve.

<Help? How?> Pete replied gloomily, resenting his sister for disturbing his isolation.

<Bring Momoko to mountain-> The image of a massive mountain was shared through their connection and Pete could feel his sister’s intense longing and underlying need to return there. <-help to grow. Help Momoko help Daddy.>

Pete’s malaise retreated by several degrees as his mind snapped into intense focus. <Help Father?> He demanded, pressing his sister for answers.

Momoko nodded vigorously, causing her hair to swirl and sway in the water around them. <Spirit weak. Needs new growth...> She scrunched up her small face and shook her head, seemingly unsatisfied with her choice of words. <Needs support. Needs shared strength?...> Momoko appeared somewhat frustrated at not knowing the right words to communicate her intent.

Images of a tree being struck by lightning flashed through Pete’s mind.

<Lightning. Power. Share with Daddy. Restore spirit...> Momoko had scrunched up her face and pressed her forefingers against her temples to concentrate her thoughts.

<Restore father’s spirit...> Pete rolled the thought through his mind, unsure why he was so ready to trust in his newly hatched sister’s words.

<Brother take Momoko to mountain?> Momoko repeated with surprising clarity. Her thoughts had been gaining coherence and fluency with each exchange, but the sudden leap was somewhat alarming.

<Why me?> Pete asked, only to recognise the answer immediately afterwards.

She needed his authority to navigate the disconnected and isolated territories of the realm.

Momoko nodded and smiled, her eyes flashing with dangerous intensity.

Focusing on the image of the mountain in his mind, Pete pictured himself and his sister standing on the cold dirt and stones atop the peak.

Just as Pete willed it, his command became reality.

“Young master?” A rasping voice called out in surprise, drawing Pete’s attention toward a tall, gaunt and bat-winged Daemon perched atop one of the larger boulders.

“Garn,” Pete acknowledged the Daemon’s presence with a curt nod.

“If I may ask?” Garn crawled down from the boulder on all fours, presenting himself before Pete on even ground. “What purpose has brought the young master and mistress to this place?”

Momoko ignored the question and began making her way toward a blackened patch of earth and a burnt stump at its centre.

“To heal father...” Pete replied quietly, still following his youngest sister’s progress across the mountain.

Garn’s wings twitched excitedly and his clawed hand tightened around the artefact left in his safekeeping. ‘How may I assist you?!” The Daemon asked earnestly.

Unsure of the details of Momoko’s plan, Pete remained silent.

Having arrived at the blackened stump, Momoko fell to her knees and wrapped her arms as best as she was able around the remains of the trunk.

Drawing closer to investigate what his little sister was up to, Pete was taken aback upon discovering she was crying.

Had their intended plan failed already? What part had the tree been required to play?

“The mistress was hatched from a fruit born of the tree,” Garn explained quietly, guessing at the source of Pete's confusion. “The tree passed shortly before the mistress hatched...”

“Oh...” Pete didn’t know what to say. Already wrestling with the possibility of his father’s death, Pete felt a profound sense of empathy for her loss. However, his feelings quickly turned to alarm when Momoko suddenly disappeared without warning.

Moving closer to investigate, Pete suddenly had to scramble away again as the earth beneath his feet began to tremble and shake violently.

The blackened stump disintegrated as a new sapling surged out of the dirt and began growing at a tremendous pace.

Suppressing his panic, Pete could sense the mana fueling the tree’s growth. He became somewhat confused upon discovering that the tree was both the source and recipient of the mana.

After a handful of minutes, the tree’s growth came to an abrupt end and Momoko reappeared, sitting at the base of the trunk, her eyes still puffy from her tears.

“Sister...” Pete closed the distance between them with a few quick strides, lifted her into his arms, and hugged her tightly.

Despite possessing the proportions of a Human, Momoko returned his embrace with deceptively intense Strength and vigour.

Some time later, Momoko pulled away and Pete set her back down on the ground. As he did so, Pete became confused after realising his youngest sister had appeared to have grown nearly twice her original height without him noticing until this moment.

Furthermore, Momoko appeared to have not only grown taller but somewhat older as well. By no means an adult, she shared the slim lanky build Pete had come to recognise as belonging to the older children who were half a year old. Or, in the Human’s odd frame of reference, around twelve years old.

“Thank you, big brother,” Momoko’s smile radiated a profound and undeniable sincerity.

Pete shrugged bashfully and stared pointedly at the tree behind her. “This tree is you?” He asked, wanting to confirm what his authority already claimed was true.

Momoko nodded and placed one hand against the trunk of the tree, “I am the tree, but the tree is also me,” she amended without a trace of guile or humour. “We are of two bodies, but one soul...Or...It is the body and I am the soul?...” Momoko frowned slightly and seemed to grow distracted by her own thoughts.

“A Dryad?” Pete asked uncertainly. He had reviewed his sister’s Status and knew she was not a Dryad, but Momoko’s explanation fit what he knew of Hana and her sister.

Momoko scrunched up her face as she considered her reply. “It is not entirely different...” She hedged. “But mother and auntie do not share their senses in the same way...It is difficult to explain...”

Pete nodded to show he understood. He had encountered several instances while watching and learning from the Daemons and other monsters within Sanctuary. Not all monsters share the same extraordinary senses. Each had their strengths and limitations, and some had unique advantages.

Momoko turned to look at Garna and held out her hands expectantly. “I need those,” she pointed to the magical hood on his shoulders and the staff in his hands.

Garn appears momentarily taken aback. However, after considering Momoko’s demand, he surrendered both items without complaint.

Smiling in gratitude, Momoko took the items to her tree and threw them up into its branches. Instead of tumbling back down to the ground, the hood and staff were caught by two large spindly hands formed from the tree’s branches.

The storm clouds overhead began to grow darker and rumbled ominously.

As the rain began to fall, Pete could feel the tree circulating mana and Chi simultaneously, drawing, spending and generating both resources in a dizzying and repetitive cycle.

Momoko slowly and somewhat stiffly walked away from her tree. The distracted look in her eyes suggested that whatever it was the tree was doing required a certain degree of her concentration to continue. “Big brother, has Daddy shown you how to Cultivate with breathing techniques?” Momoko asked earnestly.

Pete nodded and used his authority to conjure a leather book. One of several books gifted from his father, the leather pages of the book were made by the Daemons to be entirely waterproof, and a reactive glowing ink impregnated into the leather allowed its contents to be read in the dark.

This particular book contained details and descriptions and step-by-step instructions on several dozen different breathing Techniques as well as a collection of stories related to the more famous among them.

Pete offered his sister the book but felt a pang of reluctance and regret as she took it from his hands.

Struggling under the weight and the awkward size of the book, Momoko set it down on the ground and began slowly turning the pages. Eventually, she settled on a page demonstrating the Breath of the Forest breathing Technique. The illustration depicted a young Human adult male with long hair and colourful robes sitting beneath several large trees being swept by a powerful wind. It was also one of the few breathing Techniques accompanied by a story. However, Momoko didn’t appear interested in the story at all, focusing only on the large detailed illustration.

“This one, can you teach me, big brother?” Momoko asked, eagerly pointing to the illustration.

Pete couldn’t help himself and frowned. “You need my help?” He asked, confused and uncertain of what his youngest sister intended.

Momoko gingerly shook her head. “I can’t understand this,” she pointed to the words on the page opposite the illustration.

“You...can’t read?” Pete realised he had made several poor assumptions based on his youngest sister’s appearance and chastised himself for it.

“No...” Momoko pouted, puffing out her cheeks in exaggerated irritation, “I can read and write-” She drew several dozen characters into the mud in rapid succession. Only, she wrote them vertically rather than horizontally. Were it not for her supreme confidence, Pete wouldn’t have believed her claims.

“The tallest tree draws the strongest storms,” Garn translated, surprising them both in equal measure.

“You can read this?” Pete demanded, pointing to the markings his youngest sister had made in the mud.

Garn nodded in the affirmative. “Indeed, young master. It is one of the three known languages of the Cultivators,” he explained in his dry croaking voice. “It is the King’s command that all Daemons learn the languages of the Tyrant’s subjects,” he provided as an explanation for his first explanation.

Having known Gric his entire life, Pete didn’t find the command particularly surprising. Discovering, preserving and distributing information was one of Gric’s self-imposed duties, and language was a core component of that aspiration.

Sitting on the ground beside the book, Pete slowly worked his way through the description of the Technique and the accompanying instructions. While he was technically literate, he was not yet proficient enough to read even half as fast as he could speak the same words aloud and was in no hurry to make a fool of himself.

Thankfully, the illustration provided most of the necessary description all on its own. Demonstrating the correct form required to initiate the required meditation for the Technique and even clues for how the subject of the meditation itself.

After explaining the contents of the Technique and the clues represented in the illustration, Pete left his youngest sister to practise on her own for a little while and cleaned his book in the nearby spring. Despite its resistance to water and extreme durability, knowing that the book was soiled by the mud irked Pete on a profoundly deep level that he couldn’t put into words.

It was an opinion that Pete knew was shared by his father. A thought that had once given him a small degree of comfort but now brought only a mounting sense of unease as his thoughts turned to the uncertain fate of his father.

Watching Momoko meditate beneath her tree, Pete was left alone with Garn and his own thoughts for company.

Growing increasingly anxious regarding his future and all of the responsibilities he would be expected to take onto his shoulders, Pete came to a decision.

Exercising his authority, Pete returned to the bottom of the lake and began to meditate, drawing the mana-rich water into his body and over his gills with increasing speed. Similar to drawing in the Cultivation energy, Pete drew the mana out of the water and took it into himself.

Losing himself to the rhythm and repetition, Pete retained only enough awareness of his surroundings to read the notifications as they appeared in front of his eyes. Evolving several times in as many minutes, Pete continued drawing raw mana into himself, reinforcing and building upon his increasing reserve of MP.

Following his father’s path had been the logical choice. However, Pete was still surprised and somewhat concerned that the Tyrant subEvolution had been made available after achieving the Ogre Mage Evolution he had originally intended.

Shouldn’t it be reserved for the Tyrant?

Taking it as a sign, Pete intended to follow his father’s example and accepted the prompt offering the accompanying Class. Using his authority, Pete relocated himself to the Dwergi arena.

So little time had passed since their visit and Pete found it upsetting that so much could be allowed to change.

Why couldn’t they just be left alone?

Blinking away his tears, Pete looked out from the viewing box and focused on the duelling platforms below.

Despite the late hour, hundreds of Humans occupied the public seats overlooking the arena and viewing platforms.

Nearly as many Humans, and a few others, were waiting their turn on the centremost stage. Besides being the largest of the platforms in the arena, the Dwergi changed the terrain between each duel, making it a unique experience for each duel.

Watching the Dwergi work unlocked the first Spell Pete was looking for. After accepting the Shape Earth Spell into his Grimoire of Flesh, a jagged mountain range was imprinted into his skin and Pete grimly noted that he had gained the Earth Affinity.

Due to stringent requirements, Spellcasting Classes were comparatively rare and exclusively specialised, making Pete’s acquisition of the desired Spells agonisingly slow.

“Young master...” Without warning, Gric had appeared at his side and was frowning with disapproval. “The Tyrantess is distressed by your absence...” His slitted pupils narrowed, darting to and fro as they took in Pete’s new appearance. “You have grown,” Gric commented matter of factly, neither approving nor disapproving of Pete's actions.

“Need to help,” Pete insisted, “Need to be ready...”

Gric’s stare intensified. “Your place is at the side of the Tyrantess,” he countered. “Disunity in crisis is selfish and invites further disaster.” His right eye twitched and Pete could feel the Daemon King observing his surface thoughts. “How does your absence help?” Gric probed.

Pete wasn’t exactly sure of the reason himself. He just trusted that his youngest sister knew what she was doing.

“The youngest mistress...” Gric purred dangerously.

Pete felt a tug on the core of his being and intuitively understood that Gric was attempting to exercise his own authority to move them somewhere else. Assuming he would be presented before his mother, and feeling increasingly guilty about abandoning her, Pete allowed Gric’s authority to temporarily supersede his own.

However, instead of appearing before his mother, Pete found he had returned to the mountain.

Gric stalked through the mud and toward Momoko. “Young mistress, how does this aid the Tyrant?” He demanded, breaking her concentration.

Flustered and thoroughly caught off guard, Momoko shrank back from the Daemon and disappeared into the trunk of her tree.

Gric growled in frustration, balling his fists and causing his back to crackle and pop under the immense pressure. However, he became calm again just as quickly. “Young mistress...I apologise for my impertinence...My fervour in pursuing my duties led me to ignore any discomfort I may cause...”

After several long moments, Momoko cautiously peeked out from the trunk of her tree. “You aren’t mad?” She asked timidly.

Gric took a deep breath and assumed a serene expression similar to the Humans depicted in Pete’s book. “I am not mad, young mistress. I am just deeply concerned for the welfare of the Tyrant.”

Momoko gnawed at her lower lip and looked to Pete for support.

“It is safe,” Pete stated confidently. Even if he wasn’t bound by oaths of loyalty, Gric wouldn’t hurt them. Pete knew it with the same certainty that the sun would rise each morning and set again each evening. Gric’s honour and pride simply wouldn’t allow it.

As Gric gave Pete a small nod of thanks, Momoko took the opportunity to dash past him and hide protectively behind Pete’s back.

“Gric is...” Pete struggled to find the right words to set his youngest sister at ease. “He is father’s friend. He protects us.”

Gric’s back cast back his shoulders and tilted his head so his three horns caught the moonlight. “As always, I endeavour to find myself deserving of the trust placed in me and my kin.”

Garn nodded silently in emphatic agreement.

Holding tightly to Pete’s arm, Momoko continued to hesitate.

“Gric will help,” Pete insisted, resisting the urge to become frustrated at his younger sister. He knew she was just frightened and wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“Big brother is sure?” Momoko asked timidly.

“Big brother is sure,” Pete repeated with absolute confidence and feeling a certain sense of pride in reassuring his sister. Given Suzy’s reckless and utterly fearless nature, it was altogether a unique experience for him.

“Okay...” Momoko nervously stepped out from behind Pete's back but continued holding tightly to his arm. “Father’s internal energy is out of balance...” She explained quietly. “Father used Death Chi to preserve his life...but it is a poison and has damaged father’s spirit...”

Gric’s eyes flashed with recognition but he remained silent. No doubt worried that any action he might take would cause Momoko to run and hide again.

“How do we heal this damage?” Garn asked respectfully, taking great care to appear as unthreatening as possible.

“Father needs new energy to heal his spirit and restore balance,” Momoko explained with increasing confidence. “If I gather enough, I can heal Father!”

“You are certain?” Gric asked quietly.

Momoko nodded determinedly.

“And what role does the young master play in this plan?” Gric shifted his gaze from her and onto Pete instead.

Momoko’s cheeks flushed. “I needed brother’s help to return to the mountain...”

“So the young master can return home now?” Gric pressed. “Lurr possesses a token that will allow him to ferry the young mistress back to The Grove when-”

“No!” Momoko cried, tightening her grip on Pete’s arm. “Uncle must stay with Father! And big brother must stay with me!”

Gric furrowed his brow slightly but said nothing.

“The young mistress is certain of this?” Garn asked nervously.

Momoko nodded so fiercely that she had to push her wet hair out of her face afterwards.

“Perhaps the young master could spare a few moments to ease the worries of the Tyrantess?” Garn suggested, sharing a sidelong glance with Gric.

Pete shifted uncomfortably. He had not intended to upset his mother. However, as much as he had been able to justify his absence, Pete knew it wouldn’t mean much in the face of his mother’s worry. He also knew that he should have told her where he was going. The only reason he hadn’t, was out of fear that she would have forbid him from leaving.

“I could come back after...” Pete said somewhat uncertainly, trying to reassure his youngest sister despite his doubts.

“I will go with big brother,” Momoko stated meekly, her fingers trembling with fear and uncertainty.

Pete had never thought of his mother as a source of potential danger, but he realised that he had always considered the issue from a privileged perspective. As her child, Pete knew, on a primal level, that his mother would never knowingly cause him harm without incredibly good cause.

Of course, that protection did not automatically extend to Momoko...

She was his sister, but not his mother’s daughter...

But Eg wasn’t her daughter either, and she received the same love and affection as he and Suzy. So Pete couldn’t be certain how his mother would react.

Aware that delaying would only make matters worse, Pete used his authority to take himself and Momoko to his mother.

It came as no surprise to Pete when he found himself in the dark lower levels beneath the hospital. His mother had left his father’s side on only a handful of occasions over the past couple of days and was never away for long.

Having expected to find his mother angry at him, Pete was devastated upon realising she was disappointed in him. That he had let her down and fallen short of her expectations.

Gutted, Pete staggered and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught himself against the wall.

“You were gone...” His mother said quietly with hurt in her eyes. “Why did you go?...” There was no judgement in her voice, but he could still hear the same undertone of disappointment.

“Pete bad!” Suzy growled, gnashing her teeth even as she snuggled deeper into their mother’s embrace.

“Hush Suzy...” Their mother cooed soothingly without taking her eyes off of him. “Pete will explain...”

“Youngest sister...Momoko, she needs my help...” Pete answered quietly, feeling too guilty to quite match his mother’s gaze. “She says she can help Father...”

Suzy glared at Momoko and hissed between her teeth.

With a fearful yelp, Momoko fled and hid behind Pete’s back.

“Suzy,” their mother growled in warning, unintentionally upsetting Eg and causing her to whimper in alarm.

Suzy flinched and looked away, choosing to stare at nothing in particular just so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Youngest sister has a plan...” Pete repeated earnestly, “And she needs help...” Pete had been avoiding looking at his father, but couldn’t help himself any longer. As much as he hated seeing his father in this condition, a part of him needed to confirm that he was still there. That he was still alive.

Lurr, who had remained silent up until this moment, loudly cleared his throat and drew all eyes to himself. “Tyrant’s heir not fleeing. Son chases father’s shadow,” he pointed to Pete’s tattoo, recognising its significance. “Says Tyrant will heal. Lurr believes,” Lurr bowed his head to Pete in respect.

Pete couldn’t help but fidget uncomfortably as his mother’s eyes settled on his tattoo. However, instead of becoming further disappointed, a small measure of weight appeared to lift off her shoulders.

“You have his Evolution,” his mother commented with unexpected approval and a measure of surprise.

Pete nodded.

His mother’s eyes grew unfocused for a moment as she reviewed his status. “And his Class...” Her expression grew conflicted and Pete wasn’t sure what she was feeling. “I trust you...” His mother said quietly and beckoned for him to come closer.

Closing the distance between them, Pete leaned into his mother’s embrace.

“Stay safe,” his mother insisted, tightening her embrace briefly before releasing him again.

“I will, mama,” Pete promised.

Sparing one final look at his father, Pete took Momoko’s hand and returned to the mountain.

“The Tyrantess approves,” Gric observed with absolute certainty. “How may I assist the young master?”

Reassured by his mother’s approval and Gric’s support, Pete decided to make the most of his available resources. “I need more Spells,” he explained bluntly, driving straight to the heart of the matter.

“Which Spells?” Gric asked without judgment or reservation. “Name your requirement and I will do my best to see it met.”

Pete shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “I need Spells that will match Father’s Affinities...”

“Yes!” Momoko joined in excitedly, “Big brother is so smart!”

Gric cocked his head slightly to one side but said nothing. Instead, he cycled through several Spells in relatively rapid succession. “These are the Spells granted to me by the Tyrant,” he explained carefully while dismissing a ragged black tear in the sky. “To my knowledge, the Tyrant does not possess any others.”

Taking the elemental Spells into his Grimoire of Flesh, Pete confirmed that the Spells had granted him their corresponding affinities. However, he paused when confronted with the Drain Life Spell. “I do not want it...” Pete admitted, feeling ashamed for his cowardice.

If the Affinity was able to lay his father low, Pete doubted he would be able to keep his promise to his mother.

“Don’t take it,” Momoko replied supportively, sharing a small smile through the rain. “We don’t need it.”

“You are sure?” Pete asked uncertainly.

Momoko hesitated, but only for a moment. “We don’t need it!” She repeated, this time with seemingly unflappable conviction.

Choosing to trust his sister, Pete selected the Spatial Breach Spell as the second to last entry into his Grimoire of Flesh. Until he gained more Exp, he wouldn’t be able to learn any other Spells. So he thought it best to keep the final space in reserve.

Now that he possessed the Thunder Affinity, Pete could feel the immense power concentrated around them. More than mana and the raw Cultivation energy, he could feel the storm being drawn into his body with each new breath. Building and growing inside of him, spreading from his abdomen and into his veins.

Assuming his meditation stance and cycling his breathing Technique amplified the effects over a hundredfold. Similar to how his Water Affinity increased while meditating in the lake, his Thunder Affinity’s rank began to climb. Only it was increasing with every few minutes rather than days.

As the ambient Thunder Affinity-aligned energy began to ebb, the progress of his Affinity began to drop.

Feeling his youngest sister take hold of his hand, Pete experienced a renewed surge of energy flood through his veins.

All but blind to the storm, Pete was slow to recognise an unfamiliar smell building in the air, and entirely unprepared for the sudden flash of light that stole his vision. Pete’s fears were forgotten as he felt a massive surge of power pass through Momoko’s body and into his own.

Feeling a sense of panic as the power threatened to overwhelm him, Pete felt a profound sense of relief as the power receded through his connection to his youngest sister. When the power returned a handful of moments later, Pete managed to keep his nerve until the power receded again. As the power returned for a third time, he discovered that he could direct its flow through his body, drawing away at its strength and taking more of its essence into himself before guiding it back to Momoko.

Despite the danger, Pete was surprised to discover that he was enjoying himself and couldn’t stop himself from grinning from ear to ear.

***** Gregory ~ Asrusian Former Capital *****

Walking the empty streets of the former capital, Gregory couldn't help but feel a lingering but profound sense of despair. With the citizens refusing to remain within the city, only a small garrison remained to hold the castle and control access to the Labyrinth.

It would only be a matter of time before the Confederates seized control over the city, likely under peaceful pretences.

As much as Gregory wanted to believe that it was the people who made the country, not the land they lived upon, he couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of loss.

Surveying the destruction wrought by the unknown enemy, Gregory had no delusions regarding the need to evacuate the civilians from the city.

According to the reports, the monster had been capable of levelling stone buildings with a single strike, and there was no shortage of physical evidence to support this claim.

Working alongside the other soldiers, Gregory had pulled hundreds of broken bodies from beneath the rubble of fallen buildings. No doubt, many of them had been seeking shelter, placing their hopes in the strength of their stone walls to save them. Only to find themselves crushed to death by those same walls.

A small number of soldiers had taken to blaming the Tyrant for the disaster, believing he had fled from the battle and left the civilians to fend for themselves.

Gregory knew that the rumour was unfounded. By chance, he had been on leave within the capital when the enemy had attacked the city. While trying to locate the enemy, Gregory had received the Quest announcing the Tyrant’s critical state.

Surveying the ground of the battle in person and having read the eyewitness reports, Gregory knew better than to accuse the Tyrant of cowardice.

The Tyrant had faced the enemy and fought until the bitter end.

Kneeling and pressing his hand against the edge of the large patch of dried blood that covered half of the street, Gregory considered it nothing short of a miracle that the Tyrant had survived.

Tracking the devastation of the battle, it became clear to Gregory that the Tyrant had been outmatched from the beginning. Brief exchanges would be made and then the Tyrant would retreat, perhaps intending to buy time to regenerate MP or attempt to cast a Spell before engaging in another brief but brutal exchange.

The blood trails the Tyrant had left in his wake made it painfully easy to retrace his steps. Even collapsed buildings only provided a minor inconvenience. Confirming the flow of the battle rather than obfuscating it.

While retracing the Tyrant’s steps, Gregory discovered the Tyrant’s crimson stone armour half buried in rubble. After sending a description of the location to his men and giving orders for its retrieval, Gregory removed the wand from the case on his belt and teleported to the receiving chambers of the Lord Regent.

“Enter,” the Lord Regent commanded a fraction of a second after Gregory’s arrival.

As one of a handful of individuals who possessed the means to bypass the Anchor protecting the Lord Regent’s residence, the speedy invitation came as no surprise. Especially given the Daemons’ intense dislike for wasting time while on the Tyrant’s business.

Entering the Regent’s study, Gregory was not surprised to find he was not alone.

The monster, Jacque, a Doppelganger and friend of the Tyrant was wearing her usual disguise. Emulating the appearance of the Lord Regent’s late wife down to the most esoteric details, it came as little surprise why the Lord Regent actively pursued her company.

Gregory had observed the pair reference past conversations with immaculate detail, even going so far as to argue over whose retelling was closer to the truth. A feat that was made all the more impressive considering the Doppelganger was working entirely off of the Lord Regent’s memories.

Of course, the Doppelganger was an entirely different person whenever the Lord Regent was outside of earshot. Making it clear that it was all an elaborate act.

Taking on her true form, except for a lipless gash that served as her mouth, the Doppelganger made it clear that she would not be affecting a persona. “Did you find out who these Amun and Kema bastards are?!” The Doppelganger demanded rudely.

Gregory made a point of addressing his attention to the Lord Regent. “Beyond what we have already learned from witness testimony, it is still unclear what role the second individual played in the attack-”

“Besides murdering a couple of thousand people you mean?” Jacque jibed, her white pupiless eyes glaring at him from across the room.

Gregory had seen the bodies for himself and would have suspected suicide were it not for several key factors. Foremost amongst them was the extreme degree of coordination with which regular civilians had taken knives to their throats and ended their lives. A close second was how they had chosen to do so while begging and screaming for passersby to help them. Many of them had been neighbours. Making the attack all the more chilling and repulsive.

Amun, whoever they were, had conducted the execution with ruthless efficiency. Demonstrating a truly disturbed, or perhaps, monstrous, mind.

“I have been telling you, those people you had me take a look at, they felt weird...” Jacque insisted and gave an exaggerated shiver. “There are only a few things that register like that, and according to you lot, Tim killed one of them already.”

“You are referring to the monster that was known as ‘The Tailor’?” The Lord Regent asked for clarification.

“Yeah,'' Jacque nodded and made another show of shivering. “Kiki was demented. An addict that would do ANYTHING for her next fix...But this shit...It has autistic psychopath written all over it, and from what I saw in those civies' heads, I’d bet this Amun is another bug.”

“The unaccounted-for fluids at the scene would support this hypothesis,” Gregory agreed, albeit somewhat grudgingly. “If we could speak with the Tyrant’s men, we could-”

“Fat chance of that happening,” Jacque interrupted. “Have you forgotten that you’re at the top of his shit list?”

Gregory had not forgotten. Hardly a day went by without him dwelling on the damage he had done to the reputation of the Kingdom. Casting them out of favour just in time for the Semenovians to step into the void. Although, thankfully, the Semenovians seemed too preoccupied in their rebuilding efforts to make the most of the opportunity.

“Okay, so maybe he doesn’t have a shit list per se,” Jacque continued, casually swinging her hips and sitting herself down on the Lord Regent’s desk. “But he isn’t happy about what you did, and the Daemons, ooh boy do they take that sort of thing seriously. You have no idea how badly they would treat you lot if given the chance. You think Gric’s giving you the cold shoulder now? The Arctic would look like the Bahamas if you tried sneaking into Sanctuary right now.” She paused and rubbed at her temples. “The Arctic is a frozen wasteland and the Bahamas is basically a tropical paradise...keep forgetting you mooks don’t get those sort of references...”

“The context was more than adequate,” the Lord Regent reassured her before turning to face Gregory again. “What of the rumours amongst the soldiers?” He asked gravely.

“I think it is growing worse,” Gregory replied. “The crackdowns performed by the officers don’t appear to be working.”

“I told you it was the wrong way to go,” Jacque gloated. “Tim won’t give two shits about people finding out he got his ass kicked fighting to protect people. It’s kind of just a thing he does at this point. He probably won’t even care that much when he finds out people have been badmouthing him. But it’s not Tim you need to worry about, is it?”

The Lord Regent grimaced. “The Daemons will hold us responsible,” he commented, already accepting the inevitable.

“Unless Tim explicitly tells them not to? You can bet your ass they will,” Jacque crowed. “The Daemons don’t spare a great deal of nuance for this sort of thing. If they don’t see this as some sort of betrayal, then I would be incredibly surprised.”

“You believe the Tyrant will recover then?” The Lord Regent inquired, ignoring the doom and gloom and choosing to focus on the silver lining.

“Whoever they are, they made a mistake in not finishing Tim off when they had the chance,” Jacque hopped off of the table and paced the far end of the room. “Tim heals crazy fast, even without those Surgeons of his. He’s probably physically good to go already. It’s the other part that we need to worry about...”

“The other part?” Gregory asked before he could stop himself.

“Everyone seems to take Tim’s good nature for granted...” Jacque commented darkly, “But none of you have taken a look at what’s under the hood-gah, fuck! Hidden beneath the surface? Yeah that works, now where was I?”

“Misunderstanding the Tyrant’s intentions,” the Lord Regent offered helpfully.

“More than just a handsome face,” Jacque purred lustily before growing sober again. “This is the same shit as the Liche and Vampyres all over again. That brutal attack on the civies is a huge no-no. It’s the sort of thing that fucks him up in the head. Tim’s too soft for that sort of shit and it makes him take it real personal...” She paused and pinned them both in place with a lengthy stare. “It’s basically a guarantee that he’s going to somehow blame himself for what happened. Which means a little bit more of the person you want and need him to be is going to be cast aside so he can pressure himself into getting his hands dirty and seek revenge.”

“You are confident in this insight?” The Lord Regent asked.

“Fuck yeah I am!” Jacque replied earnestly, “I watched it happen in real-time. I was inside of his head as he rationalised each step along the way...Pray Tim hasn’t recovered yet and is in some sort of coma. If he isn’t, you're looking at another war...“

“Then we must prepare accordingly...” The Lord Regent withdrew a small stack of papers from inside his desk and began drafting orders. “This is one of the reasons I never desired the throne,” he sighed wearily. “It is a far better position to offer advice from the wings while comforted in the knowledge that the final decision and responsibility would not rest on my head...” Pausing briefly, he stared out the window and at the two young boys receiving riding lessons outside. “At least the Tyrant’s Oaths have ensured there is no need to worry about misguided assassination attempts...”

“Small miracles,” Jacque tittered, changing her appearance and crossing the room to look out the same window. “I don’t think some people appreciate how big a deal it is to be able to let your kid play outside and not have to freak out the moment they run around a corner...”

“I am sure many parents have found peace of mind in the Tyrant’s policies,” the Lord Regent replied, returning to his work. “It is just unfortunate that those who could assign private protection for their children do not necessarily share that view.”

Remaining at attention, Gregory grunted in agreement. It was rare that members of the nobility suffered meaningful consequences for their decisions and vain aspirations. With murder and assault explicitly forbidden and enforced by the Oaths, the troublemakers among the nobility would be limited to attacking one another with words, or perhaps duels in the Dwergi arena, if they were feeling particularly ornery.

“Captain?” The Lord Regent remained focused on his work but motioned for Gregory to approach. “What do you make of this report?” He nodded to a small stack of papers by his right hand.

Gingerly reaching for the report, Gregory quickly scanned its contents. “It is another Labyrinth Raid?”

Raids were rare due to the extensive controls imposed upon most Labyrinths. However, every so often, a city would suffer a Raid as a result of poor management and the alignment of unfortunate circumstances.

“Keep reading,” the Lord Regent urged.

Gregory did as he was told but quickly found himself doubting the remaining contents of the report.

“I had the same look on my face no less than an hour ago when I read the report for myself,” the Lord Regent commented soberly, setting aside his quill.

“An army of Hobgoblins all armed with magic wands?” Gregory insisted incredulously. “Surely this report isn’t credible?”

The Lord Regent spared a glance toward Jacque, his expression grim.

“They aren’t wands,” Jacque commented dryly without looking away from the window. “They’re a weapon that uses science, alchemy I guess you could call it, to throw small metal projectiles at incredible speeds over long distances...We call them guns...”

“Alchemy?” Gregory only became more confused.

Jacque sighed and ran one hand through her long brown hair. “If it helps, think of it like a crossbow. Only, without the arms and firing just the head of the bolt...”

“We have spoken on this at great length already,” the Lord Regent admitted, “And I doubt we are the only ones to do so. As I am sure you are aware, Captain, the city of Ghelk is on the far side of the Confederacy. So it is safe to assume that if we have learned of these strange weapons, others have as well.”

“Fat load of good it will do them,” Jacque snorted contemptuously, evidently aware of something they were not. “The thing about guns is, the bullets, the projectiles they fire, they need a special powder to make them work. You could steal as many of the bullets and guns as you want, but if you don’t know how to make more of the powder it won’t amount to much.”

“In the same vein as possessing a hunting bow and a brace of arrows, without the knowledge to replace those that are lost or damaged,” the Lord Regent elaborated for Gregory’s benefit, “yes we discussed as much before...”

“I also remember telling you that guns are a really bad idea...” Jacque warned icily. “You can bet your arse Tim knows about guns, and it should tell you all you need to know about them when you take notice that he hasn’t ‘reinvented them’...”

As the Doppelganger’s words sank home, Gregory felt a chill run down his spine. For all the gifts in Healing the Tyrant had provided, it had never occurred to him that the Tyrant might possess knowledge of such destructive weaponry as well.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 75 - The approaching storm - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 75 - The approaching storm - Part Two

***** Kema ~ Asrusian Former Capital *****

Antennae waving lazily in the breeze and wings silently thrumming at her back, Kema surveyed the city below her with disgust and a deep profound sense of vindication.

The human vermin carried the same mark as the two Devil’s she and Amun had dispatched only hours earlier. However, while rifling through the minds of the city’s inhabitants, Kema had stumbled upon a far greater prize than she ever would have anticipated.

The city was home to a potential candidate.

Kema’s outer mandibles clacked with intense anticipation, exciting the brutish form of her companion, guardian, and Mate, Amun.

As large as a Giant, Amun, as with all males of his line, had been bred for the rigours of physical combat and absolute obedience. Armoured in thick obsidian carapace and driven by muscles and tendons that could shatter mountains, Amun was a living weapon.

The powerful beating of Amun’s wings released a keening drone that would gradually drive lesser minds to madness. Or it would have done if Kema was not actively masking their presence by altering the minds of those below them.

<There is danger?> Amun asked, agitated by her excited state and scanning the warren of stone below them with his entirely mundane senses.

<No.> Kema replied, withholding only a fraction of her disdain. <My investigation has yielded unexpected fruit, is all.> She impressed the enormity of her discovery onto his mind but did not elaborate further. All males were linked to the Norn Queens, and there was no telling who may be watching from within.

<They carry the mark.> Amun replied, demonstrating a disconcertingly rare sign of personal initiative.

<Indeed...> Kema carefully combed through Amun’s thoughts for signs of outside influence but found no one’s touch besides her own.

Amun’s mind returned to its default state, scanning for potential threats and endlessly repeating the litany of loyalty. <To serve the Norn Queens is the greatest honour. To die in their service is the greatest reward...>

Kema removed herself from Amun’s thoughts, maintaining only the minimum connection required to facilitate direct communication should it prove necessary.

While carefully scanning the minds of the human vermin, Kema was only marginally surprised to find that those dwelling within the most fortified structure of the hive had extensive dealings with the potential candidate she was searching for.

The more she learned, the more excited Kema became.

The Ogre’s deviations from the standard matrix of his kind were unheard of. In all of the Dominion’s records, only those chosen by the masters would possess deviations on such a scale.

If the Ogre was one of the chosen, then there was a real chance that he might be the subject they had been searching for.

Activating the sub-minds in her psychic consciousness, Kema began spinning an intricate web of Spells over the city. Layer by layer, she established contingencies that would deny the Ogre the support of his most valuable allies.

Ideally, the Ogre would succumb to her psychic assault and allow her to deliver his unresisting body to the Norn Queens without a fuss. However, Kema was not nearly so foolish to believe that would be possible.

There were precious few who would try to break free of Enslavement and fewer still who would succeed. Willpower played its role but was not the determining factor. However, the aversion to pain was deeply rooted in lesser minds and drove many to receive greater pain as a matter of course simply to avoid accepting pain as a result of their active choosing.

The Ogre had broken its own Enslavement, which was rare enough, only to then break the Enslavement of thousands of others. A feat that was unique enough on its own and enough to warrant caution. However, learning that the Ogre had freed hundreds simultaneously was another matter entirely.

The scale of nerve stimulation involved should have killed him. The fact that it hadn’t, made the Ogre a far greater threat. However, it also made him that much more likely to be the one the Dominion had been searching for.

Furthermore, the Ogre’s strengths were offset by an otherwise fatal flaw. A flaw Kema was only too happy to exploit to her advantage.

With her Spells in place, Kema delivered her demands.

***** Tim ~ Tim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Sanctuary *****

There was nothing else I could do for Sebet, and little I could do for Clarice. Even though I wasn’t sure what I should do, I decided to stay as a show of support.

A deep unsettling sense of unease quite suddenly replaced my lingering awkwardness.

Rising to my feet, I couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

“What is it?” Sebet asked, concerned by my abrupt shift in temperament.

“I don’t know...” I admitted bluntly, “But something feels...wrong...”

Gric frowned and his eyes grew unfocused. After several moments, his eyes flashed with anger. “An outsider is killing civilians in the Asrusian city outside of the Dimension Plane,” Gric announced angrily.

Shocked by Gric’s words, I removed the filter and was immediately bombarded by a stream of black Death Notifications. “No...” In the span of a few seconds, dozens and then hundreds of names passed before my eyes. “NO!” I roared, conjuring my armour onto my body and relocating myself and Gric to Sanctuary.

With a thought, I drew my thunder warriors to my side. “We are under attack!” I barked, bringing them all to immediate attention. “Locate the enemy AND DESTROY THEM!” I roared, overcome with grief and enraged by the notifications streaming through my peripheral vision.

Without saying another word, I bridged the gap between my realm and the world beyond, traveling directly to the portal located on the castle grounds within the Asrusians' former capital. However, instead of the castle grounds, I found myself standing in the centre square.

There was no sign of Gric and all of my thunder warriors were missing.

Screams of terror rose from the city around me, but the centre square was eerily silent. Littered with the bleeding broken bodies of men, women, and children.

On reflex, I gathered my MP and prepared to Summon Gric. However, just as I was about to complete the Spell, I felt something was amiss and canceled the Summons.

Extending my senses, I became painfully aware of the currents of mana surrounding me and the city at large.

Before I had the chance to identify any of the other Spells, something huge crashed through a nearby building at incredible speed and struck the right side of my helmet.

Stunned by the blow, I staggered and fell to the ground.

Before I could rise, something struck my stomach with enough force to lift me off the ground and crash through a nearby brick wall.

Disoriented and rendered half-blind by the ruptured blood vessels in my right eye, I barely managed to claw myself free of the fallen building before taking another blow to the chest. Thrown through several more buildings, I ignored the pain radiating from my chest and gathered my MP into my armour.

As I had expected, my attacker wasted no time in continuing their assault. Only this time, as their attack landed on my shoulder, I was not the only one sent flying.

Gathering more MP I prepared to pulse the Barrier Spell and attempt to purge the enemy Spells from my immediate area.

Before I could cast the Spell, an immense mental strain settled onto my mind like a blanket of barbed wire. Unable to complete my Spell, I barely raised my arms in time to block the next blow from my attacker.

Knocked backward but otherwise still on my feet, I got my first proper look at my assailant.

Only a foot shorter than me and wearing shiny black armour, he had long arms and legs but only three fingers on each hand. As he prepared to charge, the face guard of his helmet briefly split down the middle and shifted in place before settling again. He made a strange clicking croaking sound and made a show of flexing the fingers on his right hand which was bleeding a thick greenish-yellow fluid.

Trying to gather MP for another Spell, I was forced to abandon the attempt as the pain in my mind flared in response.

The black armoured man made another guttural croaking clicking sound and shook his head. Clenching his bloody fist, he squared up to begin another round.

Left with no other choice, I drew my mace and prepared for combat.

To my surprise, the enemy drew a hammer of his own from thin air.

Ignoring the pain as best I could manage, I charged forward and used my Chi to try and shift the ground beneath his feet.

The enemy hopped backward, drawing back his hammer and then leaping forward in a countercharge.

I realized my mistake just in time to veer off course and narrowly avoid the head of the hammer. However, the enemy continued the motion, spinning and stepping into the blow, closing the distance between us before slamming the hammer into my back.

Thrown forward, I crashed into another wall.

Keenly aware that I couldn’t remain still, I stepped to the side and narrowly avoided another blow from the hammer.

The pressure on my mind increased by another step and it was all I could do not to scream. Then, without warning, the pain abated.

Just in time for the hammer to crash into the front of my helmet and break my nose.

Driven past the point of reason, I grabbed at the shaft of the two-handed hammer and warped the wood, twisting and coiling the shaft around the enemy’s arm and binding it with thorns. However, try as I might, I couldn’t tighten the hold fast enough to do any real damage before he threw me off.

Just as quickly as the hammer had appeared, it disappeared again, leaving my Chi without a vessel.

Instead of drawing a new weapon, the black armoured giant backed away several steps and nodded approvingly. “Is-k-k-k. Good-k-k-k,” he croaked, gasping at the beginning and then stuttering the end of each word with more of the same strange clicking sounds. “Was-k-k-k. Easy-k-k-k.” He raised his fists and advanced.

With lightning speed, the giant leaned out of reach of my mace and then surged forward, seizing my wrists and pinning both arms against the crumbling wall at my back.

Investing my Chi into the broken masonry, I pelted bricks and mortar at his head, throwing him off balance just long enough to break away.

Retreating even as I continued the assault, I quickly realized that the giant was taking no visible signs of damage and only appeared to be surprised by the unconventional nature of the attack itself.

Gathering my MP I pulsed the Barrier Spell in a desperate bid to nullify the enemy’s Spells.

The black armoured giant stopped mid-charge, watching the Barrier as it expanded outward and passed over his body. “K-k-k-k...” The giant began gathering its MP and projected a dull grey Barrier of its own.

My MP began to hemorrhage at an accelerated rate and my Barrier collapsed before it had expanded more than a couple of dozen feet.

“Weak-k-k-k,” the giant taunted, canceling its Barrier and beginning its advance anew.

Raising my mace, I gathered what MP I could, and prepared a Thundering Strike. Bringing the mace down in a double-handed strike, I aimed for the giant's head, hoping that I could end the fight with a single blow.

Raising both arms and ducking low, the giant caught the strike on his crossed forearms. More of the greenish-yellow liquid burst from beneath the giant’s vambraces and from between the spaces in his gauntlets, but the giant held firm.

Pain erupted from my abdomen.

Looking downward with my one good eye, I could only stare in surprise upon spotting a second pair of hands holding long thin blades planted firmly in my abdomen.

Slowly rising to his full height, the giant seized hold of my wrists and leaned in close. The plates of his helmet jittered, revealing several small black eyes behind the visor and releasing a foul stench. “Weak-k-k-k,” the giant repeated, only this time, I saw what was behind the visor. Or rather, realized it was not a visor at all.

The giant was some form of mutant anthropomorphic arthropod.

“Give-k-k-k. In-k-k-k,” the giant mutant insect demanded, plated mandibles clacking in triumph. Releasing its hold on the blades still firmly lodged in my abdomen, it slipped its hands beneath my helmet, wrapped its clawed fingers around my throat, and began to squeeze.

Gasping for breath and choking on my own blood, I gathered most of my remaining MP and drove my knee up into the giant mutant beetle’s groin. Empowered by my spilled blood, the giant mutant was sent flying skyward.

Unfortunately, removing the giant beetle’s claws from my throat did not bring the relief I had expected. Worse still, I could feel blood running freely down my chest.

Resisting the urge to strip off my helmet and apply pressure to the site of the bleeding, I pulled off my gauntlets and activated the tattoo that allowed me to take on human form.

After several moments of intense agony, the physical pain became nothing more than a memory. However, without enough MP to trigger the tattoo a second time, I was unable to return to my true form.

Shedding my armour like a hermit crab, I retreated into the broken building to seek shelter and attempt to regenerate both my HP and MP.

While I could use Sorcery to activate the tattoo a second time, it had already been made painfully obvious that I wasn’t going to defeat this enemy through brute force,

Stumbling over the broken masonry and into the room beyond, I continued forward, clearing a path with my Chi and closing it as best I could manage behind myself.

With only the magical skirt securely fixed about my waist for protection, I struggled to think of a time when I had ever been more vulnerable than I was at this moment.

Brick, mortar and timber exploded overhead as one of the mutant beetle’s limbs came scything through the roof a dozen paces behind me.

Drawing bricks from the wall, I formed a loose shield at my back and continued running forward.

The cloth around my knees was shredded by chips of flying brick and mortar, but my legs remained unharmed thanks to my high Toughness and Thick Skin Ability.

The building collapsed behind me as the mutant beetle’s right arms cleaved through the wall a couple of feet above my newly assumed head height. A second later, one of its left claws shot through the wall a handful of inches behind my back, narrowly missing my elbow and knocking aside a large portion of the brickwork that was serving as my shield.

Attempting to throw the creature off, I launched the remaining bricks back the way I had come and took up a new shield from the wall ahead of me.

Just as I had hoped, an explosion of dust and debris erupted from two buildings back.

Pushing back against my mana fatigue, I began cycling my Chi to draw in as much raw mana as I could manage.

All too quickly the mutant beetle seemed to realise it had been fooled and began collapsing the walls closest to it in rapid succession. Using its extended arm to lough through them one after another without stopping.

Making a hole in the wall on the opposing side, I leapt through just in time to narrowly avoid the mutant beetle’s claws before tumbling onto the rough cobbled street.

Scrambling to my feet, I dashed toward the buildings across the street.

The ground rumbled beneath my feet and a round shadow began rapidly growing in size on the street in front of me, blocking my path. Trusting in my instincts, I leapt forward for the second time.

The mutant beetle’s legs crashed into the cobblestones with the force of a meteor, sending shards of stone and other debris flying in all directions as I sailed between its legs.

Spinning on the spot, the mutant beetle clawed viciously at my back but was too poorly positioned and caught nothing but air.

Hitting the ground running, I sprinted headlong at the brick wall in front of me and blew it out of the way with my Chi.

Spotting movement from the corner of my eye, I prepared to throw myself to the ground or back the way I had come.

Even with the copious volumes of adrenaline being dumped into my system, my authority identified the source of the movement as an ally. A split second later, it corrected the assessment, designating them as one of my subjects.

Matilda, a mother of five children.

Acting without thinking, I leapt back the way I had come and into the open street.

The mutant beetle, legs bent in preparation to give chase, stared at me for a long moment before cocking its head quizzically to one side and working its large plated mandibles in what I could only assume was a sign of confusion. Just as it was preparing to charge, it stopped for a second time. Unlike before, it now seemed agitated, limbs and fingers twitching as its gaze shifted from me and onto the building behind me.

Striding confidently forward, as if I had never been a threat, to begin with, the mutant beetle stalked toward the building where Matilda was hiding behind an overturned table. However, instead of tearing down the wall, or bashing in the roof, it just stood beside the door and waited.

Guessing at the creature’s intentions I began to run down the street to try and lure it away.

“STAY-K-K-K!!!” The mutant beetle demanded angrily.

I felt a fresh surge of pain lance through my brain and nearly fell before catching myself.

“P-Please! D-Don’t leave me!” An older woman’s voice cried out in terror.

Looking over my shoulder, I nearly tripped a second time as I laid eyes on the woman from the house, Matilda, standing in the middle of the street with a knife to her throat. Only, it wasn’t the mutant beetle that was holding her at knife-point. It was Matilda’s hand that pressed the knife against her throat.

“P-Please!!!” Matilda repeated, tears streaming down her face.

Stopped dead in my tracks, it only took me a moment to realise that the older woman had to be under some form of Compulsion or Mind Control. Concentrating my will, I ignored the pain and pushed back as hard as I dared.

The knife fell from Matilda’s trembling hand and she bolted for the safety of what I assumed was her home.

Before she could even reach the door, the pain returned. Only this time it was several times greater in intensity.

Wailing cries echoed up and down the street, as a procession of small children stiffly marched over the debris and rubble to gather at the mutant beetle’s side. Dozens of men and women followed in their wake, desperately attempting to drag their children back to safety. However, whatever Compulsion controlled them, also lent the small children impossible strength, allowing them to overpower their parents with ease.

However, before the last of the children could reach their intended destination, the Compulsion was severed, allowing their parents to snatch them up and flee.

With contemptuous ease, the mutant beetle snatched up one of the parents.

Michael, father of two children.

“STAY-K-K-K!” The creature commanded, squeezing Michael’s torse for emphasis and causing the young man to cry out in pain and fear.

“Run!-Urk!” Michael cried desperately, his words intended for his wife and children, and not for me.

A young woman with dark brown hair, wearing a baker’s apron and fiercely clutching at two small children, Thomas and Sarah, stared back at Michael with tears in her eyes and ran for all she was worth.

Fighting back against my rage, I knew I now had to make a choice.

If I ran away, more civilians would die. The creature had made its position incredibly clear on that particular point. However, I stayed, if I tried to fight it as I was, I would almost certainly die.

Looking into the pale desperate face of a father willing to do anything to protect his children, I only grew more conflicted.

While I deliberated, the mutant beetle drew closer.

With less than a couple of dozen feet between us, I couldn’t help but notice that the creature had loosened its grip. An action that was at odds with its earlier ruthless demonstration.

“I’ll stay,” I stated in as calm a voice as I could muster and decided to test a hunch. “Let him go, and I’ll fight you.”

The creature’s mandibles clacked noisily in excitement and it released Michael, allowing him to fall to the ground. Paying the civilian no further mind, the mutant beetle’s clawed fingers began to twitch in anticipation. “Fight-k-k-k! Yes-k-k-k! Good-k-k-k!” What looked like thick ropy drool had begun running down the many tiny limbs surrounding its hellish mouth before it was blocked from view as the thick mandibles snapped back into place.

Keenly aware that I lacked the size and Strength to do any meaningful damage in my current state, I decided that since I was doing something stupid anyway, I might as well double down while I was at it.

With a thought, I called Shiverfang into my waiting hands, and after a moment's hesitation, designated Pete as my official successor.

The difference in strength between the creature and myself had been disadvantages to begin with. I held no delusions regarding my chances of survival, let alone victory. Should the worst happen, I wanted to give my children the best odds for their survival, and that meant keeping them together. Dividing my territories between them might be the fair thing to do, but it would be no different to throwing them to the wolves.

At least together, they had a chance of growing old enough to fight the Monarchs on some form of equal footing.

The mutant beetle had halted its advance and had begun staring intently at Shiverfang, perhaps sensing the potential danger it represented. Only to then draw four short-bladed swords from thin air, two of which were still coated in my blood.

Perversely, the creature appeared to have an established sense of fair play. It didn’t matter that Shiverfang was an Artefact and no longer than one of his swords. So long as I was armed, the mutant beetle appeared resolved to do likewise.

Without further warning, the creature lunged forward, sweeping its two lower swords together in a scissoring motion that very nearly took my head off. It followed up the attack with a sequence of scorpion-like strikes from the two other swords that cleaved away at the street.

Attempting to parry one of the swords aside, I quickly realised my mistake and attempted to guide the blade of my spear towards the mutant beetle’s exposed chitinous fingers.

With a flick of its wrist, the mutant beetle knocked me aside and initiated a fresh barrage of strikes.

Dodging as best as I was able and literally shifting the street beneath my feet to stay one step ahead, I was forced to admit that I was outmatched in just about every respect. Without Chi and its accompanying Affinities to provide an unfair advantage, there was no way I would have survived long enough to make it thus far.

If I could drag the fight out long enough, there was a chance I could return to my true form and make a better play for time. Perhaps even last long enough for Gric and the others to come to my rescue.

As if reading my thoughts, the creature increased the intensity and frequency of its attacks, turning the street into a broken mess of rubble. Inadvertently making it easier for me to break the line of sight and avoid a concentrated sequence of attacks. However, it was also wearing down my stamina at a much greater rate.

Ducking below a shearing horizontal strike and blocking another with the shaft of Shiverfang, I lost contact with the ground and was sent flying up into the air.

All four blades at the ready, the creature watched my ascent with absolute focus.

Keenly aware that there would be no way to dodge or block all four attacks simultaneously, I resolved to abandon my plan to return to my true form.

Gathering what MP I could spare, I launched a Fire Lance at the mutant beetle’s face. The attack almost certainly wouldn’t do any real damage, but the creature wasn’t to know that.

As I had hoped, the mutant beetle moved to shield its face, momentarily blinding it.

Already committed to remaining in human form, I decided to push my luck further. Feeding a small amount of MP into Shiverfang’s blade, I shifted my grip and brought the edge of the blade down on the uppermost of the mutant beetle’s right hands.

In a blur of motion, the creature raised its right arm and sword to catch the blow, just the same as it had done several times already. It must have come as a shock when the sword was sheared in half and one of the fingers of its left hand was nearly amputated.

Scoring a line from collar to crotch, I regretted not being able to make better use of the opportunity.

Anticipating a retributive strike, I leapt to the side but quickly became confused after realising the creature had not chased after me.

The broken sword disappeared just the same as the hammer from earlier. Having transferred the sword from its injured hand to replace the one that was lost, the creature appeared to take an intense interest in its damaged finger and the copious amounts of foul liquid welling out of it.

Then, the bleeding stopped and the chitinous exoskeleton began knitting itself back together before my very eyes.

The creature flexed its freshly healed digit and nodded approvingly. Turning back to face me again, it appeared almost surprising that I hadn’t attempted to run. Perhaps forgetting that it had a literal city full of hostages that prevented me from doing exactly that.

“Good-k-k-k! Fight-k-k-k!” The mutant beetle clacked excitedly. “Remember-k-k-k! You-k-k-k!”

Thoroughly unflattered, I prepared myself for the creature’s next attack. Then it occurred to me that I still didn’t know precisely what the damned thing wanted, or why it had attacked the city to begin with. I had simply assumed that the creature’s goal was to kill me because it had done little else so far.

But what if there was more to it?

“Wh-” Before the first syllable had left my mouth, the mutant beetle launched itself into a vicious charge. Forced to abandon my curiosity or risk biting off my tongue, I was quickly overwhelmed despite the creature having lost one of its weapons.

Already bruised to the point that my insides felt like minced meat and my brain throbbing in tandem with my heartbeat, I couldn’t react fast enough to dodge out of the way and caught a glancing blow to my right shoulder. Blood began running down my arm and compromised my grip, making it that much harder to fend off the next blow.

After several more exchanges, my right arm was too weak to continue holding Shiverfang and it fell to the ground before I could transfer it to my left hand. Staring defeatedly at the bloodied Artefact and fighting hard to breathe, I decided to make one final gamble.

With great effort, I placed my bloody and trembling fingers against my transformation tattoo and activated Sorcery. Enduring the indescribable pain, I staggered and nearly collapsed.

Up until this moment, I had done my best to ignore my Status. I had known I was losing, and that I had very little HP left. However, with my death all but guaranteed, and the creature watching on like the spectre of death itself, I didn’t see any point in avoiding it any longer.

[ HP: -12/60 ]

I grimaced and fought back the urge to laugh after I realised I had gained another point of Toughness after getting so thoroughly beaten. I was also conscious despite my HP being firmly placed at a negative value.

Despite the transformation healing my wounds, most of my vitality was gone. I could feel my body beginning to cannibalise itself for the nutrients it needed to compensate for the shortfall. However, I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Even as the creature set aside its weapons, it was obvious that the results of the fight were a forgone conclusion. Now I was just delaying the inevitable.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 75 - The approaching storm - 6 of 6

Taking a hard blow to the abdomen and crashing head over heels through a nearby building, I found it somewhat ironic that fighting the mutant barehanded had somehow turned out to be the best option.

Despite its immense size, the creature seemed to lack an Ability to amplify its unarmed damage, and while I couldn’t land a clean hit due to its superior flexibility and Agility, our exchanges were far less skewed in its favour than they had been.

My loss was still a foregone conclusion, but it would be delayed far longer than I had expected.

Blocking another punch with my elbow, I felt a grim sense of satisfaction as the mutant beetle’s fist made an audible crunch on impact.

Unphased, the creature raked the claws of its right arms down my left side, leaving shallow cuts in their wake.

Kneeing the creature in the abdomen, I rolled to the side, to escape the impending grapple, using my Chi and Earth Affinity to assist my movements as best as they could. Which was admittedly little, since I was now far larger and heavier than I had been in my human form.

The mutant beetle didn’t let up, swiping at my back and delivering several glancing blows in rapid succession but dealing little damage.

Pivoting on the spot, I attempted to deliver a backhanded blow to the creature’s upper right arm. More or less as I had expected, my blow struck nothing but empty air as the mutant beetle ducked under my fist and slammed both of its left fists into my ribs.

Grunting and doing my best to ignore the pain, I backed away as best as I was able and shielded my chest with my left arm.

Taking the bait, the creature raked at my left arm with its serrated claws but found no purchase and did little damage as its chitin scraped over the dense bones and hardened flesh of my forearm. However, after a minute of persistent attacks, the skin of my forearm was a bloody mess and the creature's claws had begun to find the purchase they needed to deal the damage the creature desired.

Shifting tactics, I was caught by an unexpected blow to the left kidney. Before I could recover the mutant beetle delivered a barrage of strikes against my ribcage and diaphragm, driving the air from my lungs and leaving me unable to retaliate or effectively defend myself.

I felt one of my ribs give way beneath the ruthless assault and could feel the blood beginning to pool in my right lung.

Staggering backward, I raised my fists and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

This was the end, I could feel it.

The mutant beetle slowly stalked forward, apparently having arrived at the same conclusion I had. “Worthy-k-k-k. Prey-k-k-k,” it clacked sombrely, seemingly disappointed that our battle would soon come to an end.

“Wh-Why?!” I demanded, falling to my hands and knees as oxygen deprivation rapidly began to take its toll. A fatal weakness that was inherent to my substantial size and mass.

The creature seemed to consider the question for several moments before arriving at an acceptable answer. “Orders-k-k-k...” It replied quietly. “Must-k-k-k. Obey-k-k-k,” Despite the absurdity of it all, the creature almost sounded apologetic.

The pain in my head had gone beyond the threshold of my perception and I could feel my nervous system shutting down.

Ironic, given that a lack of oxygen would have resulted in the same outcome if it had been given the chance.

Falling to my side, I vomited another mouthful of blood onto the street and fought hard to draw another breath but found I couldn’t manage it.

[ HP: -30/60 ]

With the world growing darker by the second, the numbers remained in perfect focus, a final twist of the knife announcing my defeat and impending death.

Pushing such thoughts aside, I tried to make my final thoughts of my family but found I couldn’t remember their faces...

***** Lurr ~ Asrusian Former Capital *****

Forced to take a seemingly endless string of detours to avoid the hordes of Humans fleeing toward the portal, Lurr could only watch in horror as the Tyrant’s HP had deteriorated.

With no more Humans to get in his way, Lurr had begun charging headlong down long stretches of empty stone paths and leaping the humans' surface caves to make up for lost time.

Only, it was not enough.

Even through his tears, Lurr could see that he had failed.

The Tyrant had fallen.

Lurr could feel the energy inside of him begging for release. Overcome with grief and rage, he did exactly that.

Power surged through his veins and lent him a swiftness he had never known was possible.

Stone paths and the surface caves passed in a blur, like rivers coated in ash.

Guided by his connection to the Tyrant, Lurr spared no thoughts for potential enemies he might encounter in his path. Solely focused on avenging the Tyrant or at the least, retrieving his body.

It would not undo his failure, but it was the least he could do for the Tyrantess and her children.

Arriving far sooner than he had expected, Lurr found two unfamiliar monsters beside the Tyrant’s body.

Howling with rage, Lurr charged. Before either creature had time to react, Lurr buried his axe shaft deep into the belly of the smaller creature, sending both it and his axe flying down the path.

The larger creature, which had been moving to fight back, abruptly leaped backward, abandoning the fight and retrieving its companion.

Lurr prepared to give chase but stopped as a board of letters and words appeared before his eyes.

[ Save the Tyrant!!! ]

[ Reward: {To be named by the individual/s that complete the Quest. (Divided according to contribution.} ]

[The Tyrant has fallen and is in critical condition! Gric, the King of Daemons, has called for all loyal subjects to escort the Tyrant to safety and ensure he receives {Healing} before it is too late! ]

Does the Tyrant live?!

Casting the creatures from his thoughts, Lurr hurriedly removed the token from his belt and took hold of the Tyrant’s cold bloody hand.

Concentrating as best as he was able, Lurr focused on his memories of Sanctuary and The Grove. Specifically, the magical portal the Tyrant had created so Lurr could visit his grandchildren and tribemates.

The energy within him swelled and surged through his body but was quickly drawn toward the token in his tightly clenched fist. Like an unstoppered waterskin in the hands of a reckless child, Lurr could feel the energy was leaving his body at an unsustainable rate and could only hope that it would be enough.

Mere seconds from losing the last of his energy, Lurr felt a profound sense of relief as the human camp was left behind and replaced with the familiar sights and smells of The Grove.

“HERE!!!” Lurr roared, straining his voice and lungs to make himself as loud as possible.

Just as he was preparing to take a second breath, one of the Daemons appeared beside him with a strange-looking staff in hand.

Without saying a word, the many-limbed female Daemon snatched the Tyrant’s hand from Lurr’s grasp and they both disappeared.

Through his connection to the Tyrant, Lurr could feel the Tyrant's presence and knew he had not been taken far. Despite the lethargy creeping into his veins, Lurr forced his weary legs to chase after the Daemon.

Leaving The Grove, Lurr was not surprised to find that he was headed for the house of Healing. After all, if Wraithe, the Healing Daemon, had not appeared to receive the Tyrant, the other Daemon would have taken the Tyrant to her.

Entering the house of Healing, Lurr took the steps in long strides, descending each floor with reckless speed.

Pushing past the Serpent-Kin at the bottom, Lurr was shocked to find the healing Daemon straddling the Tyrant’s waist and slamming her fists against his chest.

“BEAT DAMN YOU!!!” Wraithe shrieked, slamming her fists against his chest in a double-handed blow while one of the Serpent-Kin pressed a strange leather mask over the Tyrant’s face. The Daemon repeated her assault for several long moments before noticing Lurr by the entrance to the room. “YOU! COME HERE!” She demanded.

The authority in her command had Lurr halfway across the room before he even realised what was happening.

“Hand here!” Wraithe snapped, grabbing Lurr’s wrist with a strength that belied her small frame. “Now shock him!” She demanded urgently, “Use whatever you have in the tank! Just do it now!”

“...” Lurr wanted to do what she wanted, but he didn’t know how.

“Think lightningy thoughts!” Wraithe snapped, causing several of the nearby Serpentkin and lesser Healers to flinch away in fear.

“Lightning...” Lurr closed his eyes and did his best to remember the storm that had returned his strength.

He remembered the strange spell that had hung in the air. The wet feeling of the rain against his skin. The way his heart had raced as the power coursed through his veins.

The lingering remnants of the energy inside of him began to stir.

Lurr remembered the Tyrant watching over him, his eyes betraying his deep and sincere concern for Lurr’s wellbeing. The elation on the Tyrant’s face upon learning of their success...

Lurr felt the energy flow down his arm and into his hand. The scent of the storm filled his nostrils and the energy disappeared.

A fresh wave of lethargy threatened to drive Lurr to his knees, but through sheer grit and stubbornness, he remained standing. Determined to see things through to the end.

Wraithe wrapped her clawed hand around the Tyrant’s throat.

The room remained silent as a tomb.

On the verge of collapse, Lurr felt an unexpected surge in strength as energy began passing through his hand, up his arm, and back into his body.

The Tyrant’s body jerked and dark blood spattered over his mouth and chin.

“HIS SIDE!!!” Wraithe shrieked excitedly, “TURN THE TYRANT ONTO HIS SIDE!!!” She leaped off his waist and began straining her wiry muscles to their limit trying to roll the Tyrant over.

Still somewhat lethargic, Lurr was slow to act. However, it didn’t matter. Several other Daemons had entered the room without him noticing and lent their strength to Wraithe mere moments after the words had passed her razor-sharp teeth.

The Tyrant jerked again, hacking, wheezing, and expelling more of the dark blood.

Unsure what to do, Lurr considered backing away to give the Healers more space. However, before he could act on those thoughts, Wraithe pinned him in place with a deadly glare.

“You! Stay put!” Wraithe commanded. “We are not out of the woods yet! Not by a long shot! And those lightning hands of yours will be needed!”

Relieved to learn he had a justified reason for staying close to the Tyrant, Lurr nodded obediently and rested his right hand on the Tyrant’s shoulder. Unsure whether the Tyrant would need the energy himself, Lurr tried giving it back. However, it was as fruitful as pushing against a river, and Lurr quickly found himself receiving far more than he was able to return.

“Whatever you are doing, keep doing it!” Wraithe snapped without turning her head, but sparing a momentary glare from the corner of her eye to indicate she had been speaking to Lurr. “The Tyrant is not stable enough for invasive surgery! And there is no way I will risk complications from the Devil’s Spell when the Tyrant is barely hanging on by a thread as it is!”

“Perhaps a feeding tube?” One of the younger Healers, a short scrawny Human suggested meekly.

The room went silent and the small Human cowered as all eyes turned to stare at him.

“What did you say?” Wraithe asked, her voice dangerously sweet and full of the promise of violence.

The small Human gulped nervously and backed away, his body already drowning in sweat. “I-It-t’s j-jus-s-st,” the Human stammered.

Wraithe was no longer paying attention to the Human and her face shifted expressions so quickly Lurr couldn’t keep track. “No...No James is right! YOU!” She pointed a dangerously sharp claw at many-legged Daemon, “Go to the Dwergi and demand one of their larger leather hoses!”

The many-legged Daemon nodded and disappeared.

“Feeding tube...that’s a good catch, James,” Wraithe commented approvingly, “We can get far more nutrients into the Tyrant’s belly with the hose rather than relying on massaging his throat...letting his Racial Ability do most of the work and restore his vitality that much faster. I’ll remember this.” She gave the small Human a firm nod of approval before returning her focus to the Tyrant.

The small Human would have collapsed but was supported by a small crowd of other lesser Healers.

Unsure what the Healers intended, it wasn’t until Lurr witnessed them poking a hollow leather rope down the Tyrant’s throat that he began to understand.

The Tyrantess arrived shortly afterward, and despite putting on a brave face, Lurr could tell she still feared for the worst.

As time dragged by and the Tyrant’s vitality returned, it became increasingly difficult for Lurr not to share the same feelings himself when the Tyrant failed to awaken.

“The Tyrant just needs time to recover...” Wraithe explained gently, patting the Tyrantess’ arm reassuringly. “To have survived at all, it is already something of a miracle...” Her long whip-like tail twitched and she eyed the Angels and other Spirits standing quietly in the corner.

The Spirits had arrived as a group and spoken with no one, seemingly content with waiting in the corner. However, despite taking their vigil in the corner of the room, they didn’t appear to be looking at the Tyrant.

Following their collective gaze to the far side of the room, Lurr was surprised to find another Spirit was staring back at them.

Lurr was even more surprised to find the Spirit had the Tyrant’s face. However, the dark empty depths of the Spirit’s eyes felt so wrong that he couldn’t accept that they were in any way alike at all.

As if sending his gaze, the Spirit turned to face Lurr instead, and he felt his blood run cold.

“Soon...” The Spirit whispered, causing the Spirits opposite to flinch and close ranks around the youngest amongst them. “Mine...In time...” The Spirit promised nonchalantly and then evaporated like a small pool of water in the midday sun.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 75 - The approaching storm - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 75 - The approaching storm - Part One

Settling the Oba clan into their new city was a relatively straightforward process. Just like the other refugees I had taken under my banner, they were highly motivated and wanted to settle in and establish a home for themselves as quickly as possible.

With the native beasts forcibly evicted and incapable of passing through the established boundary, the clan was free to explore the city. So it came as little surprise when the clan ultimately settled within a palatial estate that had no doubt once housed the family of the city lord or governor.

The grounds of the estate held large fields and gardens. However, the gardens were overgrown and the fields were empty.

Under Hana’s care, the fields took on new life. Providing a harvest of comparatively Chi-rich grains and vegetables that would serve as a foundation for the clan’s future self-sufficiency.

For my part, I erected several Energy Gathering Arrays around the estate and combined them into a singular Formation that would concentrate the effects into the fields and gardens. Drawing both Wood-aligned energy and unaligned energy, the Formation would serve as an experiment to determine the effects on both the plants as well as the Cultivators themselves.

While creating the Formation, I found myself staring at the mountain that had become Lurr’s new home.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I hadn’t done enough on his behalf. However, short of forcing the Cultivators to trigger more Tribulations, I didn’t know what to do.

As my thoughts began to wander anew, I realised I had overlooked a specific tool that was uniquely suited to providing a certain measure of assistance.

Stormcaller.

The Artefact that had once belonged to the Liche and could manipulate the weather and enhance certain Spells.

I had entrusted the Artefact to Garn’s safekeeping, allowing the Daemon to Conquer additional territories on my behalf.

After completing the Formation, I relocated to Lurr’s mountain and after Summoning Garn’s projection, explained my intentions.

I wanted Garn to gather a thunderstorm above the mountain as a test to determine if the energy of the storm could be syphoned into the Arrays.

Garn would not be available for several hours but agreed to do as I asked once he returned to Sanctuary.

In preparation for Garn’s return, and fulfilling my promise to Lurr, I began experimenting with Teleportation Arrays and Formations.

I had witnessed several examples while remotely viewing Sebet within Yi Gim’s realm and had written instructions from a manual. However, even with these advantages, it took the better part of the day before I managed to create a stable connection.

Similar to Ril’s Gateways, the paired Formations could be powered externally by the traveller’s Chi or internally from a reservoir collected by an Array. Furthermore, while I could link the two Formations in an exclusive connection, I opted for an open but otherwise conditional connection instead. Provided the traveller had a token allowing access to their intended destination, they would be able to teleport to any Formation that was added to the network.

I had hoped that my Spatial Affinity would be able to play a role in the creation of the Teleportation Arrays. Unfortunately, I had no examples or instructions to draw from, and any attempts at explicitly including my Spatial-aligned Chi met with failure.

The worst of the experiments caused the Spatial Chi-infused jade of one Formation to violently implode while the other exploded, sending the material of both Formations skittering down the mountainside.

With a stable Teleportation Formation set in the Grove, and the other on top of Lurr’s mountain, Garn was the first to test the connection established between them.

Despite being utterly alien to the Cultivation system, Garn traversed the connection without any signs of difficulty.

“My Tyrant,” Garn chittered, jaw vibrating in excitement, causing his razor-sharp incisors to faintly scrape against one another and produce a small spray of sparks.

Lean to the point of emaciation, Garn was the exception to the Daemons' more literal pursuit of strength. However, his incredibly light frame, supported by powerful tendons, allowed Garn to traverse all manner of terrain without giving away his presence. Similarly, his minimalist form combined with his large bat-like wings allowed Garn to propel himself through the sky at great speeds while expending little energy.

Despite his differences, Garn was still a Daemon. Still a natural-born apex predator.

“There were no problems?” I asked, unable to keep the concern from my voice.

Garn vehemently shook his head, dark eyes gleaming from the shadowed recesses of their sockets. “No, my Tyrant! I am whole and healthy!”

I had to fight hard not to smirk. “I’m glad,” I admitted freely. “I had not expected any... complications...But I’m still thankful there weren’t any.”

Legs bent and back arched to keep himself low to the ground, Garn made a point of standing a little taller. “It is my pleasure to serve!” He insisted happily, beaming with appreciation. It didn’t bother him that I had placed him in a potential position of danger, only that I cared he had escaped unscathed.

Not for the first time, I had to remind myself that the Daemons weren’t dogs. As loyal as they were, there was a darkness in their souls, a host of barely restrained destructive impulses, that left the Daemons firmly entrenched on the human end of the spectrum.

“Even so,” I insisted, “I’m glad for your assistance.” I removed my magical cowl and passed it to Garn. “To boost your MP regeneration so that we can give the test the best chance at success.”

Garn graciously accepted the magic item without complaint, and after changing its size, carefully pulled it over his head and settled it on his shoulders.

I Summoned a generic projection of a furry Kobold and motioned for Garn to proceed.

Lurr watched our activities from his place beneath the peach tree but otherwise seemed content to remain an observer.

With Stormcaller clutched tightly in one clawed hand, Garn began gathering his MP.

I immediately felt a shift in the ambient energy atop the mountain. Through Garn, the Artefact was agitating the ambient energies from the surrounding area and drawing them toward the mountain.

Within less than a minute, dark storm clouds had begun gathering overhead and the strong smell of ozone filled the air.

I could feel the energy changing, aligning itself to the storm. It lacked the same concentration as the energy already present on the mountaintop. However, the volume was on an entirely different scale and increased with each passing moment.

Thunder-aligned energy was being drawn into the Formation, but not nearly fast enough to outpace the rate at which new Thunder-aligned energy was being made just beyond its boundaries.

To my surprise, small arcs of electricity began playing over the leaves and branches of the peach tree.

Extending my senses, I was even more surprised to find that the peach tree was actively drawing energy toward itself. The amount of energy was comparatively small, but I could feel it straining itself, desperately clawing at the energy around itself as if it were on the brink of starvation.

Leaving Garn’s side, I approached the tree and considered it more closely.

It was dying.

I wasn’t sure how I knew it, just that I did. Despite appearing at the peak of health, it was dying.

Resting my hand against the trunk of the tree, I could feel its intangible presence pulling at my spirit, pulling at the energy in my veins.

Resisting the urge to pull away, I settled into the steady rhythm of my breathing Technique and began releasing the energy it craved in a small steady stream.

Even with my assistance, I only became more aware of the tree’s approaching demise. However, there was something else as well, a second presence that was slowly taking shape in the tree’s branches.

Looking at the branches, I watched as a small bud slowly took shape into a fruit and began to swell.

Smouldering leaves began falling in droves and the tree’s branches began to blacken, wither and burn.

The tree’s desperation suddenly increased several-fold and I felt it pulling at my soul with frenzied vigour. However, despite all its efforts, it lacked the strength or perhaps the means to do anything without my consent.

Against my better judgement, I allowed the tree to draw not only on my Chi but my internal energy as well.

Despite my internal energy being replenished nearly as fast as it was drained, the draining itself was accompanied by a small degree of pain throughout my entire body. The pain didn’t decrease with time but it didn’t increase either. I resolved to cut off the connection if the pain increased further, reasonably certain that the pain indicated a certain degree of risk for a danger I was otherwise unaware of.

Persisting through the pain, I felt a feeling of what I could only interpret as gratitude emanating from the tree.

Then, without warning, it died.

I felt its spirit collapse beneath my touch and felt the bark of the tree crumble against my fingers.

As if it had rotted from the inside out, its limbs and trunk began to crack and splinter.

Reaching out my hand, I gently cradled the solitary peach in my palm.

The remainder of the tree fell to the ground shortly afterwards, leaving nothing but a ragged crumbling stump to mark its passing.

A part of me insisted that I should feel something in response to what had happened. The tree had been alive, in its own way. Now, all that remained was an empty husk and the watermelon-sized peach cradled in my palm.

Lurr knelt beside the stump and bowed his head.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead and heavy rain began to fall.

Several minutes passed before I realised I was cradling the peach protectively against my chest, shielding it from the storm. There was something about the action that just seemed...right...Like I was acting on protective instincts from the primitive recesses of my brain.

Even without extending my senses, I could feel a spirit-stirring within the peach, similar yet distinct from the spirit I had sensed within the tree. Stranger still, I could sense small traces of mana circulating alongside the Affinity-aligned energies.

Unlike the hybrid plants scattered about the mountaintop, the two energies moved in harmony with one another, instead of competition. A phenomenon that I had only witnessed within myself and my children.

Uncertain how long I had been standing in the rain, I was drawn from my thoughts as I felt the energies within the peach begin to stir. Synchronising with the swelling energies within, the flesh of the peach moved beneath my fingers and I could feel something taking shape inside.

After what felt like the better part of an hour, the skin of the peach tore apart along its seam. However, instead of exposing the creamy orange-pink flesh I had expected, I found a small girl of about six or seven lying in my palm instead.

Clothed in a short robe that matched the skin and flesh of a peach, the small girl had short pink hair and pale skin. Except for her hair, she looked human. Just by looking at her, I was surprised to find that I knew her name.

Momoko.

The ramifications of that particular fact struck me harder than all the strangeness I had witnessed thus far. This was because there was only one explanation for how I could know the child’s name without her being recruited as a subject.

She was my daughter.

Momoka was as much my child as Pete and Suzy. At least, so far as the system was concerned.

Sure enough, I found Momoka’s name had joined the twins on my Status.

Hundreds of thoughts began flying through my mind, each competing for prime of place and my undivided attention. Subsequently ensuring that none of them received more than a few moments of my time before another took its place.

“Is child?” Lurr’s surprised exclamation gave me a few moments of peace as my mind was forced to shift mental gears.

“Her name is Momoka,” I replied, somewhat automatically.

Lurr nodded, scrunched his wrinkled brow, looked at Momoka for a few moments and then up at me. “Is Tyrant’s daughter?”

The old warrior’s intuition caught me momentarily off guard. “She is,” I answered truthfully, knowing that lying not only wouldn’t work for any meaningful amount of time but wouldn’t serve much purpose either.

Lurr relaxed and nodded to himself, seemingly content with my answer. He looked at the child with the same gentle warmth all the Variants used when dealing with children. Species didn’t really matter to them. Which may in part be related to Evolution occasionally diverging a son or daughter from their parents’ Species.

I could only hope Lash would be nearly so accommodating...

Adopting Eg was one thing, but accepting Momoka would be something else entirely. Eg was a parentless orphan and would be a companion to Pete and Suzy. Momoka was...I was rankled at the thought of identifying her as a bastard, but I couldn’t think of another word that fits the general circumstance.

The system had determined that Momoka was my daughter. My daughter, not mine and Lash’. By definition, it made her a bastard.

Lash had, initially, expected and even somewhat encouraged the pursuit of secondary wives. At the time, I had, rather bluntly, insisted I was monogamous and had no intentions of seeking another wife. Nothing had changed since then, but Momoka’s existence would give Lash more than ample cause to doubt me.

Still unsure what exactly had happened, I wouldn’t blame her if she did.

Returning to Sanctuary, I explained things as best I could to Lash. All the while cradling Momoka’s sleeping form against my bare chest.

“I believe you,” Lash stated confidently, taking me entirely by surprise.

“You do? Why?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

Lash considered me for a moment, her amethyst eyes staring into my soul. “You lie badly,” she replied matter of factly, smiling slightly to herself in amusement.

“That...That’s probably true,” I admitted, keenly aware that I had never given it much practice.

“Her name is...Mo-mo-kay?” Lash uncertainly sounded out the name one syllable at a time.

“Close,” I replied supportively, offering Lash the opportunity to hold Momoka and take a closer look at her. “I am reasonably certain it's pronounced, Momoka.”

“Momoka,” Lash repeated, earning a muted mumble from the small girl pressed against her breast. Smiling down at Momoka with maternal grace, Lash gently rocked her into a deeper sleep.

Saying the name aloud, and hearing it several more times besides, made me realise something that made me feel profoundly uncomfortable. Momoka didn’t sound Chinese or Korean. It sounded Japanese.

Given Hana’s involvement on the mountain, specifically with the peach tree, I felt all but certain what I would find if I were to check her Status.

Before I could work up the nerve, Hana awkwardly invited herself into our home. “Tim? Do you have a moment? There’s something-oh!...” She blinked in surprise, her emerald green eyes firmly focused on Momoka.

“She hatched from a peach,” I said calmly as if it explained everything and wasn’t at all absurd.

“Oh...” Hana eyed Lash nervously, “Do you mind if I?...” She held out her hands and nodded toward Momoka.

Lash sighed with visible disappointment and reluctantly passed the small girl into Hana’s waiting arms.

Hana’s face glowed with understated happiness as she cradled Momoka in her arms. “I didn’t think I would feel like this, holding her I mean...” She blushed with embarrassment but it passed quickly as she looked down at the slumbering child in her arms.

“I don’t suppose you know how this happened?” I asked, already certain that I would be disappointed.

Hana shrugged unhelpfully. “What exactly happened?”

I explained events as best as I could remember them, making sure not to leave anything out.

Hana appeared just as confused as I was. “I don’t understand either...” She admitted somewhat shyly. “But there is a chance that you may have further altered the tree...But the Spirit you said was inside the tree-”

“It wasn’t a Spirit kind of spirit,” I interjected, “It was...something else...like a soul...”

“Couldn’t it have been a Spirit from the other system?” Hana asked.

“Maybe...” I agreed somewhat hesitantly. “I haven’t met any others, so I don’t have a frame of reference to work with.”

Hana frowned in obvious confusion and glanced down at Momoka, her suspicions obvious.

“It felt similar,” I admitted, after giving it some thought and reflecting on what had happened.

Our conversation was interrupted as Nadine stiffly invited herself in. “Tim? There’s something you need to come and see,” she insisted anxiously.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, already moving toward the door.

“It’s...hem...somewhat private?” Nadine's pale cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment.

After leaving the tunnel, I began walking toward Nadine and Fesk’s home.

“Ah, it’s not us!” Nadine called out as she jogged to catch up.

I stopped mid-stride and looked back at Nadine in confusion.

“It’s Clarice and Sebet...” Nadine hissed, shielding her mouth from view despite our relative isolation.

With a single thought, I relocated us both to Sebet’s tower.

“And I’m assuming that I am not going to like whatever it is I am walking into?” I asked, already sending out my senses and locking onto Sebet’s position. As a powerful Devil, she shone like a beacon despite her lack of Chi.

Before Nadine could reply, I relocated us both to Sebet’s location.

Firmly closing my eyes, I tried to push the images of Clarice’s compromising position from my mind. It was a feat made all the more difficult due to the assorted bindings and esoteric objects I had to remove by using my authority.

Despite her nakedness, and the compromising position I had found her in, Clarice showed no signs of embarrassment as she raced across the room. Vaulting over modified chairs, tables and several articles of furniture that were affixed with exotic paraphernalia that my mind couldn’t ignore or reclassify as anything beyond their obvious carnal purposes.

Sebet lay unconscious on the floor in her true form, clad in a strange outfit made of thin leather belts and buckles, a riding crop and something...abandoned at her sides.

“She just cried out and fell!” Clarice exclaimed anxiously, hurriedly unbuckling the belts and buckles around Sebet’s neck and chest.

Despite her embarrassment, Nadine was close behind her.

“She hasn’t lost any HP, and there is nothing noteworthy in her Status,” I announced for Nadine’s benefit. “Is it possible that, whatever you two were doing, may have caused enough stress to cause her to faint?”

“No,” Clarice replied firmly, “We weren’t doing anything yet.” She ran her fingers anxiously through her short red hair and I couldn’t help but notice how badly she was shaking. “She said something about an ambush and then...then she just fell...”

“An ambush?” My eyes drifted to Sebet’s face and something in my mind clicked.

Casting my consciousness to remotely observe Sebet’s clones, I found nothing. They were gone.

“I know what knocked Sebet out,” I announced grimly, too overcome by considering the implications to care about Clarice’s state of undress. “Her clones, the Empowered Summons, are dead. Their collective memories were probably too much to handle...” Clarice’s sincere concern was unsettling, but it also made me feel more than a little guilty. Whatever Clarice and Sebet’s relationship was, it mattered to her. “Sebet will be fine...She just needs to process all the memories,” I explained in as comforting a tone as I could manage.

Clarice nodded quietly and remained by Sebet’s side, worriedly working at the remaining straps and buckles.

I caught Nadine’s eye and nodded toward the far side of the room, intending to afford Clarice a certain degree of privacy.

Nadine whispered some encouraging words to Clarice and then followed me across the room.

“How did you know Clarice needed help?” I asked bluntly, “And why did you need my help?”

Nadine’s cheeks blushed and she remained silent for several moments. “Clarice and I were going to go shopping in one of the markets. I went looking for her when she didn’t meet me at the appointed place...” The blush left her cheeks and Nadine worried at the hem of her tunic, “I went looking for Clarice and heard her calling out from the crack under the door-” She pointed to the floor beneath the only door in or out of the room. “I tried opening the door, but it’s locked...”

“And since Sebet and Clarice are probably the only ones with keys...” I guessed and nodded my head in understanding.

“I hope you don’t mind?” Nadine asked nervously. “I mean, we haven’t exactly spoken much recently...” She explained anxiously, “Not that I haven’t wanted to!” Nadine added hastily, “It’s just, that Fesk and I have been busy, and Clarice has her own thing going on as well...”

“It’s fine, I get it,” I sighed. “I’ve been busy as well, but I probably could have made more of an effort...It’s just, there is always something demanding my attention. Something that needs doing. And on the rare occasion there isn’t, I just feel like I should be spending it with Lash and my kids, you know?”

Nadine nodded in understanding, “I don’t think anyone could blame you for feeling that way.” She looked back toward Sebet and Clarice and then grew sombre. “Even busier now, I don’t doubt.”

“Probably,” I agreed, unwilling to commit to anything further without receiving an explanation from Sebet.

A long silence passed between us.

“Tim, have you given any thought to when you are going to begin the Humans Mothers Moon?” Nadine asked somewhat awkwardly. It caught me off guard by the change in topic.

“I have...” I stalled while shifting mental gears. “I wanted to inform and educate the Human population first. Let them know about what to expect and how to plan around it. But I kept getting busy...”

“I could take responsibility for it,” Nadine volunteered eagerly. “You wouldn’t need to give me a title or anything, most of the nobility already know we’re friends.”

“What do you plan to do?” I asked warily, “Go village to village and town to town giving sex-ed classes?”

Nadine’s cheeks flushed slightly in response, but she determinedly held her gaze. “If I have to, but I think it would be more efficient to just invite all the lords and ladies and explain things in one go. Jacque wasn’t shy about letting Lash know how many Asrusians have made subtle inquiries, and the Semenovian Queen was rather blunt in asking Lash about it as well...”

“So you want to host a sort of sex-ed symposium?” I knew I was being somewhat facetious, but it wasn’t a bad idea.

Theoretically, the nobility would pass information along to their respective subjects. After all, they had a vested interest in not only maintaining the numbers of their subjects but also increasing them. The more subjects they had, the more promotions that would be available. More subjects would also allow those who had an Underlord or higher title to receive more Exp to assign as quest rewards.

The fact that the latter benefits wouldn’t manifest for quite some time wouldn’t matter. The majority of the established nobility had proven they had a penchant for taking the long view on most issues, or at least investigating the benefits of doing so.

“You should do that,” I decided. “Send invitations in my name if you need to, and you can take what you need from the treasury to pay for it all.”

Nadine nodded eagerly, “Alright, but where should I host the gathering? You probably don’t want them in Sanctuary, right?”

“The city hall in Port Gidian, or any of the major cities would probably serve your needs,” I suggested, ignoring the sore subject of Humans visiting Sanctuary in large numbers. “The Dwergi would probably be more than happy to host the event if you don’t want to be worried about being seen playing favourites.”

“Playing favourites?” Nadine asked nervously, frowning slightly as she considered things. “You’re right, maybe approaching the Dwergi would be for the best...They do have a Gateway. Which would make it just as easy for most nobles to attend...”

“They could make a conference hall to fit your needs at short notice as well,” I added. “Earth Mages make things convenient like that.”

“I suppose they would,” Nadine smiled briefly but it faded as she glanced at Clarice from the corner of her eye. “Do you really think Sebet will be alright?” She asked quietly.

I nodded slowly, confident in my instincts. At least in this particular instance. “If Sebet doesn’t wake up on her own, I’ll have Gric or one of the other Daemons help her. I haven’t experienced the effects of the memory overlap, but I strongly suspect Sebet’s special Coven Ability is working against her, multiplying the number of memories...” It was the only explanation I could think of and it seemed right when I spoke it aloud.

Nadine shifted uncomfortably for a few moments, nodded, and then moved back to Clarice’s side. Offering whispered words of comfort. Conjuring a blanket from Sanctuary’s storage, I joined them a few moments later, draping the rough cloth over Clarice’s bare shoulders before sitting on the floor more or less beside her.

Closer to her eye level, I could see just how scared Clarice was. Holding Sebet’s limp hand so tightly that black ichor dribbled down from the Devil’s palm and down her arm,

Unable to bear seeing Clarice in such distress, I exercised my authority and ‘requested’ Gric’s presence.

As a vessel for a small portion of my authority, I was able to give Gric the choice to refuse the call. Not that I expected he would. I just intended to provide him the opportunity to settle whatever he may be doing before accepting. With so many of my friends and closest allies in committed relationships, there was an increasingly high risk of interrupting something or calling upon them at an inopportune time. It was one of the primary reasons I preferred Summoning copies of them instead. However, it seemed inappropriate to do so now, given the cause of Sebet’s current condition.

Several minutes later, Gric accepted the request. Standing only a few feet away from Sebet, he stared down at her unconscious form coldly. “She is trapped within herself,” Gric commented indifferently, “Such incompetence...” He muttered disdainfully.

Clarice stared at Gric incredulously, hurt swelling in her eyes.

Gric shifted uncomfortably. “I am sorry...” He apologised, surprising us all with his unexpected and unsolicited expression of remorse and demonstration of rudimentary empathy.

I knew that Gric was not deliberately cruel by nature. It was not because I believed Gric was misunderstood and had a warm fuzzy heart under his gruff exterior. Far from it. I knew that Gric viewed cruelty for its own sake as woefully inefficient and a waste of his time. However, I had believed Gric held similar views toward overt displays of compassion and remorse...

It was strange to witness evidence to the contrary, and I had to wonder if Gric’s relationship with Talia had borne entirely unexpected fruit.

If I was honest with myself, I had initially suspected Gric had begun his relationship with the Elf for more ‘primal’ and entirely utilitarian reasons. Later, I learned that Gric was trying to better understand people, and I had not given the matter much further thought until he had left Sanctuary to seek out Talia’s people.

Even so, I hadn’t expected Gric’s nascent empathy to extend any further. Much less toward Clarice.

Not because Clarice had done anything to earn his ire, not really anyway. But I had expected her association with Sebet to warrant a form of inherited enmity.

It was then that I realised how much of an idiot I was being. If I was the Daemons’ father, then Clarice, Nadine and even Emelia could be considered their mothers. We had fed them, clothed them, and cared for them as hatchlings. As short a time as that had been, the Daemons looked up to us with near-fanatical devotion.

Earning Clarice’s disapproval, and worse, her disappointment, it was little wonder even Gric had seen fit to apologise.

Without saying another word, Gric stared coldly at Sebet’s face and his dark eyes grew ever so slightly unfocused.

Several moments passed in silence.

“This will take a while...” Gric grunted unhappily, “She had confused herselves and become...entangled...” He looked away from Sebet and fixed me with an intense stare. “There is something else, my Tyrant. She appears to have uncovered something important...” Gric’s eyes grew unfocused again, but he didn’t look away. “There is a conspiracy, a reason why they are seizing the Ogres and won’t let them go...” His brow furrowed in frustration and his lips slowly curled into a snarl. “They....They are taken to the biggest city...the capital, taken somewhere...” Gric shook his head and hissed in annoyance, “She is being most unhelpful,” he scowled at Sebet with open disdain, deliberately avoiding looking at Clarice as he did so.

“You are talking about the Aldmeri Dominion?” I pressed, throwing off my initial unbalance.

Gric nodded in the affirmative. “I cannot yet be certain, but it appears that these humans make no distinction between adults and children. All are taken to the city and later are put to work...She made no indication as to why this is so...and the information was taken from another shortly before the copy was terminated...”

“So it could just be a rumour then?” I asked, trying to suppress my disappointment. It was a blow to go so long without an answer only to learn that it wasn’t any more solid than a bank of sand in a storm.

A fraction of my own disappointment was reflected in Gric’s eyes. Despite literally being nothing besides the messenger, passing along information on Sebet’s behalf no less, he was taking my disappointment personally.

***** Albert ~ Bastien’s Demi-Plane ~ Gate of Triumph *****

Standing atop a concrete fortification, Albert felt a familiar thrill of excitement run up his spine, he had visited this site often since coming of age five years prior. Having served the duration of his mandatory enlistment with distinction, Albert was no longer a conscript and now held an officer's commission of Captain in the Seventh Legion.

Despite sharing the blood of the first Emperor himself, Albert chose not to take banishment to the Seventh Legion as a punishment, but as an opportunity. With only a relative handful of truebloods to compete against for glory and prestige, Albert’s accomplishments would stand out all the brighter.

Climbing down the ladder on the side of the bunker and into the trenches, Albert acknowledged the stiff salutes of the line troopers with a firm nod. Despite their status as thinbloods, Albert knew better than to disrespect them without cause. Not only would such reckless callousness damage morale, but it was dangerous to an officer’s chances of survival.

Officers who went out of their way to insult and deride the thinbloods had a long-standing history of falling on their swords or becoming isolated in the heat of battle.

Just because the thinbloods shared a single face, did not mean that they were stupid. There were several documented cases of troopers using this trait to their advantage. Exacting revenge and then changing uniform and identification tags with another trooper that had fallen in a previous skirmish or raid deeper in the Labyrinth.

“Six! Eleven!” Albert called out and raised his left hand above the trench line to signal his location.

Several moments later, two troopers in heavy overcoats, iron cuirass and helmets fell into step beside him.

“Are the men ready?” Albert asked without breaking stride, calculating each step to land on a wooden sleeper instead of the mud at every available opportunity.

“Ready and eager, sir,” Six replied, his deep crimson face splitting into a sharp-toothed smile.

“We issued extra rations, just as you said, sir,” Eleven added, mirroring Six’s approval.

“Good,” Albert replied with immense satisfaction. “While we do not have the honour of serving as the tip of the spear, maintaining high morale will be crucial to ensuring we gather as many merits as possible.”

Six and Eleven nodded obediently in agreement. As thinbloods, they both knew that Albert was their best hope for advancement and a retirement worth fighting for. If they accumulated enough commendations they would earn full citizenship and the right to seek out a Mate.

“Good,” Albert repeated, this time to himself. He had groomed Six and Eleven for the better part of two years, all in anticipation of this opportunity.

Albert’s father had died serving in the Fifth Legion after his troopers broke ranks, fleeing the field and leaving him for dead with a broken leg. Torn to pieces and devoured by the wild Beasts of the frontier, there hadn’t been anything left to burn at his funeral.

It was a lesson Albert had taken to heart. While on the campaign, he would not only need people to watch his back but also people who would be strongly motivated to ensure his continued survival.

As his official bodyguards, Six and Eleven held just the right amount of ambition to fulfil Albert’s needs.

After returning to his quarters, Albert waved toward a long shallow straw-filled crate by the wall. “There is something special for the both of you in there,” he commented distractedly while giving his sabre a final inspection before sheathing it and attaching the scabbard to his belt.

As an officer, there was an established tradition that required Albert to carry a sabre. Even if he never chose to make use of it, he still needed to keep it in good condition. A superior could call for a surprise inspection and use poor maintenance of equipment as an excuse to justify a request for demotion.

Albert knew better than to give any potential detractors such an opportunity.

Placing his rifle on the table, Albert gave it the same meticulous care he had afforded to the sabre.

While cleaning the bore, Albert couldn’t help but wonder at the first Emperor’s genius. Before the Emperor united the tribes under his rule, the humans had taken from them at will. However, the early rifles created by the first Emperor had changed things.

With fire and blood, the first Emperor drove the humans from the tribes’ lands and took his throne. The Felix Seven, so named after the first Emperor and seventh iteration of its line, was now the standard armament of troopers and officers alike. Far stronger and more accurate than the primitive weaponry of the humans, the Felix Seven could reliably hit targets fifteen hundred feet away and inflict grievous injury.

Briefly glancing at the pair of short-barrelled Bastien Ones’, named for the current Emperor, now in the admiring hands of Six and Eleven, Albert felt another surge of pride. Lacking the range of the Felix Seven, the Bastien One was only effective out to a range of ten feet. However, it ripped foot-wide holes in any target within that ten feet, felling even the strongest Beasts if a trooper had the nerve and state of mind to hold his ground and fire at point-blank range.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Six and Eleven gleefully began taking the Bastien Ones apart and meticulously cleaning their firing mechanisms.

Albert had considered requesting a Bastien One for himself, but he had ultimately decided against it. Securing just two of the cutting-edge weapons had cost him many favours, a third would have left him without recourse against his rivals.

Besides, Albert preferred the greater utility afforded by the Felix Seven. Even Six and Eleven would be required to carry a Felix in addition to the Bastien. Not that they would begrudge the extra weight and general encumbrance.

Once finished attending to his equipment, Albert spared a few minutes to review his latest orders. Finding no contradictions with his existing order, he burned the papers in the brazier by his desk and then tied his shoulder-length hair back into a tight tail before donning his helmet.

Reviewing his appearance in the small mirror fitted onto the wall, Albert’s focus was immediately drawn to his deep blue skin and eyes. They were the most obvious indicators of his status as a trueblooded descendent of the first Emperor. Thickbloods had varying shades of mauve and even burgundy skin and eyes, but never the deep rich blue unique to the truebloods.

One of the things Albert appreciated about the helmet was how it protected his ears from view. Only the size of his first two fingers, his ears were considered small by the standards of his people, and Albert had long since grown tired of the jibes of his rivals. Inherited from his mother, they were thankfully offset by the strong flat nose Albert had inherited from his father.

With his ears hidden from view, Albert believed he cut quite the heroic figure. Even if he did say so himself.

Leading Six and Eleven out to the mustering grounds, Albert took his place ahead of his men. With two hundred troopers in all, including ten thickblood Sergeants who reported directly to Albert himself, the force was dwarfed by the greater ranks of the legion itself.

Numbering in the tens of thousands, the Seventh Legion had a single mandate from the Emperor. To pass through the portal, take the fight to the humans on the other side and then fortify the land surrounding the other side of the portal.

Standing at attention, Albert watched as the general of the Seventh Legion climbed the ceremonial steps that had been assembled before the portal. With one smooth motion, the general drew his sabre and levelled it towards the portal. “For the Emperor! CHARGE!”

A mighty cry rose from the legion and a thousand men marched in lockstep towards the portal. When they came within the final hundred feet, they broke into a run and rushed through the portal.

On cue, Albert signalled his men forward as other Captains did the same.

Passing through the portal, Albert found himself in a large stone courtyard flanked on all sides by high stone walls pockmarked by rifle fire and adorned with bleeding corpses.

The gate on the far end of the courtyard had already been blown apart by a specially prepared explosive. A bunker buster, as the Troopers called them. Paying homage to the notorious mishandling of such an explosive that blew apart a munitions bunker more than three decades prior.

Gunfire rattled from beyond the walls and several large bells rang ominously in the distance.

Ignoring the dead troopers scattered around the courtyard, Albert led his men forward and through the gate.

After passing through several more specially prepared human fortifications, Albert and his men now stood on the streets of the human city itself.

Humans and thinblood troopers lay dead and bleeding out in the streets. The humans’ armour was no match for the troopers' rifles, but a human with enough levels could still manage to inflict a fatal injury if given the opportunity to do so.

“SIR!” Six called in alarm grabbing Albert by the arm and pulling him back just in time for an arrow to thrum past Albert’s face and splinter against the cobbled street.

Several rifles fired in a staggered retort and a bloody human corpse tumbled from a nearby rooftop, striking the ground with a wet crunch.

Four troopers rushed forward and stabbed the mangled body with their bayonets, although it was unclear whether it was out of bloodlust or caution.

Nodding to Six in thanks, Albert drew his sabre and pointed toward the left fork in the road ahead of them. “Forward!” He barked, ordering the troopers forward.

Troopers surged past Albert and began charging down the road, rifles raised and scanning the surrounding rooftops.

Following behind his men, Albert watched as time and again, the humans would throw themselves the oncoming tide of troopers. The overwhelming majority died without accomplishing anything besides depleting the troopers' stores of ammunition.

The strategy made little sense until Albert realised there were very few females amongst the humans dead, and he had seen no signs of their children whatsoever.

Now that he had noticed this, Albert realised that the humans were throwing themselves at the troopers with the sole intention of slowing the legion’s advance.

In all his years fighting the humans, Albert had never seen anything like it. The humans had always been so selfish and cowardly, fleeing the field and leaving their wounded for dead.

It didn’t make sense.

Why were they behaving so differently now?

Albert could understand the drive to preserve the children. He wasn’t a thinblood. But why were the females abandoning their Mates to die? Surely more of them would have lingered to buy more time for the children to escape?

Distracted to a dangerous degree by his troubled thoughts, Albert forced himself to focus on his immediate surroundings.

From the corner of his eye, Albert spotted movement in the space between the nearby buildings.

Waving Six and Eleven forward, Albert held his sabre at the ready.

Six and Eleven slung their rifles over their shoulders and changed to the Felix which was better suited for a close-quarters confrontation.

A human child with torn pants and sandy hair stumbled out from its hiding place. The child, no more than a few feet tall, stared at Albert with haunted eyes. Hands covered in blood and with bloody streaks on its cheeks, the child bore no signs of personal injury. However, looking past the child, Albert saw a human female sprawled out on the ground, her clothes soaked with blood.

Tears streaming from its eyes, the human child screamed and revealed a small knife that had been hidden behind its back.

Before the child could so much as take a step...

Before Albert could order them to stop...

Six and Eleven levelled their weapons and fired.

The child’s right arm and most of its torso evaporated into red mist, killing it instantly.

Staring down at the child’s mutilated body, Albert felt an irrepressible surge of revulsion and anger. “Why did you do that?!” He demanded.

Six and Eleven glanced warily at one another in confusion.

“The human was carrying a weapon,” Six replied evenly, not the least affected by what he had done.

“The human was going to attack you,” Eleven agreed, just as matter-of-factly.

“It was a child...” Albert countered hoarsely, struggling to suppress the bile rising in his throat.

Six and Eleven both shrugged indifferently and Albert felt a cold chill run down his spine as he came to appreciate just how great their differences were and why the Seventh Legion had been chosen for this ‘honour’.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 74 - Power and privilege - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 74 - Power and privilege - Part Two

Except for Keith, the other finalists were presented the opportunity to fight against a projection of one of the Ainsleys to earn a place amongst them as my champion.

Gnar had declined, content with the prizes and prestige from the tournament. Becoming my champion would raise his status amongst his kind, but it would also carry additional risks. Gnar was one of the handful of Gnolls that had fought alongside Rikit and nearly starved to death within the undead-infested city of Mournbrent. Compelled by his Slave Collar to defend the grounds of the tannery workshop while his Masters fled the city.

I respected Gnar’s choice and dismissed his projection.

Itzal had requested time to consider her options. Given she was still the monster equivalent of a teenager, I had no problems accepting her deferment. However, I didn’t dismiss her projection right away.

Trask and Brok accepted the instant they were asked and chose to fight Randle and Faine respectively.

Under normal circumstances, Randle would have fared far worse than Keith had done against Trask. However, Thundering Strikes proved more than capable of bypassing Trask’s natural defences, inflicting a heavy toll in the opening exchanges of their duel. Randle didn’t emerge unscathed, but once Trask made the mistake of going on the defensive, it was all over.

Brok fared a little better against Faine but was ultimately defeated when the terrain was reshaped to imprison him. Allowing Faine to execute him at his leisure.

Randle and Faine had both been at an Evolutionary disadvantage. Possessing significantly less Strength, Toughness and combat Racial Abilities. However, their specialised Class and access to my Spells proved more than capable of compensating for their fundamental disadvantages.

“They can both casst Sspellss?” Itzal’s tail undulated with what I assumed was an expression of intense interest. Most of her face was hidden behind a soft leather veil, so it was difficult to be certain without seeing her face.

“It is a boon granted to all my champions,” I replied evenly, pretending not to notice Keith’s mounting frustration.

Itzal’s serpentine eyes widened briefly in surprise before taking on a hungry predatory intensity.

“Each Spell I learn through my Ability is shared with my champions, making them more formidable and able to counter a wider range of threats,” I added, baiting the hook.

Itzal’s long forked tongue darted from beneath her veil, tasting the air as she silently studied Randle and Faine’s projections. After several minutes had passed, Itzal humbly lowered her head. “My Tyrant, it would be my honour to sseerve you ass your champion,” Itzal hissed in supplication. She raised her head and then pointed determinedly at Randle and Faine. “To prove my ssinsserity, I would fasse them both!”

Itzal’s request caught me off guard for a moment. “Are you certain?” I asked, allowing her to alter her request.

Itzal nodded determinedly. “I am ssertain, my Tyrant!” Her tail lashed the ground violently and her eyes flashed with anticipation.

I dismissed Randle and Faine’s damaged projections and then replaced them, dividing my MP between them.

Without needing to be asked, Randle and Faine made their way over to an open space and began planning their means of attack.

Already gathering her MP, Itzal took her place a few dozen feet away from them and loosed the cord holding up one end of her veil, revealing her face.

Mostly human in appearance, the rounded mound and slits where her nose should have been immediately set her apart. However, as Itzal unhinged her jaw, her face took on an altogether monstrous appearance that banished any passing resemblance she had shared with humanity.

Arriving at some form of silent agreement, both sides began to move at the same time.

With his spear set in front of him, Faine charged forward.

Standing his ground, Randle raised a wall of stone at Itzal’s back to cut off her line of retreat and began encircling her from both sides.

Itzal continued gathering her MP and held her ground while throwing bone javelins at Faine.

Dodging and knocking aside the javelins with his spear, Faine slowed his advance but didn’t stop. Eyes glowing under the effects of the Enhanced Senses Spell, he showed no signs of struggling to predict where the javelins would land and ignored several that otherwise overshot or came up short of his advancing position.

All the while, Itzal continued expending her dwindling store of javelins, seemingly unperturbed by their lack of effect. Coiling her tail, she began slowly bobbing from side to side, anticipating Faine’s final approach.

With Itzal cornered, Randle began advancing to support his cousin more directly, gathering MP and making sure to keep his focus firmly fixed on Itzal.

Just as Faine was about to enter striking distance, Itzal suddenly sprang two dozen feet into the air, narrowly avoiding Randle’s prepared Fire Lance.

With a loud hiss, Itzal expelled a stream of pale shimmering amber liquid from her mouth. As a direct consequence of her flailing movements, the stream turned into a mist and quickly blanketed the surrounding area.

Randle fired several more Fire Lances in rapid succession. However, Itzal’s unpredictable flailing prevented all but one Fire Lance from accomplishing anything more than a glancing strike.

Following Itzal’s movements, Faine began stalking toward her anticipated landing site, spear at the ready. Then, without warning, he stumbled and began to scream. Discarding his spear, Faine threw off his helmet.

The skin of his face was blistered and inflamed, his eyes raw and bloody.

I immediately dismissed Faine’s projection and a second later did the same for Randle. They had already lost. Allowing the battle to continue would only serve to generate additional suffering.

They were only Human, and without the right Synergies, they didn’t stand a chance against Itzal’s potent airborne venom.

She hadn’t used this tactic in the tournament, so I could only assume Itzal had kept it in reserve intending to use it as a trump card. That, or she had been afraid of being disqualified.

If the venomous mist had spread to the crowd, Itzal would have potentially faced serious consequences.

Using my authority, I dispersed the mist and returned Itzal’s projection to the group, sharing her Venom Resistance with Keith before he experienced similar symptoms.

Itzal slowly and somewhat stiffly slithered across the large swathe of dead grass. Despite her pain, she wore an unmistakably smug smile as she considered her handiwork. However, Itzal’s smile quickly disappeared as she fixed her veil back into place.

“That was very impressive, if somewhat unconventional,” I commented, appreciating the unexpected upset.

Itzal bowed her head respectfully. “Thank you, my Tyrant. I only ssought to prove my true worth.”

I nodded in approval and then Summoned several projections.

Faine stared grimly at Itzal for several moments before giving her a terse nod of approval.

Randle chuckled nervously and looked quite relieved, while Jayne, who had been absent until this point, appeared quite understandably confused.

“Trask, Brok and Itzal, you have proven your strength in combat, but now you must prove your strength of mind and character.” I motioned to the Ainsleys. “Each of you will apprentice under a champion so they can determine your worthiness to join their ranks. During this apprenticeship, you will have access to the same Spells and Class. However, if you fail to meet our expectations, they will be taken from you.” I paused and waved Faine forward. “You may choose first,” I commanded.

Faine bowed obediently and considered his options. “I will take Brok,” he decided after a short deliberation. He spared a moment to smile apologetically at Itzal, “There are no hard feelings between us, but I do not want others to think my final decision will be motivated by bias.”

“I undersstand,” Itzal replied calmly.

Jayne gave her cousin a questioning look but said nothing.

Positively brimming with pride, Brok joined Faine and they both stood off to the side.

I waved Randle forward.

Randle gave Itzal an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, but I think Trask is a better fit.” He gave Trask a welcoming nod and they both moved off to the side.

“I guess that just leaves the two of us,” Jayne declared, stepping forward of her own accord. “I am sure my cousins have simply failed to appreciate your talents.”

Randle snickered quietly before catching Faine’s eye and falling silent.

“I am grateful for your undersstanding,” Itzal replied appreciatively.

I reshuffled the aspirants into my personal Faction and promoted the Ainsleys to the Lord rank, allowing them to Summon the projections of the aspirants through the Summon Servant Spell. After giving them all a few minutes to make arrangements amongst themselves, I dismissed their projections and turned my undivided attention toward Keith.

Keith had remained silent throughout, despite his evident frustration.

I gave Keith an appraising look and waited until I was certain he was in control of himself. “I’m going to give you a chance, Keith.” I ignored the stunned look of surprise on his scarred face. “Your trial is going to be different to the others. Not just because you would fail otherwise, but because I think it will help you by gaining perspective.”

Keith frowned slightly but remained silent.

“I am going to make you Gric’s temporary assistant, and resident ambassador to the Cultivators.” I could tell by the obvious confusion in his eyes, that Keith had no idea who or what the Cultivators were, and knew I needed to explain things. “They are humans with a different kind of magic, from a completely different world.”

Keith scowled darkly but reined in his emotions with visible effort.

“Gric will check in on you from time to time and assess your progress. However, you will be free to terminate the test at any time,” I explained patiently, keenly aware that he would need time to think things over to appreciate the opportunity for what it was.

Sure enough, Keith remained silent for quite some time. “I’ll do it,” Keith agreed stiffly, fists firmly clenched at his sides and struggling to meet my gaze.

I nodded to express my approval and appreciation for his internal struggles. “Just the same as the others, you will be given the opportunity to familiarise yourself with the Spells and Class during your assessment. However-” I fixed Keith with an icy glare, “If you abuse these gifts, you will be punished. Am I clear?”

Ashen-faced, Keith stiffly nodded, “I understand...”

Attacking other citizens would cause the Oaths to exact a punishment automatically. However, these protections did not extend to others. If Gric required his assistance outside of my realm, I wanted Keith to know that he was not free to indulge in wanton sadism.

After Summoning Gric and explaining matters in more detail, I dismissed them both and set about fulfilling my end of things.

Two days passed in relative calm, requiring only minimal involvement on my end to assign newly Conquered territories to requested regions of the realm.

Almost exclusively nocturnal, the Deep Ogres from the Hurst Labyrinth were slow in establishing connections with the other residents of Sanctuary. However, they had found common ground, quite literally, with Lash’s people and seemed quite happy with their new lives.

The Deep Ogres’ weight and inability to swim made the swamp too dangerous for them to hunt for their food. However, the stone caverns beneath Sanctuary provided an ample hunting ground which they were uniquely equipped to exploit. Furthermore, being able to destroy the Stone Dolls with a casual backhand swipe awarded them the opportunity to trade iron ingots for other commodities.

The Ogres still within the Labyrinth were receiving training from my expeditionary forces. After proving they could be trusted, and receiving some discipline, they would be allowed to settle in my realm permanently. Somewhat curiously, more of the wild Ogres had independently approached the fortress and after being cowed into submission by the larger Ogres, they had sworn oaths of loyalty and obedience.

It was for this reason that I had decided to accept the Semenovians’ petition and would direct the Ogres their way once the Ogres earned their full rights of citizenship. I had concerns regarding what may amount to inbreeding in future generations due to the wild Ogres' complete absence of genetic diversity. However, I ultimately decided that it would be the Semenovians' problem to sort out.

While they were less technologically developed than the people of Earth, the natives were not complete idiots. Even the primitive peoples of Earth had recognised the dangers of inbreeding and taken steps to mitigate them. At least, whenever they weren’t deliberately encouraging it.

Voicing my concerns to Sebet, I was only mildly surprised by the fact that she already had a potential solution to the problem.

The Shape Flesh Spell.

With Gric’s assistance, Sebet was confident that she could not only change a wild Ogre’s appearance but introduce genetic diversity that was otherwise lacking. Provided the procedure worked as intended, there would be no difference between the altered Ogre and a variant besides a limited Evolutionary potential.

With the understanding that it could be extended to wild monsters of all Species, I decided to give the matter a great deal of thought before coming to a decision.

As great as the opportunity may be for the wild monsters already under my protection, the procedure would introduce a host of ethical ramifications when dealing with wild monsters in the future. Just by existing as a hypothetical, it now meant that I had to consider every sapient monster the same as I would a human being.

The razor-thin line that had divided them was gone, and I wasn't sure I could handle the moral implications of what that entailed.

With hundreds of wild Orcs, Goblins and Gnolls already settled within my realm, there was no shortage of volunteers for Sebet’s experimental operation. However, Gric had insisted Wraithe take his place, arguing that she was more suited to medical matters.

Despite the obvious move to distance himself from Sebet, Gric did have a point. As a Daemon, Wraithe was just as capable of intuitively decoding genetic structures, and her medical knowledge provided an insight Gric would otherwise lack. Furthermore, the Shape Flesh Spell could easily be imprinted into an object for her use, only requiring Sebet’s input to determine aesthetic variation.

Aesthetics were not a consideration for most Daemons. In fact, Gric was the only one who appeared to have made an effort to ‘fit in’ by mimicking the general appearance of the Elves. Every other Daemon seemed perfectly content with their utterly chimaeric appearance.

The first subject to volunteer for the procedure was a Gnoll that had been liberated during the great Asrusian withdrawal.

Truth be told, beyond the colouration in his fur, I had great difficulty in identifying how much of a difference the procedure had made. However, the Gnoll himself seemed quite shocked when presented with his reflection in a mirror.

I had a much easier time noticing the changes in the Orcs and Goblins.

As word spread, a line began to form outside of the hospital. When I came back in the evening, the line had extended around the side of the hospital and wrapped around several of the towering trees that served as residential apartments.

Just as I was headed back to The Grove, I sensed Yi Gim’s token attempt to establish a connection.

I accepted the connection and waited to see what Yi Gim wanted.

<Greetings!> Yi Gim announced cheerily. <I have fortuitous news regarding your request!>

<Oh? I thought you would need more time.> I admitted.

<As did I.> Yi Gim agreed in good humour. <In truth, I had no luck in recruiting an instructor from within my realm. However, an incident within the realm of a close ally has provided an opportunity.>

<I’m listening.> I pressed, trying not to sound too eager.

<The Oba clan, five hundred and seventy-two souls, including its faithful servants and retainers, has been displaced in the wake of a confrontation with another clan.> Yi Gim explained in the same tone someone else might discuss the weather. Albeit with an undercurrent of anticipation. <Assuming you still intend to offer land for resettlement, the clan, in its entirety, is willing to swear the Oaths you require!>

<Five hundred and seventy-two people?> It took me a few moments to adjust my expectations to fit the new scale of the arrangement. <How many are capable of serving as instructors?>

Yi Gim remained silent for a few moments and I could sense that his attention was elsewhere. <According to the interviews conducted by my servants, the clan has fifty-three qualified and experienced instructors. However, the clan leader and elders have made it known that they are also willing to serve as instructors for students seeking advanced guidance. Which would bring the total number of instructors to sixty-four...>

<That is sixty-three more instructors than I expected.> I admitted with wry amusement. <But you are right, this is a great opportunity. I will take the whole clan.>

<Excellent!> Yi Gim replied excitedly. <How do you wish to proceed?>

<I will provide another magic item to facilitate the transfer.> I replied after giving the matter some thought. While I didn’t want to disparage my ally, committing to a Challenge on such a scale was a risk I was not willing to take.

<You possess the means to cross realms?...> Yi Gim asked hesitantly, sounding more than a little troubled.

Aware that Yi Gim had the same access to impressions through the link as myself, I knew that lying would probably make things worse. <Under certain conditions, yes.>

Yi Gim remained silent for quite some time. <Would this treasure allow travel to other realms?> There was a hidden intensity to his question, but I felt no ill will directed towards me.

<No, it wouldn’t. But I might be able to arrange one that could...> I hedged, curious to learn what Yi Gim wanted the capability for.

<Would you be willing to sell such a treasure to me?> Yi Gim asked bluntly. <I can offer more territories in exchange.>

My hairless brow rose in surprise despite myself. A Summoning Spell would require minimal effort on my part, and the costs would be practically nothing. The only true risks lay in exposing Gric to potential harm through projections.

Provided Gric was Summoned to Yi Gim’s realm, and then Summoned to the realm in question, he would be able to open a Spatial Breach. Although that was assuming such Spells weren’t blocked by the authority of other Monarchs.

I had assumed that Yi Gim would allow a Breach to migrate the clan of Cultivators. But there was something in his tone, a sense of alarm, that made me wonder whether other Monarchs were capable of barring entry to their realms via teleportation magic.

<That depends.> I replied warily. <What do you intend to use it for?>

<Vengeance...> Yi Gim replied bluntly, hiding nothing. <I would enter the realm of my enemy and take her head.>

<Your enemy would let you enter their realm?> I asked, surprised that Yi Gim would provide an answer to my question without needing me to broach the subject without justifiable cause. <Wouldn’t she simply deny your entry?>

<The Demon has no such treasures that I know of.> Yi Gim replied flatly.

<And you’re confident she will fight you, and not just flee to a far corner of her realm? Or banish you into a prison?> I pressed, struggling not to sound over-eager.

<I do not intend to announce my intentions.> Yi Gim replied darkly. <When I strike, it shall be without warning. The Demon of the Fog will only learn of my presence when my sword pierces her vile heart!...>

It wasn’t the cut-and-dry answer I had wanted, but it was definitely worth investigating further.

<How do the merchants cross realms?> I asked, changing the subject slightly. <Why not use the same method?>

<Teleportation Arrays and Formations are heavily regulated and well-guarded.> Yi Gim stated matter of factly. <And gaining access to the Demon’s realm in such a manner would require passing through the realms of several other Monarchs, including those of her allies...>

It made sense that Yi Gim wouldn’t consider that an option.

<Assuming I am willing...> I hedged somewhat hesitantly. <The magic item will still need to pass through those realms...>

<I can make arrangements.> Yi Gim replied flatly, refusing to elaborate.

<Half.> I replied in kind.

<Half?> Yi Gim asked uncertainly.

<When you kill your enemy, I want half the library and anything else you manage to lay hands on before leaving.> I elaborated.

<I agree to these terms!> Yi Gim agreed. <When do you wish to make the trade?>

I gave the matter some thought. <I will need at least an hour.> I hedged, allowing enough time to discuss the matter with Sebet.

I had initially intended to use Gric as the target for the Summons and opening a Breach to Yi Gim’s realm. However, Sebet would be much better suited for entering enemy territory.

<I will wait for your word then.> Yi Gim agreed and then terminated the connection.

Explaining things to Sebet took almost no time at all. She was already aware of Yi Gim’s situation and unsurprisingly, was fully on board with exploiting the situation for our advantage.

“With all due respect, Great One, this opportunity is just too good to pass up!” Sebet insisted excitedly. “Gaining access to an established teleportation network, as disjointed as it may be, would open up all manner of possibilities!”

“Are you referring to access through Yi Gim’s realm? Or the Demon’s?” I asked.

“Either? Both?” Sebet shrugged indifferently, “It doesn’t make much of a difference.”

“I suppose it doesn’t,” I agreed.

“Have you considered establishing a permanent connection?” Sebet asked, redirecting the flow of the conversation. “Allowing for more direct trade would make infiltrating other realms less obvious.”

“Assuming you could pass as a Cultivator, which I am fairly certain you can’t,” I replied somewhat offhandedly.

“Perhaps,” Sebet agreed and then shrugged, “Perhaps not. In either case, I do not doubt that other Monarchs would attempt sending their spies in turn. Spies that would be caught and could be ‘persuaded’ to serve your interests.”

“That...Is a good idea...” I agreed after giving it some thought. “Assuming Cultivators aren’t somehow immune to the effects of my authority.”

“Of course,” Sebet agreed emphatically. “The new migrants will serve as a perfect test.”

I grunted in agreement and then informed Yi Gim that I was ready.

Accepting the Challenge that came a few moments later, I found myself standing on a familiar sandy island.

Bathed in the moonlight, the sand shone like pale silver.

Limited to two subordinates, Yi Gim approached with his grand-niece at his side and a portly balding man in expensive robes trailing a short distance behind.

<I will handle the trade negotiations.> Sebet volunteered with a predatory smile as she sized up the merchant.

Trusting in her ability to secure a good price, gave her a small nod of approval.

Accepting the large jade crate from Gric, Sebet moved a discreet distance away and waited.

With a small dismissive wave of his hand, Yi Gim sent the merchant scurrying after her.

“It is good to see you again,” Yi Gim tilted his head slightly in greeting and his grand-niece bowed respectfully.

“I’m glad to see you are both doing well,” I replied, lowering my head slightly in return before offering Yi Gim a large jade pot. “A bonus as compensation for your efforts,” I explained in answer to his obvious surprise.

Accepting the pot, Yi Gim bowed his head in thanks. Withdrawing a large table from his Storage Ring, he set the pot down on the table and withdrew the lid. Eyes wide, he staggered backward a step before catching himself. “Your gift...It is much appreciated!”

The pot contained several of Hana’s more potent hybrids with the Water Affinity. Not the most successful specimens of her experiments, but more than enough to serve as a gift to express my gratitude.

I removed the long steel pole from my belt and set it against the table. “This is the ‘other item’ we discussed earlier,” I explained while keeping a careful eye on the merchant, unsure of who Yi Gim had trusted with the knowledge of our earlier conversation.

Glancing sidelong at the merchant, Yi Gim nodded in understanding and took the staff into his Storage Ring.

“It works the same,” I added, trusting in Yi Gim’s common sense to discern the rest.

“I am incredibly grateful for your generosity and understanding,” Yi Gim bowed in appreciation, his voice heavy with genuine sincerity. “If there is anything I can do to repay this kindness, you need but ask.”

“If you are sure?” I feigned indecisively.

“What is it?” Yi Gim asked attentively.

“I have been approached with a request to establish a more permanent trading arrangement,” I explained and motioned toward Sebet and the merchant. “Would you be open to establishing a formal trade alliance facilitated by Teleportation Formation?”

Whatever Yi Gim had expected, it quickly became obvious that hadn’t been it. “Of course!” He agreed excitedly. “I will have preparations made immediately!”

“One moment,” I raised my hands and motioned for him to wait. “I had not expected an answer so soon,” I lied. “I have other subjects who must have their concerns addressed first, lest I show undue favour.”

“Ah, I understand,” Yi Gim nodded in understanding, concealing the lion’s share of his disappointment.

“When I am ready, and assuming there are no further complications, I will be sure to let you know,” I promised. “At such a time, I would insist that only those you trust be allowed the use of the Formation.” It was a largely unnecessary requirement, given Yi Gim was incredibly unlikely to share such an opportunity with his rivals or those out of favour. However, it did encourage the idea that I was not in full support of the trading through the Formations.

“Of course,” Yi Gim agreed solemnly, “I would not dream of allowing malcontents to sully the honour of my family and Realm.”

But you would traffic an item of dubious purpose through an ally's realm to fulfil your revenge.

Keeping my thoughts to myself I smiled and nodded in appreciation for his understanding. “Has your grand-niece made any progress in acquiring the Water Affinity?” I asked, curious that I could barely sense the faintest trace of the Affinity within her.

“Unfortunately, no,” Yi Gim replied soberly and gently patted his grand-niece’s shoulder. “Hae’er was unlucky and the last pill failed to imprint the Affinity on her Dantian.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, more confused than I had been before. I could definitely sense something.

Yi Gim stared at his grand-niece for a few moments and then nodded. Although now he seemed less certain. “Might I ask why you believe otherwise?” He asked politely.

“I am not sure,” I admitted and extended my senses outward with fewer reservations. “She has no Inheritance?” I asked somewhat distractedly, having located the traces of Affinity I had sensed earlier and now in the process of attempting to identify it.

“None that we know of,” Yi Gim looked to his grand-niece for confirmation and she stiffly nodded her head in agreement.

Hu Hae had grown tense under my scrutiny and her nervousness was impairing my ability to observe the traces of Affinity.

I looked at Gric and nodded toward the young woman, “Do you sense it too?”

Gric frowned slightly and stared at her for several moments before slowly nodding his head. “There is a parasite lodged within her abdomen,” he explained with all the passion of a dead fish.

“Parasite?!” Yi Gim stared at his Grand-niece in alarm.

Hu Hae’s face grew ashen and she looked like she was going to be sick.

“It does not appear to be attached or otherwise anchored to her flesh or internal organs. I could remove it,” Gric continued before shrugging indifferently. “Although, perhaps someone else would prove better suited?”

Hu Hae clutched at her stomach and looked at Yi Gim with pleading eyes. “I want it out!” She whispered hoarsely, “I’ll cut it out if I have to!...”

Yi Gim held her shoulders and remained silent as he scanned her abdomen. “It is true...There is something there...However, its true presence evades me...” Still holding Hu Hae’s shoulders, Yi Gim turned to face Gric. “You are certain you can remove it without hurting her?”

Gric tilted his head slightly to one side, like a curious bird. “There will be no lasting physical impairment,” he replied with what they no doubt assumed had to be deliberately evasive specificity. However, I knew Gric well enough to understand that he was just accounting for the effects of the Shape Flesh Spell.

Not that Yi Gim or his grand-niece were to know that.

“It is just his way,” I explained, avoiding referring to Gric by name. I was uncertain whether the effect that obscured his true name would work with Cultivators and had not had the mind to test it at an earlier opportunity.

I really should have considered the matter before volunteering Wraithe’s services. But what was done was done.

“You vouch for his skill?” Yi Gim pressed.

“I do,” I replied with absolute confidence. “He would not claim to be capable of something outside of his abilities.”

“I want it out!...” Hu Hae hissed through clenched teeth.

“Very well...” Yi Gim agreed and stepped aside.

Gric looked to me for permission.

I waved him forward.

Removing his right gauntlet, Gric stepped forward and then knelt on one knee so he was closest to eye level with her abdomen. “This will feel...unpleasant...” He announced to no one in particular and then pressed his bare palm against Hu Hae’s stomach.

There was a slight delay and then Hu Hae retched, spitting up a mouthful of bile that narrowly missed striking Gric’s arm. Seemingly unable to pull away from Gric’s hand, she retched four more times before Gric released her.

Plucking at one of the pools of bile, Gric rose to his feet and held up a dark grey mass the size of a small grape. “The parasite,” Gric declared dispassionately.

The grey mass writhed in Gric’s grasp, but proved no more able to escape than Hu Hae.

“Are you familiar with this?” I asked, looking to Yi Gim for answers.

Yi Gim slowly shook his head and looked deeply concerned.

No longer able to camouflage itself within Hu Hae’s insides, the Affinity within it had become more readily recognisable.

“The parasite has a Water Affinity,” I observed aloud, mostly for Gric’s benefit. “Is it possible that the parasite somehow diverted the effects of the pill?”

Yi Gim froze for a few moments and then scowled. “It is not impossible,” he replied quietly. “However, I am far more concerned with learning how my niece was exposed to the parasite.”

“It is less than five days old,” Gric interjected calmly, holding the parasite less than an inch in front of his face so he could study it more closely. <Wraithe has spoken of this female before, and she would not have missed a parasite of this size.>

“The healer would have noticed it,” I explained for Yi Gim’s benefit.

“That narrows things down quite considerably considerably. Thank you,” Yi Gim bowed his head respectfully and then returned his attention to his grand-niece.

<I might be able to narrow the list of potential suspects.> Gric offered helpfully. <I detected recent scarring in the female’s digestive tract. It is most likely that the formant parasite was hidden within her food. However, there is a slim possibility that the parasite was ingested through alternative means.>

Not quite certain what Gric was talking about, I noticed that he was no longer staring at the parasite, but at Hu Hae and Yi Gim. Specifically, the small porcelain jar and grape-sized pill in Yi Gim’s hands.

“The pills.” I was momentarily taken aback after realising I had spoken aloud and gained Yi Gim’s undivided attention.

Initially confused, Yi Gim’s expression hardened and his eyes took on a murderous intensity. “The pills...” He echoed quietly, trembling with anger as he withdrew a token from his Spatial Ring and clutched it tightly in his fist.

Several minutes passed in near-complete silence.

“That ungrateful swine!” Yi Gim cursed viciously. “He dared to betray me?! After all, I have done for his family?!”

“You have found the culprit,” I guessed.

Yi Gim nodded grimly in affirmation. “Chief Alchemist Yeo Moon. The filthy traitor confessed to everything...” He took a deep breath and calmed down somewhat, “My niece was not his intended target...”

<The assassin surrendered himself too easily.> Gric grumbled suspiciously, glancing at Sebet from the corner of his eye while working his jaw in aggravation.

“This man worked alone?” I asked, willing to serve as a proxy to indulge Gric’s suspicions.

“He claimed as much...” Yi Gim answered, his scowl deepening as nodded in understanding. “This is all too...convenient...” With visible effort, Yi Gim returned to a state of calm and control. “I am sorry, but I must attend to this matter in person.”

With that, we cut our meeting short.

Sebet and the merchant had been forced to settle up sooner than she would have preferred, but it didn’t stop Sebet from proudly presenting her earnings afterwards.

“I would have pressed harder,” Sebet crowed triumphantly, passing over a newly acquired Storage Ring. “But I didn’t want to sour future negotiations. The Cultivation resources should serve as excellent reference and training materials for our resident Alchemist. I made sure to secure several of every pill available, just to be safe.”

“That’s good,” I nodded approvingly.

Once Jin had the skill and confidence to begin producing Alchemy products of his own, he could train others. With enough Alchemists, reliance on outside trade would decrease radically, and with recent events occupying the forefront of my mind, securing the services of trustworthy Alchemists had to become a high priority.

The Cultivators were already at risk for psychological instability. The last thing I needed was outside interference exacerbating matters further.

With Gric’s assistance, I turned my attention to preparing the displaced Cultivator city for the imminent arrival of the displaced clan. It was intended to serve as a temporary holding area while Oaths were secured from the new arrivals and a more permanent settlement location was found. However, if the new arrivals decided they wanted to keep the city, they would be welcome to it.

So far as I was concerned, the Cultivator cities held little difference from one another beyond minor elements of architectural preferences. The new arrivals would be free to reshape the city to their needs anyway, so it made no real difference.

I felt the token at my waist attempt to form a connection and after taking a few moments to settle my thoughts I allowed it to do so.

<Please forgive me for forgoing formalities.> Yi Gim apologised anxiously. <And I am aware this goes beyond the intended scope of our alliance...> He established wearily and I could feel the apprehension building in his words. <However, I must ask for your assistance in this matter...”

“Your traitor, the Alchemist, he has sworn an Oath that is protecting the other parties involved?> I guessed, confident that Yi Gim would have little problem extracting an answer otherwise.

There was a common misconception about torture, predominantly held by those who had never experienced true hardship or pain. That somehow, will and bravado alone would be enough to resist the efforts of someone willing to take your body apart piece by piece to get the outcome they wanted. Hundreds of cultures throughout history have given rise to experts in the field, and their success rate speaks for itself. Given enough time, and the skills of a motivated expert, nobody could resist torture for long.

They would either agree to do anything to end the pain or die from the accumulated trauma.

***** Oba Shoji ~ Tim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ City of the Phoenix *****

Leading his clan through the empty streets of the city, Oba Shoji forced down his feelings of unease and put on a brave face to better inspire his juniors. However, no matter where he chose to look, he couldn’t help but find signs of previous occupation.

Sweeping his senses through the city, Oba Shoji was momentarily taken aback upon discovering a lone individual located deeper in the city. Only a first-rank cultivator, the stranger was most likely a servant or some other representative of the clan’s new Monarch.

Eager to make a good impression, even if the representative was just a servant, Oba Shoji left the elders to keep watch over the clan while he moved ahead on his own.

With his injuries healed thanks to medicines provided by the servants of the Azure Shark Monarch, it took Oba Shoji only a handful of seconds to traverse the city and arrive at the city centre. However, he was somewhat surprised to find that the man he believed to be the Monarch’s servant was not alone.

Two tall figures, a man and a woman, armoured in crimson stone armour flanked a heavy-set and dark-skinned man sitting on a bench beside an ornate fountain.

Although he could not see their eyes and could sense no traces of Chi or internal energy within them, Oba Shoji’s instincts warned him not to provoke them. Whoever they were, Cultivators or not, they were incredibly dangerous and he had their undivided attention.

“You must be Oba Shoji, the leader of the Oba clan,” the dark-skinned man commented, rising from the bench and staring back at him with an intense piercing gaze. Despite being barefoot and clothed only in a white skirt fixed to his waist by ornate jewellery, the man gave off an all too familiar aura.

Oba Shoji fell to his knees and pressed his head against the ground as fast as he could manage. “The Oba clan pays homage to the Monarch!” Oba Shoji cried with earnest sincerity, hoping the Monarch before him would overlook his rudeness.

“Figures...” The Monarch muttered under his breath. “No point staying like this then...”

There was a sickly series of wet cracking and crunching sounds, and the Monarch’s shadow was engulfed by something considerably larger.

“Rise,” a deep booming voice commanded.

Eyes fixed determinedly on the ground, Oba Shoji obeyed.

“You were not to know,” the voice growled with unmistakable irritation. “But I will make it known to you now. I find the spectacle of my subjects debasing themselves to be extremely distasteful. If you wish to show respect, you will look me in the eyes when we speak with one another and will bow no further than thirty degrees at the waist. Am I understood?”

“Ye-es M-Monarch...” The breath caught in Oba Shoji’s throat as he raised his head and laid eyes on the monster that had taken the place of the dark-skinned man.

Taller than many of the surrounding buildings, Oba Shoji had to crane his neck upward to look the monster in the eyes. The monster’s pale blue-green skin was drawn tight over large hardened muscles and bore scrawling tattoos of unknown origin and purpose.

“Good...This is better,” the monster, Oba Shoji’s new Monarch, rumbled in approval. “I need you to understand something,” the Monarch insisted gravely. “I am a man of my word, and I keep my promises.” He waved a table-sized hand expansively at the surrounding city streets and buildings. “This is just intended as temporary accommodation. I promised that your people would be allowed to choose a suitable location for their resettlement. If you wish to keep the city, that can be arranged.”

“Keep the city?...” Oba Shoji glanced at the buildings around them uncertainly.

The monarch shrugged indifferently, “There are several others, and they hold no value to me. Better they see use than to slowly collapse into disrepair.” He looked pointedly at the large man on his right and then pointed to an open section of the street.

The large man in stone armour bowed his head briefly and then knelt on one knee while resting his right hand on the floor.

The stone surrounding his hand began to flow like water and within less than a minute had taken on a disturbingly realistic three-dimensional representation of a small continent. Small cities and towns dotted the landscape amidst rolling plains and dense forests.

“These territories are unoccupied, so you are free to choose the place you believe is best suited to your people’s needs,” the Monarch rumbled, impressing upon Oba Shoji that making a decision sooner rather than later, would be in his best interests.

“A defensible location, far from the stronger beasts would be best...” Oba Shoji suggested nervously. Only now realising that the underlying motivation for recruiting his clan was almost certainly because the previous inhabitants of the continent had been overrun and consumed by a beast tide.

“The beasts will not be a problem,” the Monarch replied dismissively. “I can guarantee they will not pass beyond the boundaries of any location you choose for your people.” The absolute certainty in his voice gave Oba Shoji pause.

Did the Monarch intend to post protectors to ensure their safety?

“If the beasts are not a concern...” Oba Shoji gathered what remained of his flagging nerve and against his better judgement, decided to take an objectively ill-advisable risk for the sake of his grandson’s future. “A location rich in Wood-aligned Affinity would be best...” Oba Shoji volunteered nervously. “It would let us grow Alchemical ingredients and pay a greater annual tithe!” He added hurriedly, attempting to justify his otherwise indefensible greed and overreach.

“I don’t take tithes, bribes, or taxes,” the Monarch growled disapprovingly. “I have no need for them,” his tone softened and he pointed to a forest at the base of one of the smaller mountains. “That forest should meet your needs.” He stared at Oba Shoji for several long moments, his eyes boring into Shoji’s very soul and his spiritual sense sweeping through Shoji’s body like an unstoppable tide. “Do members of your clan possess the Wood Affinity?” The Monarch asked, all intensity abandoned as quickly as it had arisen.

Oba Shoji felt a sudden surge of fear. He had overreached and now he would pay the price. “No, Monarch...I offer my sincerest-”

The Monarch waved his hand dismissively, pressuring Shoji into silence. “You are not in trouble,” he chuckled darkly, “What I wanted to ask you, is whether you would want them to?”

Stunned beyond words, Oba Shoji could only stare in awe as a wooden bench behind the Monarch sprouted roots and slowly transformed into a tree before his very eyes.

For a Monarch to even consider fostering an Affinity outside of their bloodline was utterly unheard of. It was unprecedented. Unthinkable. However, if the offer was indeed genuine, Oba Shoji couldn’t ignore the fact that instead of being recorded as the clan leader who almost presided over the destruction of the clan, he would instead oversee the greatest expansion in strength the clan had ever known.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 74 - Power and privilege - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 74 - Power and privilege - Part One

Just as Hana had predicted, most of the plants were too weak or were just outright unfortunate and failed to survive the Tribulation. Turned to ash and swept away by the wind despite the presence of the lightning rods. However, those that remained carried varying levels of Thunder-aligned energy.

While Zhu Min sought privacy to change her blackened and singed clothing behind a boulder, I took the opportunity to inspect the surviving plants more closely.

Compared to the hybrid plants grown within The Grove, these plants seemed to contain between five to ten times their counterparts' energy. Although it was somewhat difficult to calculate due to the surrounding stone radiating the same energy.

Intended as a general experiment, I located a portion of surviving moss and used the Plant Growth Spell to trigger new growth and spread the moss over the recently abandoned rocks nearby.

More or less as I had expected, the Thunder-aligned energy within had been diluted as it spread throughout the newly increased mass of the plant.

I decided to perform the same experiment with the peach tree Hana had planted in the centre of the Arrays.

Lacking Hana and the Daemons’ natural ability to ‘see’ the flows of mana and other energies, I simply allowed the tree to grow wild.

Minute by minute, the sapling grew into a young tree, forking a large branch toward each of the massive jade pillars that formed the anchor for the Arrays.

When my MP began running low, I decided to experiment with feeding Chi into the tree instead. Contrary to my experience with Lurr, the tree drew in Chi like a sponge. Furthermore, it continued to grow at a rate roughly half as fast as it had when targeted by the Plant Growth Spell.

Carried away contributing to the explosive growth of the tree, I came within a few breaths of depleting my available Chi before cancelling the transfer.

Against my expectations, I felt a vague sense of disappointment, longing and regret emanate from the tree. This strongly suggests that the tree had some form of sentence that was otherwise absent in the plant life outside of the Arrays.

I was drawn away from my thoughts upon noticing I had kept Zhu Min waiting. She had made no attempts at actively seeking my attention, but the intense eagerness in her tense frame made it abundantly clear that it had taken a considerable degree of effort.

“You have decided on your reward?” I guessed, smiling slightly in amusement despite myself.

“Yes, Patriarch!” Zhu Min nodded emphatically while bowing slightly at the waist.

I motioned for her to continue.

“If the Patriarch will allow it...” Zhu Min momentarily lost her nerve but pushed through with grim determination. As if she was facing down a powerful foe on the battlefield. “I would humbly ask for the guidance of a martial arts master!” Zhu Min bowed stiffly to the exact degree bordering on what I had forbidden, pressing her fists together so tightly that the cartilage in her joints popped like cracking bones.

Reflecting upon my established expectations, I realised that I had made a fundamental miscalculation in assuming a Cultivator’s requests would fall in line with a regular person’s.

Regardless, I had made a promise and intended to keep it.

“It may take some time,” I cautioned, tempering her expectations. “However, I will keep to my word and find you a suitable teacher.”

Zhu Min raised her head slightly and I could see she was positively beaming with gratitude.

“Thank you, Patriarch!” Zhu Min exclaimed fervently.

Studying Zhu Min’s face, the absence of anger and doubt in her response was rather confusing. After reflecting on my own behaviour leading up to my Tribulation, I had thought I had gained some insight into identifying signs of Heart Demons. Yet, I couldn’t see or sense any signs of their presence within Zhu Min.

Exercising my authority, I relocated us both to the otherwise isolated shrine.

“Zhu Min, are you familiar with the Ritual method of removing Heart Demons?” I asked while directing her attention toward the entrance of the shrine.

Zhu Min nodded somewhat uncertainly.

“As a precaution, I would like you to perform the Ritual before returning to your grandfather,” I explained bluntly. “I have witnessed your control over the Gluttonous Soul and am impressed by your measure of mastery. However, pushing your Cultivation to the point of generating a Tribulation may have subtly altered your emotional receptivity, and by extension, your control. So please, allow me this indulgence.” I motioned to the Shrine again, this time more insistently.

Zhu Min nervously bowed her head, “I will do as you ask, Patriarch.”

Entering the shrine, I was pleased to find that Gric or Sebet had made another incense delivery during my absence.

Theoretically, Zhu Min would only require a handful of sticks at most, but having more on hand was reassuring.

After referencing the manual for instructions, Zhu Min set about placing the incense bowls round about herself with meticulous care. After fussing for fifteen minutes, she carefully lit the incense sticks and settled into a meditative pose on the floor.

Standing outside of the shrine, the extreme contrast in the lighting made it difficult to see what was happening within. Or rather, it did, until I cast the Keen Senses Spell on myself.

With my sight magically augmented, the sunlight was reduced considerably, allowing me to see the inside of the shrine in great detail. However, it took several moments for me to properly understand what I was looking at.

Zhu Min appeared to be sweating a dark ink-like liquid which stained her clothes before slowly pooling on the floor.

Without warning, Zhu Min leaned forward and violently expelled a torrent of black liquid across the floor.

Unlike the comparatively thin substance shed from her skin, the black vomit had a thick tar-like consistency. Furthermore, it appeared to be moving of its own accord.

Little by little, the tar drew itself together and began taking on a vaguely humanoid form. After completing its transformation, it bore a rough resemblance to Zhu Min herself. Albeit, naked and bearing fangs, claws and a thin whip-like tail.

As if sensing my presence, the creature spun about and charged toward the entrance of the shrine.

The instant it crossed the threshold, its body collapsed into inert material and began rapidly disintegrating.

The creature, as short-lived as it had proven to be, reminded me of the dark reflection I had faced when performing the Ritual. Except the battle that had followed had taken place entirely within my mind. Furthermore, if a creature had appeared in the shrine, Gric would have told me.

Knowing full well I was jumping to conclusions, I suspected the creature was probably created due to Zhu Min being a Daemonic Cultivator. Besides the shared naming scheme with Heart Demons, there had been a decidedly demonic appearance to the creature.

In the handful of minutes I spent thinking about the problem, the thinner ink-like substance had evaporated and Zhu Min had begun to stir.

Opening her eyes, Zhu Min smiled happily and appeared pleasantly surprised and refreshed. Rising to her feet and smiling all the while, she spent a few minutes stretching her arms and legs. Throwing an experimental punch, Zhu Min quickly followed it up with a rising kick, upsetting one of the incense bowls in the process.

Squeaking in alarm and surprise, Zhu Min leapt after the bowl, diving and intercepting it before it could crash into the wall. Incidentally, she covered herself in the disturbed ash and sand in the process.

Objectively, I could understand her cause for alarm. While the bowls were entirely replaceable, they were made from high-purity jade. Which made them incredibly valuable. The fact that Gric, or Ochram could effortlessly repair or outright reform the bowl was largely beside the point. Especially since Zhu Min was not privy to those particular facts.

Zhu Min Seemed determined to ignore my presence until all five bowls were returned to the storage alcove and the floor was meticulously swept clean.

“I am sorry for my clumsiness, Patriarch...” Zhu Min apologised, blushing intensely with embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” I reassured her. “When you return to your grandfather, inform him that I require a dedicated staff to maintain the shrine and ensure the Ritual is conducted correctly.”

“Of course! Patriarch!” Zhu Min agreed hurriedly, only too eager to obey.

“Thank you, Zhu Min. I will send for you when I have found a suitable instructor,” I promised and then used my authority to send her home.

Returning to the mountaintop, I used my authority to transport Lurr from the hospital and then laid him down beneath the peach tree at the centre of the Arrays.

Drawing on the ambient Thunder-aligned energy, I took Lurr’s hand and began the gruelling cycle of injecting Chi into his body.

After an hour of cycling, Lurr began to stir and I felt a great weight lift off of my shoulders. Even if he required my direct intervention, Lurr would live.

Sometime later, Lurr opened his eyes and stiffly rose off of the ground. “Where?” His one remaining eye darted inquisitively over our surroundings.

“We are within my realm,” I replied, regretting the unintentional vagueness almost immediately. “A large tract of territories currently held separate from Sanctuary,” I added for necessary context.

Lurr slowly nodded in understanding, accepting the situation at face value.

“You don’t have any other questions?” I asked, somewhat perturbed by how readily Lurr’s curiosity had been quenched.

Lurr shook his head.

“How do you feel?” I pressed, shifting the subject to what I hoped would prove to be more fertile ground.

Lurr frowned and grew contemplative. Without warning, electricity arced over his hands and forearms. “This is?...” He looked up at me in what I could best interpret as a ‘mild sense of alarm’.

“Electricity...but that’s not what you wanted to know...” I sat myself down next to him and willed the same electrical discharge to play over my hands as well. “The new energy inside of you, It’s like mana...Except it has ‘this’ connected to it.”

“Mana,” Lurr’s mild concern evaporated and was replaced with one of undeserved confidence.

I wasn’t sure how to break the news, so I decided to go with my tried and true method of just blundering straight through it. “Your old mana is gone, replaced by, this-” I wiggled my fingers for emphasis, causing the electricity to crackle ominously.  “-and unfortunately, this mana isn’t regenerating on its own...”

Lurr nodded sombrely, showing he had followed everything thus far and appreciated the danger he was in.

“I created this place to gather the special mana you need,” I motioned to the pillars and the peach tree. “You can probably feel it?” I asked optimistically.

Lurr nodded and glanced at the tree.

“That’s good,” I insisted, feeling a profound sense of relief. “We can work with that.”

“Can’t leave?” Lurr asked, catching me off guard.

“I...I don’t know yet,” I admitted honestly. “This is new ground, Lurr. Frankly, I’m surprised you're even alive...”

Lurr lowered his eyes and nodded. “Was dead...” He grunted quietly.

“You remember?” I asked, surprised at the implications.

Lurr shook his head, “No...Hear voices. Voices say, was dead...” He stared up at me with near fanatical devotion, “Say, Tyrant, bring back.”

“That's...Not entirely wrong...” I couldn’t deny my involvement but wasn’t comfortable with what Lurr was implying.

“This-” Lurr motioned to the surrounding area, “-good. Am alive. Different, not bad,” the wrinkles around his eyes gathered as his lips were drawn into a wide smile. “Am old, life changes,” he shrugged.

“You’re taking it all far better than I would have,” I commented with a deep sigh. “I’ll make arrangements so you can have visitors,” I promised. “Just, make sure not to touch anyone or immerse yourself in water just yet, alright?”

Lurr nodded obediently, “Will obey.”

Offering my forearm, I recruited Lurr for the second time. After conjuring some basic supplies, I left Lurr alone so he could acclimate to his new life.

Reviewing Lurr’s information while sitting at the bottom of the lake, I felt a rising sense of confidence that Lurr would be able to live a relatively normal life. That is, according to Orc standards.

So far as I could tell, Lurr’s stats and Species were the same as they had been before his untimely demise. He had lost his Class and Racial Abilities, but had taken on the Thunder Affinity and gained a handful of ranks in the Eternal Tao instead.

Lurr had also gained a Cultivation Inheritance. However, I strongly suspected that it was at least partially responsible for his underlying condition.

Storm Heart.

An Inheritance that would make him immensely powerful so long as he had Thunder-aligned Chi in the tank. However, he would need to chase the storms to stay alive. Or, have the storms brought to him. Just as I had feared, Lurr would die if he was deprived of Thunder-aligned energy. On the upside, he would be allowed to leave the mountain. Just not for long periods of time.

Of course, this meant that Lurr would need to learn a breathing Technique so he could accelerate his recovery. That, and extend the time he could spend away from the mountain before falling into a coma.

Of course, now that I had confirmed Lurr was under the banner of the Cultivation system, there was a possibility that Gric or Sebet could artificially apply a second Inheritance.

I didn’t have enough of a comparison to know if Daemonic Veins would be of any benefit. But it was worth looking into.

On that train of thought, I had a promise to keep and needed to contact Yi Gim.

As distasteful as it was, I needed to inquire about the going rate of buying a human being...

It came as little surprise that Yi Gim was far less squeamish than I was. While he was by no means particularly enthusiastic, he was open to discussion.

<I want training instructors.> I repeated, <Preferably individuals with an open mind and a willingness to teach novices.>

<And, who will agree to swear Oaths...> Yi Gim interjected, repeating the most demanding of my conditions. <Finding even a single individual that meets these specifications will be...difficult...> There was a lengthy pause. <However, as a gesture of our mutual goodwill, I will have my servants make enquiries.>

<Thank you, Yi Gim. I appreciate the gesture.> I replied sincerely while suppressing my hesitation. <Of course, depending on how many candidates you can provide, I can make more of the higher Water Affinity materials available as compensation.>

<That Will, of course, be much appreciated.> Yi Gim replied happily. <If you are willing, I could increase the potential number of candidates by advertising certain benefits offered by your patronage.> He suggested somewhat slyly. <Of course, as a precaution, we would not disclose your identity. Only the benefits your patronage would afford.>

<That seems agreeable.> I replied after considering the potential risks. <When can I expect an update on the progress of my request?> I took care not to make the question an outright demand. As allies, it would only serve to sour our relationship if one of us attempted to dominate the other. Inequalities in trade were one thing. The value being entirely subjective in nature. Outright treating the other as subordinate in what was intended as a partnership, was just asking for trouble and resentment.

<An initial round of inquiries will take at least a few days...> Yi Gim answered somewhat distractedly, no doubt relaying an estimate from one of his subordinates. <Assuming you are willing to accept a certain degree of risk, I could have recruiters extend the search to the realms of my other allies?>

I was confident that Gric and Sebet would be able to root out any spies. Especially if submitting themselves to an inspection was a requirement to accept the position. So I was reasonably confident that the risks would be minimal.

<Provided they accept my terms, I have no qualms with expanding the search.> I agreed.

<Very well. Until we speak again, farewell.” Yi Gim terminated the connection.

I remained at the bottom of the lake a while longer, taking the opportunity to restore the missing balance of my Chi and MP while monitoring my internal energy.

I hadn’t realised it in the moment, but my Wood-aligned Chi and energy had been just about tapped out. Reflecting upon its absence, I suspected that it was probably the cause of the peach tree’s unexpected growth spurt. The Wood Affinity’s description supported this assumption, but I hadn’t used it in that way before.

In hindsight, I should have realised the role it had played much sooner.

Unlike the Thunder Affinity, recovering the Wood Affinity-aligned Chi was far easier and faster due to Hana’s ever-expanding garden of hybrid plants. Even the regular plantlife generated small amounts, and with so many plants in the vicinity, the quantity provided a certain quality all its own.

Returning to the shore on my way home, I was momentarily taken aback after spotting Pete and Suzy skating across the surface of the lake. Chasing after the Lizardmen hatchlings in what I assumed was a modified version of tag, the twins engaged in dramatically different styles of skating.

While both seemed to be actively controlling the water through their Water Affinity, Pete’s movements were careful and methodical, like a figure skater. In stark contrast, Suzy’s movements were far more aggressive and improvised, reminding me of the few times I had watched ice hockey on television.

I was so engrossed in watching the twins that I didn’t notice Lash until the prow of her canoe narrowly passed by my right ear. She grinned at me unapologetically and began rowing after the twins in earnest, rapidly closing in on them. While her technique was rough, Lash more than made up for her lack of skill with raw enthusiasm and brute strength. Shearing through the water with a speed Olympic athletes would have killed for.

It took me several moments longer to notice Eg, our not quite yet, yet, in all but name, adopted daughter clinging tightly to Lash’s waist for dear life.

Taking Pete and Suzy’s lead, I decided to try and use my Chi to walk on water.

Several failed attempts later and still as buoyant as a boulder, I figured there had to be a fundamental aspect of the trick I still didn’t understand.

After another hour of trial and error, I identified the problem.

I was simply too heavy.

I could support part of the weight of one arm but had nowhere near enough Chi or perhaps Affinity, to support even a tenth of my entire body weight.

Rather than spending the remainder of the evening faffing about on my own, I joined Lash and played with Pete and Suzy instead.

Before putting the twins to bed, I made a point of letting them know how proud I was of their accomplishment. They had adapted to the alternate system far faster than I would have ever expected. It made finding a qualified and trustworthy instructor all the more pressing.

As talented as my children had proven themselves to be, I didn’t want them accidentally hurting themselves. Or god forbid, accidentally hurting someone else.

Eg and the other Ogre children could probably walk off most typical injuries. But the other variant children probably couldn’t. Especially the Humans and the imminent wave of hybrids. That was before gaining Chi and Affinities, which would only multiply the existing dangers in who knew how many possible ways.

It was taking a little getting used to with Eg sleeping in our bed.

Specifically, because she slept with both eyes open, and resting her head on Lash’s chest left her staring right at me.

As deeply unsettling as it was, I did my best to just ignore her and sleep.

That was when I learned Eg suffered from night terrors...

Watching Lash gently rock Eg back to sleep, I was forced to appreciate how easy Suzy and Pete had been as infants.

Just the thought of raising a regular human child in this world was enough to bring me to the precipice of having a panic attack.

With a handful of nonconsecutive hours of sleep under my belt, I made myself, the twins and Eg as presentable as possible and then took them to the Dwergi arena. Lash would join us later, but I wanted to give her another few hours of sleep.

As concerning as the reality made me, I had grown strangely acclimated to going without regular sleep. At least concerning not feeling tired.

With Eg shyly clinging to Pete, and Pete behaving himself, they made it that much easier to keep an eye on Suzy as she raced through the small marketplace of the arena.

To their credit, the merchants, stall vendors and other visitors took Suzy’s insatiable curiosity in stride. No doubt, a considerable element of their patience and understanding was the result of her status, and I had an obvious bias. However, I was convinced that a few of the Dwergi merchants were truly pleased by Suzy’s unfiltered stream of questions regarding their products.

Even if it was just an excuse to gush over the quality of their products concerning their competitors.

It probably didn’t hurt when I bought the children a small number of gifts from their stores either.

After touring the market, we were escorted by one of the Dwergi council members to a massive viewing box in the arena.

Huge amounts of food and drink were laid out on a table at the back of the viewing box and the kids wasted no time in casually grazing its contents while comparing their gifts.

While the children were otherwise occupied, several large stone thrones were created using magic and then padded with massive cushions.

“If there is any way we may be of service, please, do not hesitate to ask, my Tyrant!” Drislek, the Dwergi council member, insisted proudly. “Additional refreshments will be provided as needed.” He spared a wrinkled glance toward the children and smiled with a grandfatherly air before seeing himself out.

“Daddy!” Suzy crashed into my thigh with deliberate force and waved the whistling staff I had bought for her. True to its name, the air passing through the small holes at the end of the staff made a keening whistling sound according to how hard Suzy waved the staff about. “Listen! Hehe!”

“It makes a whistling noise, doesn’t it?” I asked, leaning down and raising her onto my shoulder.

“Mhm! Whistle!” Suzy waved the staff even harder, accidentally clipping my ear before changing pace.

I pursed my lips and whistled a short tune, nearly causing Suzy to topple off my shoulder in surprise.

“Daddy whistle?!” Suzy exclaimed in bewilderment, grabbing at my lips with her free hand and looking inside my mouth for the source of the whistle. Unable to find the invisible whistle, Suzy frowned and huffed indignantly. “Daddy trick!” She accused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

I pursed my lips and whistled again.

Suzy stared at my mouth in surprise.

A second whistle derailed Suzy’s investigation, drawing both of our collective attention toward Pete and Eg who were sitting on the floor by the table.

Eg shied back under the unexpected attention but was too late to conceal her musical talent.

“Eg whistle?” Suzy scratched at her scalp in confusion.

Eg released a short peep, drawing Pete’s attention as well.

“Show Suzy!” Suzy demanded, aggressively leaping off of my shoulder and toward Eg. However, I was able to snatch her out of the air before she could frighten Eg any further.

“Suzy, look at me,” I insisted firmly and pointed to my mouth. “Just copy me, okay?”

Suzy nodded emphatically.

I made a show of pursing my lips. “Just pinch your lips together like this, then blow with your breath,” I explained and then released a warbling whistle.

Suzy took a deep breath, pursed her lips, and then blew an incredibly wet raspberry directly into my face. Her face fell, “No whistle?”

“Try breathing more gently,” I suggested, taking a few slow breaths as an example.

Suzy nodded determinedly and proceeded to blow another raspberry in my face.

To be fair, I now realised that it may not have been entirely her fault. While Eg had tusks like the rest of us, hers were far smaller and were able to fit under her upper lip. Suzy’s tusks were much longer and she couldn't do that. Which made it difficult for her to form a seal on the sides of her mouth. Inevitably resulting in a great deal of spit flying into my face.

Pete made a short peep and immediately proved me wrong.

Lowering Suzy to the floor, I let her pester Pete for his secret.

Roughly half an hour, and three small-scale tantrums later, Suzy had gotten the hang of it and the trio were competing to see who could whistle the loudest.

It was only after Lash arrived another hour later, that I realised teaching Suzy to whistle may not have been the best idea when Lash was already somewhat on edge due to a lack of sleep.

Watching the semi-finals wasn’t particularly entertaining. Most matches were determined through gruelling attrition, drawn-out games of cat and mouse, or a handful of strikes made with objectively excessive force.

It didn’t help that only a single contestant capable of casting Spells had managed to qualify for the semi-finals.

Magic had a fantastical quality about it that spoiled more mundane combat’s potential entertainment value through direct comparison. There was no getting around that.

Keith had proven an exception.

Keith’s matches were incredibly short. Armed with a short sword and a fistful of small knives, he wasn’t interested in fighting fair or even showcasing his potential. The moment each match started, Keith went for an artery. Even going so far as to accept grievous wounds to trade for otherwise fatal ones against his opponents.

With Sebet’s Contracts providing insurance against death and otherwise permanent harm, Keith fought like an absolute psychopath.

The scarred elf had downed Orcs and Gnolls more than three times his size by matching their raw savagery and pitting incredible speed against brute strength. He avoided decapitation and dismemberment by inches so he could bleed his opponents out and secure victory.

Unfortunately for Keith, those aggressive and suicidal tactics didn’t work against Trask.

As tall as an Orc, twice as heavy and covered in thick hide and hard emerald scales, Trask was a living tank. One of the few Lizardmen that regularly left Sanctuary and hunted in my Labyrinth, Trask’s matches had been far more boring to watch. Armed only with a morningstar, he had defeated every one of his opponents with a single strike or forcing a forfeit by triggering special clauses in Sebet’s Contracts.

Lacking the raw Strength needed to pierce Trask’s armoured hide, Keith was slowly worn down and worked into a corner.

With all the patience of a cold-blooded predator, Trask didn’t rush his inevitable victory. He took no chances, guarding his eyes and keeping his mouth firmly shut to avoid exposing any weaknesses.

Cornered, all but disarmed and no doubt thoroughly exhausted, Keith didn’t give in. Even after Trask pulped Keith’s left arm with the head of his morningstar, Keith continued fighting.

With Keith as injured as he was, it didn’t take Trask much longer to deliver the final blow and secure the top-ranking position in the tournament.

As the host of the tournament, I allowed the Dwergi council to announce the rewards given to the top-ranking participants. The Quest had made the physical rewards available already, but I felt it would be more appropriate if the audience was given a reminder regarding what the participants had been fighting for.

I performed the promotions to Underlord in person.

As the undisputed victor of the tournament, Trask’s promotion earned the loudest applause. But the others were not forgotten.

In second place, and something of a dark horse, Keith received only slightly less applause.

If Gnar was upset about taking third place, he didn’t show it. Every matriarch of the Gnoll Faction, Rikit included, had witnessed his accomplishments and I wouldn’t be surprised if Gnar was Bonded before sunset. The tournament had literally demonstrated that Gnar was superior to just about every other male in his pack, and showed just how strong he truly was. There wouldn’t be many males that could compete against his credentials.

If Brok wasn’t already taken, he would probably be in a similar position to Gnar. Orcs did things differently, but ranking fourth overall, and first of your Species carried significant weight.

Itzal, the only female finalist and Spellcaster that had made it to the semi-finals, was positively beaming with pride, and I couldn’t fault her for it. As a Venomancer, she had been at an extreme disadvantage against opponents with high Toughness, and as a Naga, she lacked the mobility to outmanoeuvre melee-specialised opponents in such open terrain. Except for Keith, Itzal had been more than ten levels lower than the other finalists.

All things considered, she had done incredibly well for herself, and with her winnings, Itzal was sure to do even better in the days to come.

Of all the finalists, only Keith appeared to be upset with his placement. Despite being in a painfully similar boat to Itzal, and receiving slightly fewer rewards than Trask, Keith gave off an air that left the impression he had been somehow robbed of what he felt he deserved. However, for all of his anger, he didn’t lash out at the other finalists.

The more I watched him, the more certain I became that Keith was actually upset with himself. That he had somehow let someone down and blamed himself for it. For some unknown reason, he had NEEDED first place. And after doing everything in his power to achieve that goal, he had come up short.

Having made my public appearance, I withdrew to the private viewing box and returned with my family to The Grove. After seeing them settled, I relocated myself somewhere private so I could address the tournament winners without fear of being overheard.

One by one, I Summoned Trask, Keith, Gnar, Brok and Itzal. Opting for projections so their true selves could enjoy the limelight of their respective accomplishments.

Without being asked, Trask, Gnar, Brok and Itzal bowed their heads.

Keith just stared up at me in confusion. Making no attempts at hiding expectations that he, and most of the others, should not be here.

Then it clicked.

I understood why Keith was so upset at placing second in the tournament. Someone had leaked the true purpose of the tournament. What's more, they had made a mistake while doing so.

Initially, I had intended to take only one champion. I had just the one slot available from The Tyrant’s Fists Class Ability at the time. Things have changed since then. Most notably, the Ability had ranked up and doubled the total number of people I could nominate.

The tournament had always been intended to find worthy candidates, and what Keith had apparently not been told was that the selection criteria had never been restricted to who came first.

“Who told you?” I asked curiously, intent on getting straight to the meat of the matter.

“The Devil...” Keith muttered sourly. “Said you would make the winner your champion...” He looked pointedly at the other finalists and then back at me. “She lied, didn’t she?”

“She certainly didn’t tell the whole truth,” I agreed tersely, connecting another one of the dots. “Is this why you joined my expeditionary force?”

“I needed levels...” Keith replied shamelessly, “Couldn’t get them on my own...”

“You could have teamed up,” I countered dryly. “Even if you insisted on excluding the Humans, you would have no shortage of potential teammates.”

“Too slow...Even with the Contracts, they won’t take risks...” Keith sneered irritably. “The expedition was the only way.”

“Which leads me to the most pressing question of all,” I levelled my gaze at Keith and made it clear that I wouldn’t tolerate any half-assed answers. “Why is it that you so badly want to become my champion? You do realise that the position would require you to fight for the interests of ALL of my subjects and your fellow citizens? You wouldn’t be allowed to just pick and choose who is and is not deserving.”

“I know that...” Keith replied grimacing and contorting his scarred face in frustration. “But I could be out there freeing other Slaves!-”

“Some of which would be human,” I interjected, carefully studying his reaction.

Keith’s right eye twitched as he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “I know that,” he repeated stiffly.

“You aren’t making a convincing case for why I should choose you as a champion,” I explained patiently, appreciating the fact that Keith had kept his arguably justified xenophobia in check thus far.

“I can’t forgive them for what they have done to us!” Keith snapped bitterly, twisting his lips into a savage snarl.

“I don’t expect you to,” I interjected calmly. “I don’t expect you to forget what has happened either. However, if you want to be my champion and wield power in my name, you need to separate the evil actions of the guilty from those who had no hand in it.” I took a moment to align my thoughts. “It’s difficult, I know that, and I know that you are aware that many of the empire’s Human refugees were directly or indirectly involved in the Slave trade. Either owning a Slave or somehow benefitting from a Slave’s labour. However, it’s not a simple issue where you can just point the finger at whoever you feel like and decide they are the ones to blame and deserving of punishment.”

Keith scowled but stiffly nodded his head. “I understand...The sins of the few do not belong to all, but when I look at them-” He clenched his fists and grimaced, “I remember EVERYTHING...”

I slowly shook my head in disappointment. No matter how justified he felt in his anger, Keith was only making a stronger argument against his viability as an ideal candidate. He was a ticking time bomb of raw nerves and righteous anger just waiting for the right trigger.

This was ironic, because the same reasons that gave me misgivings in trusting Keith with a fraction of my power, were the reasons I didn’t trust myself.

***** Oba Shoji ~ Feng Liao’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Thousand Gardens City *****

Broken, bloody and defeated, Oba Shoji could only blink back tears as his grandson was crippled before his eyes. The foundation of his Cultivation damaged beyond the skill of all but the greatest healers’ ability to reverse.

What had begun as nothing more than an argument between the hotblooded youth of the rising generation, had all too quickly escalated to the brink of open war with the Xiao clan and its allies.

Already outsiders and without support or allies of their own, Oba Shoji and his clansmen had debased themselves to preserve the clan. They had surrendered everything, even their dignity to prevent a war. Even then, it hadn’t been enough.

The Xiao dogs had reneged on their promises, discarding their honour and seizing young Sora.

Unwilling to simply allow the honourless curs to simply do as they pleased, Oba Shoji and the other elders of the clan had tried to rescue his grandson. To his immense shame and regret, they had failed.

Too cruel to grant his clan a swift death, the Xiao bastards had left them to rot and die a slow agonising death in the long shadows of the city’s rancid bowels.

Already, the boldest of the rats had begun testing them, probing for the greatest place of weakness so they might fall upon the most vulnerable of the clan.

Broken as they were, the elders would hold them back for a time. But it would only be for a time.

The rats of the city were beyond counting, and they had no qualms in climbing over the bodies of their fallen. Just as content to feed on their own while preparing for the final feast.

In his heart, Oba Shoji knew that the clan’s days were numbered.

“Clan leader!” Yasui Tadashi, one of the few servants who had refused to abandon the clan, rushed down the broken cobblestone street with a piece of parchment clutched tightly in his hand.

Broken as they were, the warriors and elders of the clan peered out from their hiding places and followed Yasui’s progress with grim finality. Accepting the inevitable doom that was about to befall them.

No doubt, the Xiao dogs had grown impatient and intended to visit further humiliation upon them before delivering the final blow.

After all, what else could compel a servant as old as Yasui to run as if chased by a host of needle vipers?

“Clan leader!” Yasui repeated breathlessly, pushing aside the rotting shade cloth that served as the door to Oba Shoji’s hovel. “Clan leader, you must read this!” The elderly servant insisted, bowing and earnestly presenting the rolled parchment in both hands.

“Have they made more demands?” Oba Shoji grunted darkly, “Do they dare lay claim to the daughters of the clan? They have no shame! Heavens curse them!”

“Clan leader, the heavens may yet smile upon the Oba clan!” Yasui declared with undeserved optimism that bordered on outright delusion.

All the same, he had piqued Oba Shoji’s interest. Accepting the parchment, Oba Shoji gingerly unfurled its length while ignoring the pain emanating from his broken fingers.

Three bodies of text marked the surface of the parchment, each written in one of the primary languages of the core realms.

Oba Shoji was experienced enough with the other two languages that he could understand their intent but defaulted to his native tongue as both a matter of personal preference and the flagging demands from what remained of his pride.

“Where did you find this?” Oba Shoji demanded.

“I came across a small party of visitors from an allied realm in the sunfire petal market, clan leader. They were posting these notices on every available space they could find,” Yasui reported diligently. “Talk in the market claimed that the visitors had also made several small speeches, but I had not witnessed as much for myself.”

“You saw these visitors?” Oba Shoji pressed, unwilling to take the contents of the parchment at face value.

Yasui bobbed his head. “Yes, clan leader. I know my eyes are not what they used to be, but they appeared incredibly earnest in their duties.”

If their situation were not nearly so dire, Oba Shoji would have laughed at Yasui’s claims of failing vision. He knew for a fact that the old servant’s eyes were as shrewd as ever, Even without a talent for Cultivation, Yujiro’s line had impeccably resilient vitality.

“If it was not for the Oaths, this recruitment notice couldn’t be anything else but a trap,” Oba Shoji contemplated aloud while reading through the expected requirements and promised benefits.

“Others in the market expressed similar sentiments, clan leader,” Yujiro agreed supportively. “Many were convinced it was some form of scam...However, they carry the Golden Dragon’s seal alongside the seal of their own Monarch, the Azure Shark.”

“Are you sure of this?” Oba Shoji demanded, already weighing the risks against what little the clan had left to lose.

Yujiro raised his head and met his lord’s eyes, “Yes, clan leader, I am certain of it.” True to his word, Yujiro emanated unimpeachable certainty.

“Very well,” Oba Shoji had made up his mind. “Inform the elders to draw back the perimeter. No one is to leave or enter until I return.”

After changing into the most presentable of the clothing that remained to him, Oba Shoji left the slums and made straight for the lilting orchid winehouse. As the established drinking establishment for city law enforcement and visitors to the city, it was the most likely location he would be able to find the servants of the Azure Shark Monarch.

A clear sign that the clan’s luck was changing for the better, Oba Shoji laid eyes on the recruiting party just as they were leaving the Winehouse.

After taking a moment to address his appearance, Oba Shoji committed to his final approach.

Five in all, the recruiting party leader was of the third rank and his subordinates were of the second. This came as a surprise given the suspicion and paranoia that marked the character of all Monarchs. However, after taking a few moments to scan the surrounding area with his spiritual senses, Oba Shoji quickly realised that the recruiters had a dedicated escort that outnumbered them three to one and were all of the third rank.

The recruiters were by no means unaware of their escort and even exchanged courteous nods with their presumed counterparts.

With confirmation that the recruitment had the implicit consent of the Realm’s Monarch, a substantial degree of risk was removed from the equation.

Realm migration was incredibly rare and often dangerous. The paranoia of the Monarchs levied a presumption of guilt upon those attempting to leave just as readily as those attempting to enter. Making the job of Realm sentries much simpler if they defaulted to summary execution for anyone lacking even a single form of requested identification and certification.

As Oba Shoji expected, he was identified and became the recruiters’ focus the instant he stepped onto the street. Even with his injuries and advanced age, he was still a fifth-rank Cultivator. Even if he wanted to do so, there was little Oba Shoji could do to hide his presence at such a close range.

Rather than becoming intimidated, the recruiters grew excited and their leader eagerly moved forward to meet him halfway.

“Greetings,” the head recruiter placed one fist in the other and bowed respectfully. “I am Yu Seon-Geuk, representative of the esteemed Monarch, Yi Gim, long may he reign! Might I ask your name, esteemed senior?”

Oba Shoji returned the greeting, forcing the pain from his battered back through sheer force of will. “This senior is Oba Shoji,” he replied politely, unwilling to risk upsetting the man despite the unwanted reminder of his age and increasingly distant youth. “An esteemed representative of a Monarch need not bother themselves by bowing to one such as myself.”

The recruiter stared at Oba Shoji appraisingly for several heartbeats and then his smile became markedly more genuine. “Thank you, senior, I am gladdened by the respect you show for my master.” He bowed his head slightly in respect. “Please excuse my impertinence, but might I ask if the cause for our meeting is related to our recruitment notices?” He asked, positively brimming with expectation.

“I must admit that it is,” Oba Shoji replied politely. “However, I have several concerns that were not fully addressed by the contents of the notice,” he held up the furled parchment for emphasis.

“Then please, raise your concerns and I shall do my best to lay them to rest,” the recruiter insisted eagerly, motioning toward the Winehouse.

Despite his outward demeanour, the recruiter quickly proved that there were certain aspects of the notice that he was forbidden to discuss in greater detail. Most notably, who would be the recipient of said instruction.

Testing the waters to determine how many of the clan would be allowed to accompany each instructor, Oba Shoji was taken aback when the recruiter insisted that there was no limit. So long as they were members of the clan, the agreement between the Monarchs had no upper limits.

Similar to the topic regarding the intended patron, the subject of compensation was blunt, but also unexpectedly intriguing. While the recruiter apologised for not being at liberty to discuss the particulars, beyond a guaranteed plot of land, there was an unexpected glint of what Oba Shoji could only interpret as envy in the recruiter’s eyes.

This told Oba Shoji two things. First, that he was almost certainly sworn to silence, and second, that the compensation was sufficient to not only warrant special precautions, but it also made a third rank Cultivator desire the opportunity for themself.

The desires of first and even early second rank Cultivators were often firmly focused on the mundane. A desperate scramble to accumulate wealth as a means of acquiring power. Third rank Cultivators were another breed entirely.

Powerful enough to take what they wanted from first and second rank Cultivators, they had little need for such small levels of wealth. Third rank Cultivators had the greed of dragons in their hearts and wouldn’t show such overt envy and desire for anything less than a merchant’s life savings or a hidden cache of ancient herbs.

Becoming increasingly convinced that it was precisely the opportunity his clan needed to not only survive but perhaps even thrive. Oba Shoji’s inquiries were cut short as a fat balding pig in expensive silks threw open the door to the Winehouse.

“OBA FILTH! YOU DARE TEST OUR XIAO CLAN’S MERCY AND LEAVE YOUR RAT HOLE?!” The quintuple-chinned man demanded, sweat already beading his brow from the mere effort required to open the door. He pulled a heavy cudgel from his belt and leapt forward with incredible speed.

In his battered condition, Oba Shoji barely rose from the table before the fat man’s head was sent tumbling to the floor.

The lead recruiter, now standing behind the headless corpse, cleaned his sword with a swatch of cloth and then returned it to its sheath.

A handful of heartbeats later, five of the observers stationed outside rushed into the Winehouse and surrounded the lead recruiter.

“Apologies, honoured guides, but it appears that a stray boar has entered the city and I was forced to put it down,” he bowed respectfully, and carefully withdrew a pouch from within the confines of his formal robes. “For your troubles,” he tossed the bag to one of the observers and then withdrew another, slightly larger pouch, “For the inconvenience such a mess will no doubt cause your superiors.” he tossed the bag to the same man, forcing the recipient to sheath their sword or lose out on what was obviously intended as a bribe. “And lastly, to wet your throats. As I am certain chasing this beast and disposing of its remains will prove quite tiring,” a third and considerably larger pouch quickly joined the others.

Peeking quickly inside each pouch, the observer very nearly dropped them in surprise.

Despite not being able to see the contents, with the pouches open and their concealment Arrays compromised, Oba Shoji’s spiritual senses were more than adequate to discern what lay within. However, he simply couldn’t bring himself to believe it. The pouches were packed to bursting with what could only be the highest-grade of Spirit Stones!

The observers exchanged furtive looks with one another and nodded almost imperceptibly in agreement.

A spokesman stepped forward for the group and bowed his head slightly in polite greeting. “As a representative of his most majestic Golden Dragon, I thank you stranger for preventing further damage to public and private properties of the city.” He bowed again, and this time was joined by his fellows.

Without saying another word, the spokesman waved his hand over the corpse, absorbing it into a Spatial Ring, and then left with his compatriots in tow.

Oba Shoji couldn’t help but stare at the broken door. “That was a small fortune...” He breathed incredulously. Unable to comprehend how even a Monarch’s representative could cast such a thing away without so much as a second thought.

“Several fortunes,” the lead recruiter corrected good-naturedly as he returned to their table. “Such trifles lose their lustre when compared to true treasures,” he commented with the unmistakable hunger and desire returning to his eyes as he gazed upon something Oba Shoji could only guess at. “Provided you accept my magnanimous Monarch’s offer, I have no doubts that you will come to share our point of view.

Looking at the rest of the group, Oba Shoji could see the same greed burning just as fiercely in their eyes and knew that if he passed up this opportunity, it would be no different to spitting in the face of the heavens themselves. “When can we leave?”

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 73 - Within and without - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 73 - Within and without - Part Two

As Gric had expected, the guards waiting outside the door were quick to obey the order to enter the room, with a dozen additional reinforcements following quickly behind them.

It didn’t matter.

Gric had already witnessed the movements of the head guard and had a strong grasp of their best capabilities as a result. They were no threat to him.

“You! Outsider!” Snarled one of the elders with barely concealed terror. “You claim to be one of us? And-”

“I am not one of you,” Gric interjected coldly. “I am the Bonded lifemate of one who was stolen into Slavery. A female that had blood ties with your people. Just because I choose to take this form, does not mean I hold desires to lower myself to your level. It is a convenience...” He thought of Talia and her sad smile, “And a consideration for my lifemate, nothing more.”

“Where is your proof?!” The same elder hissed venomously.

Despite their obvious dislike for the man, the other elders looked to Gric expectantly. They too wanted answers.

“Very well,” Gric agreed haughtily. “But I will warn you now. I will rip the arms off of anyone who dares to touch her without our consent...” Beneath his murderous gaze, the room fell deathly silent.

Without needing to concentrate, Gric Summoned Talia’s projection.

Summoned through the Summon Subordinate Class Ability native to his Daemon King Class, Talia’s projection would persist so long as Gric had the mana to maintain it. Technically not a Spell, the primary difference to conventional Summons lay in the persistence of the projection Summoned. Summons from most other means would persist despite the condition of the Summoner. However, if Gric was to fall unconscious, Talia’s projection would immediately disappear.

Talia’s sudden appearance stunned the guards and elders into silence.

“Where?...” Talia’s confusion quickly turned to surprise as she became aware of the people gathered around them. “E-Elder Faras? Elder Ulthue?” She addressed the head elder and another elder in turn, seeming to recognise them.

Both elders stared back at Talia for several moments before the latter hurriedly pushed past the guards. “Talia? Child, is it really you?” The older woman reached for her with trembling fingers but stopped abruptly as she caught Gric’s stare from the corner of her eye.

Unaware of the cause for the elder’s hesitation, Talia closed the remaining distance between them and embraced the older woman in a tight embrace.

Still staring at Gric, the elder Ulthue returned Talia’s embrace and went so far as to try and shield her from Gric with her own body. Clearly not understanding Talia’s true nature as a projection, and radically misunderstanding his capabilities and intentions.

“Elder Ulthue...” Talia pulled away just far enough to look the older woman in the eyes. “My family?... Are they?...” Her voice broke before she could fully articulate her question, already fearing the worst.

Elder Ulthue looked to the head elder.

Head elder Faras stared warily at Gric with a calculating gaze before looking to the head guard. “Gather her kin,” he commanded firmly.

The head guard briefly bowed his head and then swiftly left the room.

“Talia, sweet child, you must forgive us. We know you have endured much since you were taken, but this outsider has brought death to our people...” The head elder made a point of looking down at Hrather’s body, still sprawled out on the floor beneath the unconscious form of his grief-stricken mother.

Following the head elder’s gaze, Talia’s eyes widened in shock. “G-Gric?” Confused, she looked to Gric for answers. Despite the evidence she had witnessed with her own eyes, Gric could see that Talia had not accepted the head elder’s claims at face value. She placed a higher trust in him than the leader of her own people.

“It is true,” Gric answered truthfully, refusing to sully Talia’s trust with lies. “The male, Hrather, sold your people to Slavers to settle personal grievances and advance his mother’s political aspirations.”

Talia grew tense and her eyes darkened. She stared at Hrather’s corpse with anger and disgust.

“I confirmed his role in Keith’s Enslavement, and in accordance with the Tyrant’s laws, carried out his sentence,” Gric elaborated before turning to the head elder. “Am I correct in assuming this stronghold is occupied by several tribes?” As damaged as Talia’s memories were, she had not recognised the other elders, which Gric found odd.

“We do not owe this outsider any answers!” The antagonistic elder interjected. “He has brought death to our home and must be punished!-”

“SILENCE!” The head elder snapped. “We will investigate this matter thoroughly, Elder Varga. On that, you have my promise. Elder Narcina’s quarters will be thoroughly searched and-”

“There is a secret compartment hidden beneath a wooden sculpture in her bedroom,” Gric interjected. “It contains several Items that will incriminate not only herself but also several others.”

The antagonistic elder grew deathly pale. “Lies!” He hissed defensively. “Esteemed elder Narcina’s reputation is beyond reproach! To entertain such accusations is tantamount to treason!”

Except for the head elder and elder Ulthue, the remaining elders fell into an intense battle of words, leveraging threats and influence while flinging insults at their opposition.

It did not pass Gric’s notice when one of the guards closest to the door left the chamber after receiving a discrete signal from the head elder.

Gric had not known the Elves possessed their own signing language, He made a mental note to learn it later.

Disturbed by the shouting, Talia pulled free from Ulthue’s grasp and fled into Gric’s waiting arms.

Realigning his shoulder blades, Gric unfurled his wings and wrapped them protectively round about her, shielding Talia from the world.

The spectacle brought the ongoing argument to an abrupt standstill as everyone’s attention was drawn toward Gric.

“You will be silent,” Gric commanded, teeth bared in contempt.

“You are not of our kind...” One of the elders gasped in horror, earning murmurs of assent from the others.

“I am not,” Gric answered with unrestrained disdain, returning the chamber to an ominous silence.

The silence was broken shortly thereafter as more guards entered the chamber alongside a small host of Elves bearing Talia’s likeness.

“My Talia?! Where is she?!” Cried an older male at the head of the group, a female of similar age holding tightly to his arm and frantically searching the room with her eyes.

Gric unfurled his wings and then retracted them, allowing Talia an unimpeded view of the new arrivals.

Several moments passed in absolute silence, each side staring at the other.

“Father! Mother!” Talia cried out in disbelief, tears streaming down her cheeks as he rushed unreservedly into their waiting arms.

Talia’s relatives drew inward, embracing one another and crying tears of joy. Or so Gric assumed. Without reading their minds, he couldn’t be certain.

The head elder made several discreet orders through the Elven sign language and the guards carried away Hrather’s body.

Shortly afterwards, the head guard and the guard sent to investigate elder Narcina’s quarters returned with a wicker box.

Investigating the contents of the wicker box, the head elder’s face darkened with rage. No doubt having read elder Nardina’s correspondence with the Slavers.

Keeping such incriminating evidence on hand struck Gric as being incredibly stupid. However, most corrupt leaders he had investigated kept such documentation as a means of blackmailing other individuals they were in league with.

“Ghalen! Arrest these traitors!” The head elder roared, shaking with fury as he pointed at three of elder Narcina’s most vocal defenders.

To Gric’s eyes, the accused couldn’t have looked more guilty if they had tried.

The head guard stalked toward the traitors with a club in hand. The murderous darkness in his eyes made it clear that he had investigated the contents of the box himself and was no less furious than the head elder.

Making no attempts at restraining the traitors, the head guard savagely beat them with his club until they lost consciousness. Enraged, he would have beaten them to death if several of his subordinates hadn’t stepped in.

It was obvious, even to Gric, that it had become personal. Whatever he had learned from the contents of the box had transitioned his established disdain into a murderous rage.

Studying the head guard’s face, Gric was unable to match his features against the handful of Elves living within Sanctuary. Whoever he had lost, there was an incredibly high chance they were already dead, or in such a state their death would be a welcome alternative.

***** Tim ~ Tim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Sanctuary *****

After revealing, and subsequently curing their Guardian Spirit, the Maenad held me in an uncomfortably high regard. My discomfort only increased as the Spirit used its temporary corporeality to encourage its people to throw themselves on my mercy and swear their undying allegiance.

It was an underhanded move, and entirely unnecessary. I would have extended the offer anyway.

The Spirit’s encouragement only served to make matters far more awkward.

I was used to being seen as a liberator and took a certain degree of comfort in the respect and gratitude it afforded. The Maenads’ fanatical awe and fervour was something else entirely, and I didn’t like it.

It was for that reason that I made a point of leaving them to their own devices just as soon as I could justify doing so. Settled in a new patch of land all their own, and provided provisions that would last them a month, I left them to build their new home.

Shortly after returning to The Grove, Gric requested a semi-isolated territory. After listening to his reasons for the request, I decided that it would be for the best.

The Elves needed time to shift off of a wartime footing, and I had plenty of territories to spare. So long as Gric committed to acclimating them to Sanctuary’s diaspora of Species, I didn’t have a problem with it.

After settling matters with Gric, I spent the remainder of the day with my family.

Explaining Lurr’s situation to Lash required a great deal of assumptions and guesswork on my part. However, Lash had already been informed of Lurr’s death through his death notification, and later been notified by the Daemons of his presence in the hospital. So all that had remained were the details bridging the events together.

Deciding to check in on Lurr together, we were disappointed to find that he was still unconscious.

“It strongly resembles a mana starvation coma,” Wraithe explained worriedly. “Only, his energy is gradually fading instead of replenishing itself...Mana solutions have been administered, but only provide momentary spikes in restored energy.”

“Maybe we just need to increase the dosage?” I suggested neutrally.

Wraithe shook her head vigorously in disagreement, her fingers and nose twitching anxiously. “I am sorry, my Tyrant, but we have tested the limits of his liver quite thoroughly already. To go any further would invite disaster.”

“What about Hana and Jin’s plants?” I asked, “Have you tried feeding him a loose mash?”

Wraithe sighed dispiritedly and nodded. “It had similar results...”

“So maybe it's a specific source of energy that he’s missing,” I reasoned aloud, grasping at straws. “None of Hana’s mutated hybrid plants possess Thunder energy or Affinity, and the Evolution Elixir and Mana Potions certainly wouldn’t have it.”

“That is a fair assumption,” Wraithe agreed, albeit somewhat hesitantly. “But how will we acquire this energy?”

“I have a few different ideas...” I admitted, drawing on my Chi and taking hold of Lurr’s left hand. “Move back,” I waved Lash Wraithe back, uncertain whether injecting Chi directly into Lurr’s body would be dangerous.

Once the others had moved back to what I hoped was a safe distance, I tried injecting my Chi into Lurr’s body.

Like running raw honey through a fine sieve, the majority of my Chi splashed outward and found almost no purchase. However, a small portion did find purchase.

Releasing my hold on that small portion of Chi, I could sense it being drawn toward Lurr’s abdomen, bolstering his energy ever so slightly with each passing moment.

Emboldened by what I hoped was positive progress, I continued circulating my Chi and transferring it through Lurr’s hand.

As my Chi came close to being depleted, I felt a mild lethargy building in my core and decided to stop.

Unfortunately, Lurr was still unconscious and unresponsive.

“Do not be dismayed, my Tyrant!” Wraithe chittered excitedly, “The patient’s energy has been restored by nearly half of what was lost! Perhaps two, maybe even three, more of such treatments will prove sufficient to revive the patient!”

I had never ‘spent’ my Chi before and had no way of knowing how long it would take to replace it. So I was finding it difficult to share in Wraithe’s optimism.

“The Humans have answers,” Lash suggested supportively. Either guessing at the source of my unease or identifying the next logical step I should take in the current circumstances.

I rested my brow against hers and took a moment to appreciate the familiarity that had grown between us.

The short respite afforded unexpected clarity, drawing inspiration to the forefront of my mind. I didn’t need to question the Humans. I needed to construct an Array that would draw and concentrate energy into a small area.

If the environment was rich enough in energy, Lurr might be able to recover on his own. Even if he couldn’t, the concentrated energy would allow me to replenish my Chi at an accelerated rate.

Of course, I needed an environment rich in the alternative energy to begin with. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be much of a difference.

So it was fortuitous that I had recently gained several such territories from my fellow Monarch and probationary ally, Yi Gim.

Despite being incapable of manipulating the alternative energy themselves, Gric and Sebet could sense it just the same as mana, So I wasn’t at all surprised when they both identified the same mountain range as possessing the highest naturally occurring concentration of energy.

The abandoned cities within the territories possessed dozens, even hundreds, of energy drawing Arrays of varying scale and power. However, their efficiency and effectiveness were at odds with their sheer distance from the highest concentrations of energy. Furthermore, the majority were compromised as a result of their jade foundations being stripped out and carted away by the former owners.

Of course, Yi Gim's warning had proven true as well. The Beasts of the Cultivation system were drawn toward the higher concentrations of energy and fought one another over territory.

The mountain range in question was home to a giant ape and a cadre of much weaker Beasts. According to Gric and Sebet’s report, the ape would drive off any Beast that grew too strong but otherwise left the weaklings alone the majority of the time. However, it was not out of a sense of charity or benevolence. The ape allowed them to remain so they could serve as a convenient food source to supplement its omnivorous diet.

Exercising my authority, I imposed a barrier around the largest mountain that would prevent entry by anyone lacking my explicit permission and then expelled its occupants to the surrounding mountains. After confirming that the local Beasts were incapable of traversing the barrier, I placed similar barriers around the abandoned cities.

I hadn’t decided what I would do with the cities just yet but decided it would be prudent to prevent undue damage while I considered my options.

Upon arriving at the peak of the mountain, I was momentarily overcome by the sheer density of the energy present in the air. Even without an Array to gather and concentrate it, the energy was many times greater than I had experienced thus far.

With each breath, I could feel my body being reinvigorated.

Ignoring the bones littering the peak, I used the Shape Stone Spell to level space for the Array and then erected five pillars following the instructions for a large-scale Array. With Gric’s help and penmanship, we carved the required symbols into the ground and pillars.

Gradually, the concentration of energy began to grow, signalling the success of our efforts. However, even after regenerating my Chi, I still felt somehow incomplete. The sensation was slowly fading, but it was impossible to ignore outright.

Reviewing the instructions and descriptions of the different Arrays and Formations, I eventually stumbled upon the answer.

While I could not be absolutely certain, there was a reasonably high chance that I had depleted my Thunder Affinity-infused Chi when injecting Chi into Lurr. Furthermore, an absence of ambient Thunder-aligned energy to draw on was delaying the accumulated concentration of Thunder Affinity in my Chi.

Making matters worse, standard Arrays and Formations were incapable of drawing energies aligned with specific Affinities. Thus, any energy gathered by the Array or Formation would be mixed according to the ambient energy within the draw radius of the Array or Formation.

Which was a problem if I specifically required Thunder-aligned energy to recover the Affinity.

Of course, the same manual that identified the problem also provided a solution. I needed a Formationist.

Where other Cultivation Classes gained combat benefits in the form of passive increases to Momentum, Reaction Speed, Spatial Awareness and the like, the Formationist, at least according to the references inferred from the manual, were different.

A Formationist could, theoretically, imbue their Arrays and Formations with their own Affinities, inducing effects otherwise outside of the scope of other Cultivators. They also had the Ability to create temporary Arrays and Formations out of Chi without the need for physical anchors and foci.

Of course, this meant that possessing at least one Affinity would be required to make the Formationist Class worthwhile. Incidentally, also increasing the value of the Class for every Affinity beyond the first.

Yi Gim had told me that Affinities could be gained by taking special pills and medicine made from high-Affinity materials. So I was reasonably confident that, if given sufficient time, Jin could provide these benefits in the future. However, I needed that Array sooner rather than later, and Thunder Affinity was supposedly amongst the rarest Affinities.

Leaving myself as the only available candidate for the Class.

It was somewhat ironic since one of the primary uses listed for the Chi and energy gathering Arrays was infusing plants of a matching Affinity with the aligned energy and increasing their potency. In turn, making them more effective and increasing the effectiveness of the pill or medicine.

There was no reason to justify my procrastination in selecting a Cultivation Class. I had been giving the matter almost no thought whatsoever. It was only while dealing with the Cultivators or matters directly relating to them that I thought about it.

A part of me wanted another adaptive Class. However, I knew that it was incredibly unlikely that the already highly malleable Cultivation system would possess such a Class. The reason being that it would be painfully redundant.

After giving the matter a great degree of thought, I decided that passive combat benefits were not nearly as valuable as the means to rapidly replenish my combat power. Furthermore, there were the realm-wide benefits Affinity-aligned Arrays and Formations could provide.

Why pursue personal power, when I could just as easily raise an army with the same effort?

Besides, being a Formationist would allow me to directly increase and support Pete and Suzy’s development. Making them that much more capable of protecting themselves and one another.

Allowing Gric and Sebet to review my train of thought directly, I was relieved when they both not only agreed with my decision but also actively insisted upon it. Albeit for reasons I hadn’t considered.

“A temporary Formation that draws the mana from your enemy’s bones and leaves them defenceless! It is just too powerful!” Sebet Gushed enthusiastically. “And we do not know the limits of what Affinity aligned Formations could accomplish!”

“Mobile defensive countermeasures cannot be undervalued,” Gric insisted determinedly, “Blocking Spells without expending MP on a Barrier and imprisoning swift enemies have self-evident benefits. Strengthening the next generation should not be undervalued either.” It was unclear if Gric was referring to Pete and Suzy, or the population of Cultivators at large.

Confirming the Class selection, my expectations were confirmed upon reviewing my alternate Status sheet.

[ ( Class Ability: Affinity Endowment ): Through practice and divining the nature of the eternal Tao, the Taoist may draw upon their connections to the universe and impart the Affinities of their soul into worthy vessels. The effect is determined by the Rank of the Affinity. ]

[ ( Class Ability: Soul Foci ): Understanding their relationship to the Tao, the Taoist may use the foundations imposed by their soul as a temporary Anchoring Foci. The base duration is determined by {Willpower}. ]

Attempting to form a temporary Formation, I gathered my Chi and pictured a simple Chi gathering Formation in my mind.

Almost immediately, golden lights flared into existence around me and formed the characters of the Formation. There wasn’t much Chi in the immediate area, but I could feel trace amounts feeding into the Formation and bolstering its strength ever so slightly.

Content with the test, I withdrew my Chi and allowed the Formation to collapse. I decided to test it more thoroughly at a later time.

Layering and linking a chi-gathering Formation to power the energy-gathering Formation, I met with several failures before stumbling upon how to imprint a specific Affinity on the Formations. The key lay in concentrating on thoughts I associated with the specific Affinity.

Because of my hang-ups over lightning being included under the classification of Thunder, it made alignment to the Thunder Affinity a somewhat more involved thought process than Water or Earth.

Despite the setbacks, the combined Array appeared to be working. However, there was still a problem. There was very little ambient Thunder energy to harvest with the Array.

Giving the matter some more thought, I arrived at a rather simple solution.

If I wanted to accelerate the accumulation of Thunder energy, I needed to trigger another Heavenly Tribulation.

Once there was a foundation of the energy present on the mountain, Lurr would be able to generate more of the energy on his own...

Except his Chi was slowly disappearing instead of expelling a surplus as ambient energy...

I would need another Cultivator with Thunder Affinity to generate the additional energy Lurr would need. Or a host of Affinity-bearing plants he could consume.

Considering the options, I decided seeking Hana’s advice and expertise would likely provide better results. Especially since Thunder-aligned materials would be required to try and raise a Thunder Affinity within a Cultivator anyway.

“I think I understand what you want, Tim,” Hana replied somewhat distractedly as she explored the peak with child-like curiosity. “Of course, I won’t be able to accelerate their growth like normal plants...” She leaned over the cliffside to take a closer look at a tree growing further down the mountain. “What about a tree?” Hana asked with a smile on her lips while her grass-like hair flew wildly in the wind

“A tree would be fine,” I agreed amiably, more concerned with finding a viable option than indulging a personal preference.

Plucking a small round fruit from the tree, Hana stepped away from the cliff and inspected the fruit more closely. Nodding in approval, she held up the fruit so I could see it more clearly.

To my immense surprise, it looked like a small peach. “I didn’t know peach trees could grow in the mountains...” I admitted somewhat awkwardly.

“Peach?” Hana repeated curiously, “That’s an odd name, but now that you have said it, I can’t think of a different one that would suit it better...”

“Sometimes it’s like that,” I chuckled self-deprecatingly. “The name you hear first tends to stick.”

Hana nodded in understanding, rolling the peach around in her palm. “It will need access to soil,” she insisted distractedly, motioning offhandedly to the bare stone dominating the grounds within the boundary of the Arrays. “At least a few feet across and as much depth as you can provide.”

“Calling upon Ochram would seem appropriate,” Sebet suggested helpfully. “Transmuting and transporting stone in such volumes would certainly fall under his unique expertise.”

Gric grunted wordlessly in agreement, grimacing with distaste.

Summoning Ochram, I allowed Hana to explain the tree’s current and future needs.

After only a few minutes of ‘talking shop’ the pair seemed to have become fast friends, avidly discussing ideal soil aeration and the effects of nitrate concentration on topsoil retention. Or something like that...I found it difficult to follow half of what they were saying. Especially since the terms they were using were utterly alien to me and I had to guess at what they approximated in Earth definitions.

While they were busy, I decided that it would probably be best if I took a few precautions and upgraded the materials used for the Formations.

Regular stone would work fine, but the unique peculiarities of the Cultivation system would guarantee a better result using jade instead. The higher the quality of the jade, the more efficient and powerful it would make the Formations.

Furthermore, intending to deliberately attract lightning, it seemed prudent to source the construction of conductors that would bear the burden of redirecting the supercharged plasma away from vulnerable organic matter. Theoretically, so long as the Thunder-infused Chi was drawn into the range of the Thunder-attuned energy-gathering Formation, that was all that really mattered.

Sketching a diagram and attaching measurement references, I sent Gric to place a rush order with the Dwergi forge masters for thick spools of copper wire and five hundred-foot-long iron rods.

I had very little understanding of how modern lightning rods were made, or even what they looked like. I just knew that the core principles involved required a highly conductive material to draw the lightning away from shorter less conductive objects.

Ideally, I would have preferred to commission solid copper rods, but copper was profoundly rare within my realm. Unlike iron, which dropped as a bonus reward from certain monsters, copper had to be imported. Making it far rarer and considerably more valuable under the immutable laws of supply and demand.

More or less starting over gave Ochram and Hana free reign to prepare the ground to their exacting specifications. Including boring through the heart of the mountain to secure flowing water to create a new stream that would run down the mountainside.

By the time Gric returned several hours later, Hana and Ochram had terraformed the barren mountaintop into a secluded paradise. Not quite the equal of The Grove, there was still a certain something about the place that lent it a peace and tranquillity all its own.

Hana had done her best, but she strongly suspected that the first few generations of plant life would struggle to survive against any amount of lightning, magical or otherwise. The fact that she had been able to alter several species of plants to take on Thunder Affinity at all was already incredibly impressive and had vastly exceeded my original expectations. So I made a point of thanking Hana and accepting any damages as my own responsibility.

Ochram had made a small amount of unexpected progress as well. Managing to slightly alter the jade and surrounding stone to provide a marginal level of Thunder Affinity. The contribution was an unexpected boon, so I didn’t bat an eye at Ochram’s request for more of the Chi-infused jade to snack on.

The Spirit Stones held value in trade, but I considered Ochram’s work to be far more valuable and gave him the freedom to do whatever he wanted with the remainder leftover from his initial tests.

Hana didn’t ask for anything, convinced that all the new interesting plants I had ‘gifted’ to her were more than adequate compensation. All the same, I made a mental note to try and find more exotic plants for her collection.

With Gric and Sebet’s help, we anchored the iron rods into the mountain and submerged a net made from the copper wiring into the stone. Although the net was connected to the iron rods, I wasn’t sure whether it would generate the grounding effect I wanted. However, it was well outside my knowledge base to begin with, so I could only hope for the best.

With everything else seemingly accounted for, all I needed was a Cultivator that I could push to trigger a Tribulation.

Given the low energy present in the populated Cultivation territories, one volunteer would be more or less the same as another. However, there were two Cultivators that possessed far higher Cultivation than the rest.

The first was Jin. He had a headstart on the others due to being a Cultivator before becoming my subject. I was also reasonably certain that working alongside Hana amidst their hybrid botany projects had provided a small amount of incidental development.

The second was Zhu Min, the Daemonic Cultivator. I had left her in relative isolation to train her Gluttonous Soul Class Ability. Specifically, to develop her control over the Ability to avoid inflicting harm upon others accidentally.

Technically, Zhu Min’s grandfather, Zhu Wen, could be considered a distant third as a potential candidate. However, the overwhelming majority of his Cultivation had been achieved through absorbing the crystalised energy Cultivators called Elixirs. Even with that boost, his progress was far lower than that of his granddaughter.

As the only Cultivation Alchemist within my realm, Jin was too valuable to risk with the uncomfortably large number of unknowns in play.

Leaving Zhu Min as the next best option. Assuming she had developed at least some degree of control.

Using my authority to relocate to Zhu Min’s isolated training ground, I was joined almost immediately afterwards by Sebet.

“She really has been making great strides under my guidance,” Sebet volunteered pridefully. “After I identified the correct motivation, it was all rather simple.”

“Motivation?” I pressed, unable to restrain my suspicions.

Sebet waved one hand in feigned bashfulness, “Oh Great One, it was nothing quite so debased!” She grinned despite herself. “I simply leveraged mild hypnosis to convince the little lamb that the furballs were small children. Her motivation and subconscious control increased by leaps and bounds overnight, just like that!” Sebet snapped her fingers and looked incredibly pleased with herself.

“And you have since removed the hypnosis, right?” I pressed, making no attempts at hiding the warning in my tone. Sebet had trod a dangerous line in hypnotising another one of my subjects. Most likely, she had only been capable of justifying it to her Oath and Contract due to the danger Zhu Min’s Ability had presented to the wider population.

“Of course!” Sebet replied hurriedly but without any traces of guilt or regret. “I was very careful, and wouldn’t have resorted to such measures if our little lady had made greater progress of her own initiative and motivation.” She shrugged indifferently. “She is quite proud of her accomplishments, so I don’t think she minds. Not that it would make much difference if she did,” Sebet smirked and flicked her tail in amusement. Although it was unclear exactly why.

We found Zhu Min meditating before a cage containing a surprisingly large horned rabbit.

True to Sebet’s claims, Zhu Min appeared to have gained control over her Gluttonous Soul Ability. At the very least, I couldn’t feel external pressure on my mana and internal energy.

Despite her deep state of meditation, Zhu Min was quick to acknowledge our presence. Leaping nimbly to her feet and then bowing in one fluid motion. “Patriarch! Master!”

“Oh I do so love that word,” Sebet purred, causing Zhu Min’s cheeks to flush slightly.

Ignoring Sebet’s blatant provocation, I motioned to the caged rabbit. “You were training your Gluttonous Soul Ability just now, correct?”

Zhu Min nodded earnestly, “Yes, Patriarch.”

“In your own opinion, do you believe you can uphold your Oath and obey my laws?” I would have a more unbiased test performed before releasing Zhu Min into the general population, but I was curious to hear her own thoughts on the matter.

“I...” Zhu Min worried at her lip and glanced anxiously toward the caged rabbit. “I am, Patriarch,” the tone of her voice was not particularly convincing, but there was a strong possibility that I had caused her to doubt herself just by asking the question.

I made a show of nodding in approval to try and set her at ease. “I want you to know that I appreciate the risks you have taken in pioneering a new path for your people, Zhu Min,” I insisted with all the sincerity I could muster.

After overcoming her surprise, Zhu Min had to fight to stop herself from beaming with pride.

“Which is why I have another opportunity for you,” I continued while suppressing a faint sense of guilt rising from my gut. “I won’t lie to you. There are certain risks I can’t fully account for or otherwise eliminate. So there is a very real danger that you might be injured...” I took a steadying breath and was relieved to find my conscience had been satisfied. “However, you will be compensated for those risks. Besides the rewards inherent to the opportunity itself, and so long as it is within my power to provide, you may name your own price as compensation.”

There would, of course, be certain limitations, but I doubted Zhu Min had the poor sense to ask for something she knew I wouldn’t approve of.

“I...” Zhu Min began worrying at her lip again, understandably conflicted over the offer.

“Perhaps it would help if she knew more of the opportunity?” Sebet suggested with altogether too much confidence to have arrived at that particular approach without trawling the young woman’s mind first.

“Very well,” I agreed, appreciating the insight. “In the simplest terms possible, I want to push your Cultivation and trigger a Tribulation so I can harvest the Thunder-aligned energies.”

Zhu Min’s eyes widened in shock and she took several steps backwards before stopping herself.

“Of course, most of the risks are related to the lightning itself. I have made certain precautions, but there are no guarantees that the lightning will behave as I expect it to,” I explained while doing my best to suppress my rising nerves. “From my understanding, you would face the Tribulation eventually. However, the Arrays I have created might alter events in ways I haven’t anticipated. Which is why-”

“I will do it!” Zhu Min called out with what quickly proved to be far more intensity and volume than she intended. Blushing hard with embarrassment, Zhu Min stared hard at the ground. “I-I-I...Uh...I beg your forgiveness, Patriarch! I did not intend to speak out of turn!”

“There is nothing to forgive,” I replied quickly, dismissing her need for an apology before she could suggest sacrificing her reward for an entirely unnecessary pardon.

If we had been in a public setting, I would have handled things somewhat differently. However, with just the three of us as witnesses, Zhu Min’s informality was practically harmless.

Zhu Min stiffly bowed her head in gratitude but remained determinedly silent.

“She’s embarrassed, but very willing,” Sebet tittered with a lascivious grin, evidently taking considerable enjoyment in her wordplay. “So perhaps it would be best if we were to proceed to the next stage of the plan?”

“Agreed.” With a thought, I relocated the three of us back to the mountain.

“Easy!” Sebet called out in warning, dashing to Zhu Min’s side and catching her by the shoulders before she could collapse to the ground. “It appears the ambient energy might be a bit much for her,” Sebet explained somewhat sheepishly. “She will need at least a few minutes to acclimate. But I suppose this is still in line with our original intentions.”

“Active use of the Breathing Techniques is more effective,” I sighed, “But you’re right. No point crying over spilt milk.”

Sebet settled Zhu Min against a mossy boulder and helped make her comfortable. Without a captive audience and a helpless victim, she didn’t seem interested in indulging her perverse sense of humour. Or rather, her perverse sensibilities in general.

<It’s not an act.> Sebet interjected, interrupting my train of thought. <I know that is what you were thinking, and I strongly encourage you to consider things otherwise.> She shared several deeply disturbing and entirely unwanted images involving Clarice and what I realised had to be their consensual sex life. Or whatever it the deranged equivalent Sebet had substituted in its place.

“Don’t confuse the requirements of your Contract with an excuse to ‘share’ such things again, Sebet,” I warned, banishing the unwanted images into the darkest corners of my mind I could find.

“Apologies, Great One. It won’t happen again,” Sebet promised, her lips pursed in just such a way that it was painfully clear she was making a show of not smiling.

“Thin ice, Sebet,” I cautioned with an exasperated sigh, “Thin ice.”

“Noted...” Sebet rolled her neck and shoulders then assumed a decidedly altogether neutral expression.

While Zhu Min slowly acclimated to the energy concentration, I sent Sebet hunting for suitable Beasts lower down the mountain and set about creating reinforced stone cages.

The same thing that had made Zhu Min a potential disaster would now expedite my plan. By consuming the internal energy of the Beasts, her Cultivation would increase by leaps and bounds. Making a matter of when, not if, she would trigger a Tribulation.

Of course, rapidly accumulating so much energy would almost certainly generate Heart Demons, requiring Zhu Min to purge them before I would risk allowing her to mingle amongst the greater population. It was something she would have to have undertaken anyway, but I had no way of knowing how her Gluttonous Soul would influence her development of the Heart Demons.

There was a real chance that Zhu Min would survive the Tribulation unscathed, only to lose her mind confronting an insurmountable manifestation of her own subconscious.

Trying not to dwell on outcomes I couldn’t fully control, I tempered my guilt by reminding myself that Lurr would probably die without a timely intervention. Furthermore, I wasn’t forcing Zhu Min to participate...

I had just made her an offer she would truly struggle to refuse...

Sebet wasted no time in hunting down Beasts and using her authority to remotely teleport them into the available cages.

For the most part, the Beasts appeared normal, almost passable compared to their Earth counterparts. Of course, there were minor details, like the foxes having too many tails, and tigers with neon green fur, but that was relatively normal compared to some of the nightmare-fueled abominations the other system was capable of.

Then again, there was still plenty of room for surprises.

To her immense credit, Zhu Min acclimated far quicker than I would have given her credit for.

I hadn’t noticed when exactly she had started drawing in and cycling the ambient energy with her Breathing Technique, but I could sense Zhu Min’s internal energy growing with each passing second.

After nearly an hour, and gaining several Ranks in the Eternal Tao, her progress slowed. However, it wasn’t because she had outgrown the ambient energy provided by the mountain. It was because Zhu Min had absorbed so much of the ambient energy that it couldn’t be replaced fast enough to sustain her rapid rate of advancement.

That changed when Sebet returned and began lobotomising the caged Beasts with the Shape Flesh Spell, rendering them brain dead and allowing Zhu Min to effortlessly devour their internal energy.

Somehow, Sebet’s utter indifference lent the events a sense of cruelty I became convinced it otherwise would have found lacking.

I had seen videos of livestock being culled by compressed air bolt guns. But Sebet had an air of psychopathy that was utterly alien to any frame of reference or comparison my mind attempted to establish.

When a Beast’s internal energy was drained, Sebet discarded it. Sending the bodies who knew where.

After watching Sebet dispatch the seventh Beast, I closed my mind to it.

There was no life without death, and in readjusting my perspective, it was little different from butchering Beasts for food...

Only, instead of killing them for their meat, we killed them for their souls...

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice the darkening sky and gathering storm clouds until the first drops of rain began running down my face.

Looking skyward, I could sense Thunder-aligned energy gradually building above us. Seemingly too far for the Arrays to reach, I could only direct Zhu Min to the centre of the Arrays and wait.

The temptation to relocate her to ‘safety’ evaporated just as soon as I realised the building energies were actively following her.

The books discussing the Tribulations had said it was possible to avoid or even deflect the lightning strikes through the use of powerful Techniques. However, they had not mentioned the possibility of escaping a Tribulation outright, and now I knew why.

The Tribulation was generated by the Cultivation system itself. Anywhere the system had a foothold, the Tribulation would be able to follow.

With no telling if its reach extended to the world outside, I realised Zhu Min was probably already sitting in the safest place possible.

Even so, I couldn’t help but flinch as the first flash of lightning arced from the sky.

With no telling whether the iron rods would serve their intended purpose, I felt my heart stop beating in anticipation of the worst.

However, blinded as I was by the lightning, I had no way of knowing what had happened.

As if recognising this fact, my heart began beating again.

It was only after the lightning storm generated by the Tribulation faded that I was able to see what had transpired.

Two of the iron rods had been halved in height, melted like wax candles. Still cherry red, hissing and spitting as they are struck by the rain. The other rods were in better shape but had not escaped altogether unscathed.

To the best of my knowledge, lightning was not meant to have enough lingering energy to melt metal. Which made the damage all the more daunting, and the fact that I had survived, even more miraculous.

Putting the lightning rods out of my mind, my attention was drawn to Zhu Min’s unconscious form sprawled out on the ground. However, before I could even begin to move, Sebet appeared at her side and helped Zhu Min to her feet.

Dazed and unsteady on her feet, Zhu Min was grinning wildly from ear to ear. “I did it!” She cried triumphantly, “I survived the Tribulation!!!” She flinched and momentarily lost her nerve as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, but I couldn’t blame her for it. It appeared that the system had a sense for dramatic timing, which I found far more upsetting than the assumed interjection itself, no matter how well-timed it objectively may have been.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 73 - Within and without - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 73 - Within and without - Part One

Staring at my Status information, I was having difficulty understanding how it could have changed so drastically and in such a short period. There was nothing new, but the values relating to my Affinities and Chi had increased dramatically.

[Tim - Lake Ogre-Mage {Monarch} ]  [Chi: 37*/37* {Water, Earth, Fire, Thunder, Wood, Death, Space} ]

[Class: None.]
[Party: Tim’s Party] [Lash’s Mate]

[Bloodline: {Tyrant 3} +1 Willpower.] [Bloodline Progeny: Pete, Suzy.]

[Cultivation Inheritance: {Tyrant’s Body} ]

[Strength: 25* ]

[Agility: 10 ]

[Toughness: 29* ]

[Intelligence: 12 ]

[Willpower: 18* (19*) ]

[Presence: 8* ]

[ (Racial Ability: Eternal Tao {Rank 37}): Through meditation the Taoist becomes a receptacle for universal energy. Through shedding imperfections and gaining insight into the true nature of being, the Taoist gains mastery over existence. ]

[ (Racial Ability: Affinity of Water {Rank 8}): The soul of the Taoist is one with the waters of life and may draw upon its essence through meditation and a deeper understanding of the Tao. ]

[ (Racial Ability: Affinity of Earth {Rank 6}): The soul of the Taoist is one with the indomitable earth and may draw upon its essence through meditation and a deeper understanding of the Tao. ]

[ (Racial Ability: Affinity of Fire {Rank 1}): The soul of the Taoist is one with the flames of destruction and may draw upon its essence through meditation and a deeper understanding of the Tao. ]

[ (Racial Ability: Affinity of Thunder {Rank 13}): The soul of the Taoist is one with the tumultuous thunder and may draw upon its essence through meditation and a deeper understanding of the Tao. ]

[ (Racial Ability: Affinity of Wood {Rank 2}): The soul of the Taoist is one with the seeds of nature and may draw upon its essence through meditation and a deeper understanding of the Tao. ]

[ (Racial Ability: Affinity of Death {Rank 5}): The soul of the Taoist is one with the inevitability of death and may draw upon its essence through meditation and a deeper understanding of the Tao. ]

[ (Racial Ability: Affinity of Space {Rank 10}): The soul of the Taoist is one with the ether of dimensions and may draw upon its essence through meditation and a deeper understanding of the Tao. ]

[Group Synergies: {Hide/Expand}]

Scanning the information over and over again, I only became more confused.

According to the books, Affinities were only meant to increase in rank when exposed to high concentrations of raw energy containing that same Affinity. However, except for the lightning, which I was still not entirely convinced had been a Tribulation, I hadn’t been exposed to any Affinity-rich energy besides...my own magic.

The presence of the Fire Affinity clinched it. All of my Affinities were somehow derived from the Spells I could cast. It was difficult to accept the possibility that casting those Spells would somehow increase their related Affinities, but I had no other way of explaining what had happened.

And Lurr...I still didn’t know what to think.

I wouldn’t know the extent of the damage or any potential changes until he regained consciousness. Assuming there were any changes to be found at all.

“My Tyrant...” Gric had appeared without my noticing and I was concerned to discover his left arm was still hanging limp at his side.

“You’re injured,” I observed aloud, too tired to care that he would certainly have been aware of that particular fact.

Gric nodded and shrugged somewhat indifferently. “I will heal,” he declared with unshakable confidence.

“Wait...” Something didn’t quite fit. “You arrived injured...and so did Ophelia...”

I felt a sinking feeling in my gut as my subconscious pieced things together.

“You were projections...It shouldn’t have been able to hurt you...” It was the reason I had allowed them to rush ahead, to take risks...Because I thought their true selves would be safe...

“The Spirit’s attacks persisted through the termination of our Summoned projections,” Gric admitted obediently. “In time, our injuries will heal...” A trace of uncertainty in his voice ran contrary to his words and gave me cause for concern.

Extending my senses toward Gric’s arm, I very nearly recoiled in fear and disgust upon making contact with the entropic energies raging within. Gric seemed to have it contained, but I couldn’t believe he would be able to drive the energies out on his own.

It came as an even greater source of surprise and disgust that I could feel the energies being drawn toward me. Like tendrils of a sickly leviathan, the entropic energies bled out of Gric’s arm and trailed through the air toward my body.

Despite my revulsion, I maintained my concentration. It was my fault that Gric had been infected in the first place. So purging the infection from his body was also my responsibility.

Contrary to my expectations, as the tendrils of entropy touched my skin, I only felt a mild decrease in ambient temperature. The energies drawn into my body were swept toward my abdomen and disappeared.

After ten minutes of intense concentration, the final traces of entropic energies were removed from Gric’s arm.

“Thank you, my Tyrant,” Gric bowed low on one knee.

“Send for Ophelia,” I ordered, suppressing my discomfort. “I will be waiting by the lakeside.”

“As you command, my Tyrant,” Gric replied before abruptly disappearing through the use of my authority.

After scanning Lurr and confirming there were no signs of the entropic energies, I used my authority to return to the lakeside.

Investigating the site of Lurr’s resurrection, I quickly realised that I had been wrong in assuming the lightning was mundane in nature. Without even trying, I could feel the Thunder energy radiating from the scorched earth.

Assuming a meditation stance, I drew the energies into my body. As the energy made contact with my skin, small sparks skittered up and down my arms, releasing the faint but otherwise unmistakable acrid smell of ozone. However, unlike Gric’s arm, the earth refused to surrender the final vestiges of the energy contained within. Furthermore, the remaining Thunder energy seemed to be replenishing itself. Albeit at an incredibly slow rate.

Born aloft by wings of shimmering copper light, Ophelia made no attempts at masking her approach from her home above the centre of the lake. Stripped down to her civilian attire, Ophelia clutched at her side with one arm and wore a mask of grim acceptance. As she drew closer, the ashen hue of her skin became unmistakable.

Despite her pain, Ophelia dismissed her wings and prepared to kneel.

Catching Ophelia beneath the arms with one hand, I was able to support her entire body weight without conscious effort. “Show me,” I commanded, nodding toward her midsection.

Ophelia averted her eyes and silently lifted her tunic just high enough to reveal two long black welts that circled her hip and ran across her abdomen. The blackened skin was cracked and weeping discoloured pus.

Probing Ophelia’s body with my heightened senses, I began actively drawing the Death energy out of her wounds.

Gasping in relief or pain, it was difficult to tell which, Ophelia stiffened in my grasp. However, she made no attempts to shy away or escape.

Inch by inch, the black stain in Ophelia’s flesh receded, leaving ragged and raw inflammation in its wake. However, with the Death energy removed from her wounds, the infection began to recede and the inflamed flesh slowly began knitting itself back together.

After the last of the Death energy was drawn out of her body, I gently set Ophelia down on her own two feet.

Although somewhat unsteady and still quite pale, Ophelia’s eyes shone brightly with gratitude. “My thanks, Tyrant!” Her wings flashed into being once more and she leapt into the air, throwing her arms around my neck and drawing herself into a tight embrace.

“It’s nothing,” I deflected somewhat awkwardly and gingerly patted her back. “It’s the least I could do.”

Ophelia maintained the embrace for a few moments longer and then pulled away. “I will remember your kindness,” she promised and then slowly began making her way back to her home in the willow trees at the centre of the lake.

Watching Ophelia go, something stirred in the dark corners of my mind. I felt an unexplainable pang of irritation.

How dare she express such familiarity! And of course, she should remember his magnanimity!

Just as quickly as the thoughts had asserted themselves, they disappeared. Leaving me deeply concerned.

Reviewing my Status again, I discovered my Thunder and Death Affinities had both increased by several ranks since I had last checked. Achieving the seventeenth and ninth rank respectively. Even my Chi had increased by one point.

Slowly walking along the lakeshore in the moonlight, movement in my peripheral vision drew my attention toward the surface of the lake. However, besides my reflection and the ripples caused by my heavy steps, I saw no other signs of movement.

Shaking my head to try and clear my thoughts, I turned away and continued my walk.

Unwilling to return to my bed until my thoughts were fully accounted for, I spent the remainder of the night silently patrolling the lakeshore in the rain.

By the time the sun began peeking over the treeline, I was convinced I understood the cause for the increasingly intrusive thoughts and emotional instability.

Heart Demons.

While my active Cultivation efforts were pathetic to the point of being almost non-existent, using magic had somehow caused my Chi to grow by leaps and bounds. Poisoning my mind in the process.

If the Heart Demons were not purged, I would only grow increasingly unstable over time.

Even after purging the Heart Demons, I would need to repeat the process regularly to prevent them from influencing my thoughts and emotional state.

Having identified the problem, I now had to make preparations for the treatment.

Yi Gim had provided written instructions for the ritual. However, material components, such as the incense sticks, or the meditation shrine, were not something I had on hand.

At my request, Gric saw to the construction of the meditation shrine, while Sebet assisted Jin the Alchemist in sourcing medicinal herbs for the incense sticks from the territories acquired from Yi Gim.

For the sake of safety, the shrine was built in an isolated territory that could only be accessed with my authority.

The book had been incredibly clear on the dangers presented by purging what it referred to as mature Heart Demons. Not only a danger to Cultivators themself, the manifestations of the Heart Demons would lash out at any target that presented themselves.

Capable of taking just about any form someone could imagine, the Heart Demons would also possess just as much Cultivation and all of the Techniques of the Cultivator that created them.

I had no Techniques for the Heart Demons to make use of, but I had concerns that they would have just as much access to my Spells and other Abilities. Which, of course, the book couldn’t confirm or deny, given my situation was altogether unique.

While overseeing Gric’s construction of the shrine, I received a notification informing me of Lurr’s recruitment. I hadn’t doubted he would do so, but I felt a mild sense of relief after reading the confirmation. It was a vote of confidence I wasn’t sure I deserved, especially considering how Lurr had died.

Watching Gric carve the symbols into the jade floor, I was reminded of my poor stone carving skills. Even with a diagram to follow, and using the power of my mind, the results were pretty terrible. At least, they were when writing with characters I wasn’t familiar with.

I had no problems carving English words and sentences, and could even embellish things somewhat without compromising quality. However, using the English translations seemed weird in a way I couldn’t explain.

So far as I was aware, the language the words were written in didn’t matter. The fact that I possessed several diagrams for the same Inscription in two different languages was proof enough in that regard. However, there was a certain mysticism in using the ancient alphabet of a foreign culture. An invitation and expectation of nuance and meaning beyond the literal translation that added a certain value.

The words generally looked nicer as well, lending themselves more readily to Gric’s aesthetic tastes.

Of course, Gric could only carve the characters. He had no Chi with which to imbue them with power and bind them to a greater purpose.

Following the translated instructions as best I could manage, I spent the entire day draining my Chi into the dormant Arrays.

In every sense, the defensive Arrays would turn the shrine into a prison once they were activated. Intended to prevent corrupted Cultivators from running loose under the influence of their Heart Demons, the Arrays would not only prevent the Cultivator from escaping but would draw upon the Cultivator’s Chi to subsidise their activities.

In other circumstances, I would have asked for a volunteer to test the shrine and its Arrays before considering using it myself. However, my role in Lurr’s death still weighed heavily on my mind, and I couldn’t stand the thought of sending someone else to die for my own sake.

Of course, I had concerns that the Arrays might fail, but I had no other means of recourse. Waiting for one of my subjects to reach a sufficient level of strength and competency to create and power the Arrays on my behalf was unacceptable. I had no way of knowing how much the Heart Demons had influenced my mind already, and waiting would only see things grow worse.

I needed to make sure my mind was my own. Any degree of subversion or manipulation, no matter how minor, posed a threat to every man, woman and child under my protection.

Gric briefly disappeared and reappeared again moments later, holding a large box that smelled strongly of myrrh. A smell I only recognised thanks to visiting a high-budget Christmas nativity display hosted by a nearby church in my early teens.

Inspecting the contents of the box, I found more or less what I had expected. There was a large stack of thin wooden sticks coated in the dried granulated tree sap, approximating what I assumed were intended to serve as incense sticks. Provided they worked, I didn’t really care about their questionable appearance.

The fact that Jin had known what I wanted, and had succeeded to any meaningful degree at all was worth seeing him rewarded. Assuming I survived, I would do exactly that.

Without needing to be asked, Gric began setting the incense sticks into small holes set into the pillars ringing the central meditation circle of the shrine. Scorching the tips between his fingers to set them smouldering and gradually build a thin cloud of smoke within the shrine.

The ritual’s instructions had called for five sticks of incense for an adult. So Gric set out roughly forty-seven of them. He probably would have set out more, but there weren’t any left in the box. Given the stakes involved, I couldn’t blame Gric for erring on the side of caution.

Having fulfilled his duties, Gric left the shrine and assumed a vigil outside.

Settling into a meditative pose that matched the diagram, I took my time to try and clear my mind of unnecessary thoughts. However, the longer I breathed in the smoke, the more agitated I became.

A sudden surge of nausea left me clammy with sweat, dry retching and clutching at my gut.

No longer sitting, I was on my hands and knees, panting in pain as the nausea continued growing in intensity and urgency.

Without my consent, my stomach heaved and a torrent of thick foul black ichor spewed out over my teeth and lips and onto the floor. Unable to breathe, it was all I could manage to keep my arms straight and keep my face out of the slowly rising pool of foulness below me.

As the flow began to ebb, it left a deep raw pain in its wake. As if the foul ichor had ripped out the protective lining of my stomach and oesophagus.

Shakily pulling back and settling onto my haunches, I took several ragged gasps to try and stop my vision from spinning.

“Pathetic!” A familiar deep booming voice hissed contemptuously.

Raising my head I found myself staring at a large pair of muscular legs the size of tree trunks.

Without warning, a foot snapped out of the ichor covering the floor and smashed into my chin, sending me reeling backward and foundering in the foulness beneath me.

“Get up! Fight!” The voice demanded. “Stop cowering like a child!”

Searching for the source of the voice, the breath caught in my throat as my eyes settled on a face I knew only too well. I had seen it staring back at me thousands of times before. It was my own reflection.

Bristling with barely restrained rage, my reflection glared down at me with an expression of irreconcilable disgust and contempt. “It’s all your fault!” He growled angrily, “It's always been your fault!” My reflection clenched his right fist and lashed out at a nearby pillar, shattering the jade with effortless ease and sending splinters flying in all directions. “You’re a coward!” He snarled bitterly, stabbing an accusing finger down at my chest. “It’s your fault they died!”

Repressed memories were torn free of their restraints and flooded my mind. Broken bodies, discarded and left to rot in the sun. Impaled on pikes, limbs torn from their bodies, heads dashed apart...

The faces of children imprisoned underground. Their pale lifeless bodies stacked like firewood...

“YOUR FAULT!!!” The voice repeated. “YOU HAD THE STRENGTH TO SAVE THEM!!! AND YOU DIDN’T!!! YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD!!!”

Staggering to my feet, I faced my reflection and opened my mouth to argue, but the words refused to shape. Deep down, I knew he was right.

Too often, I had disguised my cowardice as indecision or caution when presented with danger.

In this world, I was a living tank. The number of enemies that had proven capable of harming me, let alone presenting a credible threat, could be counted on both hands.

If I had chosen to act sooner, how many lives could I have saved?

Without warning, the right fist of my reflection crashed into my left cheek and sent me stumbling into the wall.

“COWARD!!!” My reflection roared, raising both fists with violent intentions and stalking after me. “FIGHT!!!” He demanded, throwing a left hook at my head.

Barely raising my arm in time to block the blow, I staggered and nearly lost my footing as the ichor shifted beneath my feet.

“FIGHT!!! FIGHT!!! FIGHT!!!” My reflection repeated, throwing three more punches in rapid succession.

Rattled and off balance, I threw a blind punch and made a breakaway from the wall.

I caught a vicious kick to the gut instead and was thrown face-down into the ichor. Before I could regain my bearings, I was caught about the neck and dragged back out again.

“DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO RUN!!!” My reflection snarled, punctuating its point by smashing my head into the wall. “YOU DON’T HAVE THAT CHOICE ANYMORE!!!” He drove my head into the wall again and I felt the jade fracture. “YOU FIGHT!!! OR!!! YOU!!! DIE!!!” He punctuated each word by crashing my head into the wall over and over again, breaking through the jade with the final blow and releasing my neck.

Groggily pulling my head from the wall, I tried to get to my feet but staggered and nearly collapsed before grabbing hold of a nearby pillar for support.

“SO WEAK!!!” My reflection howled in frustration, tearing at his scalp with his clawed fingers and drawing blood. He drew back his fist and prepared to throw another punch.

Pushing away from the pillar, I narrowly avoided my reflection’s strike.

The pillar was not so lucky.

With every instinct in my body screaming for me to fight or run, I threw another punch and struck my reflection in the lower back.

Acknowledging the blow with a grunt, my reflection rounded on me with a savage grin on his lips. Without saying another word, he slammed his fist into my face.

I felt the cartilage in my nose give way and collapse under the force of the blow but took the hit as best as I could manage. Rolling his fist to one side, I boxed his left ear with a right hook.

I felt an immense degree of satisfaction as my reflection stumbled and collapsed into the ichor. Unfortunately, he was up and on his feet less than a second later, teeth bared in savage glee.

“YES!!! YES!!! FIGHT!!!” My reflection roared, spraying ichor in all directions as he launched himself forward and caught me about the waist.

I failed at his back with my fists and elbows but had the air crushed from my lungs as he slammed me into another wall.

Momentarily stunned, I continued striking at his back, but it didn’t seem to have any effect.

Pivoting hard, he lifted my feet off the ground and smashed the back of my head into another pillar. “YOU BETTER GET READY TO DIE!!!” My reflection roared with joy, releasing me and allowing the remaining momentum to send me face-first into yet another pillar.

The vision in my right eye turned blood red and was growing darker with every passing moment. Ignoring the pain, I forced myself to my feet. Reaching for my magic, I suppressed the urge to panic when my efforts came up empty.

“Uh uh uh!” My reflection waved his finger reproachfully. “This is between us!” He cackled, stretching his neck and releasing an unhealthy crunching cracking sound. “And if you want to beat me, you better be ready to kill!” He snarled with a demented smile and lunged for another attack.

Broken, bruised and abused, I felt a fresh wave of anger flood new strength throughout my body. With a savage snarl on my lips, I ducked under my reflection’s lunging strike and hammered my left fist into his right kidney.

Still smiling, my reflection staggered, “YESSSS!!!” He howled.

Refusing to lose the initiative, and unable to stop myself even if I wanted to, Adrenaline drove me forward. I threw one punch after another in rapid succession, not even taking time to aim.

Driving my reflection to the ground, I screamed in fury and hammered his chest like a savage ape. With each blow, I felt the blood in my veins burn hotter and push away the pain.

All the while, my reflection threw punches of his own, smiling and laughing as they bounced ineffectually off my shoulders and brow.

I could feel his ribs beginning to give out, cracking and snapping, being driven into his lungs and heart, but I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t stop.

As the blood haze lifted and the adrenaline began to ebb, I slowly regained control and bore witness to what I had done.

The torso of my reflection had been reduced to a mangled bloody mess, but he was somehow still alive.

“Fin...Ish...It!...” My reflection demanded, choking on his blood with each syllable. Still smiling all the while.

Revolted by my own actions, I hesitated.

“Be...Free!...” My reflection insisted, discharging another mouthful of blood in the process.

Reaching out with my right hand, I wrapped my fingers around his throat and began to squeeze.

“That’s...It!...” My reflection gasped. “No...No...Merssss-” With a smile on his bloody lips, the last flickering embers in his eyes died out and he grew limp.

I withdrew my hand and stared at it as if it were a poisonous snake. I hadn’t tightened my grip enough to cut off the blood flow, but I had still gone further than I had thought myself capable of. I had shown I was capable of it.

The body of my reflection dissolved beneath me, collapsing into the ichor covering the floor.

Ever so slowly, the ichor seeped through the jade floor and disappeared, leaving me utterly alone within the walls of the shrine.

After staring at the floor for what felt like hours I gingerly raised my head and was surprised to find that the interior of the shrine was intact. The pillars and walls damaged during the battle with my reflection were pristine and unmarked.

Stiffly rising to my feet and intending to investigate further, I nearly collapsed upon realising all of my injuries were gone as well.

Over several minutes, I slowly came to realise that everything I had experienced was probably just a hallucination. However, despite the lingering feelings of revulsion, I also felt more at ease. Which was difficult to reconcile, given the root cause for both states of being.

Leaving the shrine, I spared a few moments to reflect upon what had happened.

The book containing the ritual had been infuriatingly vague regarding the form the Heart Demons would take. However, the absence of the irreconcilable irritation and anger that had been building within my mind was convincing proof all on its own.

“It is done, my Tyrant?” Gric asked reservedly, perhaps having witnessed events through reading my mind.

“It is,” I replied quietly. “At least, for now.”

I would need to undertake regular meditation from now on. Unfortunately, I had no way of knowing how severe any future experiences would be in comparison. I would just have to wait and see.

“I want to see them.” I decided, postponing my return home so I could be certain I was fully in control. “Where are they?”

“The refugees are waiting in the foothold,” Gric replied obediently, no doubt having read my mind and anticipated the question in advance. “The Spirit waits alongside them,” he added with marked disdain.

“And my warriors?” I asked, choosing to ignore Gric’s enmity.

“Training against the wild monsters beyond the walls, my Tyrant,” Gric rolled his shoulders and looked uncomfortable.

“What is it?” I pressed, knowing that something had to be on his mind.

“I wish to lead an expedition,” Gric replied quietly. “To extend an offer of vassalage and protection to Talia’s people.”

Gric’s request caught me off guard and it took a few moments for me to adjust my thinking. “Her people are not Enslaved?”

“Many are,” Gric conceded, “However, after interviewing those you have liberated, I am confident that the majority of her people are either dead or engaged in a generational siege.”

I chose to ignore Gric’s indifference toward the two radically different states of being. “So, you know where they are then?”

Gric paused and considered the question for several seconds. “I know where they were,” he replied confidently.

“Which Labyrinth and floor?” I pressed, suspecting Gric was being altogether too literal in his answer.

“I am uncertain,” Gric admitted honestly. “However, the survival of Talia’s people, combined with knowledge of their Enslavement suggests it cannot be greater than the fiftieth floor.”

I sighed and had to remind myself that Gric had a radically different perception of danger than a regular person would have. Stronger enemies were seen as opportunities for Daemons, not danger. “Who do you intend on taking as part of your expedition?” I decided to just go with it and try to assess his plan on overall merit.

“I shall suffice,” Gric replied with absolute confidence. “I will Summon assistance if needed, but will cover more ground and without attracting notice if I am alone.”

I had to admit, he had a point.

“What will you do if you find them and they don’t want to leave?” I asked curiously.

Gric stared up at me with grim determination. “I will convince them.” His expression softened nearly imperceptibly. “A future beneath your rule is the only logical choice. An opportunity to live and grow, free of predation.” Gric paused and his expression hardened again. “I will convince them,” he repeated with absolute confidence.

“You have my permission.” I decided to place my trust in Gric. Despite his overt authoritarianism, I knew Gric wouldn’t cross certain lines without cause to do so.

In many respects, this would serve as a test. Not only of Gric’s ability to broker alliances but to prove my trust was well placed.

Despite his evident desire to leave on his expedition, Gric decided to accompany me back to the Hurst Labyrinth.

A reminder of his considerable restraint. Or at least, his ability to prioritise.

Using a Dimensional Breach, we arrived just outside of the Foothold gate.

To their credit, my thunder warriors stationed at the gate had their weapons readied and prepared to strike the moment I passed through the Breach. Better they were prepared than not.

The entirety of the Foothold behind them had been claimed by the refugees. Men, women and children took shelter wherever they could find it.

It was impossible not to recognise the fear and uncertainty on their faces, even if they were covered in fur.

Human in almost every respect, the refugees had large feline eyes, ears and tails as well as long teeth and hooked claws.

Hundreds of eyes watched my every movement, no doubt expecting trouble.

The tribe’s warriors, such as they were, formed a screening wall on either side of the street, serving as a living barrier. Many carried spears, although a handful also carried several javelins on their backs.

Looking to the rooftops, I wasn’t at all surprised to find a scattering of archers. However, despite their bows being strung, not a single one of them had an arrow ready at hand.

It was a smart play. Ensuring a show of force without the risks of overt provocation.

Even without my armour, I was confident that their spears, arrows and javelins wouldn’t do any good. My thick skin had been tested against sharpened steel and found them wanting. I had little to fear from mundane stone and wood.

A large tent made from Beast hides had been erected in the clearing near the portal, and a large if somewhat crude, wooden totem resembling a large predatory cat lay within.

A small cadre of the cat-people sat around the totem, none of which looked over twelve years old. I could only assume they were the tribe’s Apprentice Shamans. However, as I drew closer, I realised none of the young teens were aware of the Spirit in their midst.

Such as it was, the distinction didn’t seem like it would matter much longer. Just as Ophelia and Gric had been wounded, the Spirit was utterly savaged.

Black claw marks stained its hide and spectral flesh, and with each passing moment, the Spirit’s radiance grew dimmer and dimmer.

Without looking, I could feel Gric’s sense of smug satisfaction.

A wizened old woman was escorted out of the crowd by a pair of older female warriors. She spoke with a croaking gasp as if struggling for every breath. She was passionate and it became obvious that she was asking for my help. Even without understanding a single word she was saying, I could guess at her intentions.

“The tribe elder is begging for your protection, my Tyrant,” Gric paraphrased, almost certainly reading her mind to get at the message directly.

“I had assumed as much, but thank you Gric,” I replied appreciatively. There was no cause to be rude, he was just being helpful.

The Spirit weakly rose to its feet and began tottering towards us.

The elderly cat-woman followed my gaze and stared at the open ground in confusion, unable to see the guardian of their tribe drawing closer.

I recalled Gric and Sebet’s outrage and remembered the anger I felt upon learning that the Spirit had abandoned the fight.

Looking at the Spirit now, I felt nothing but pity. I knew better now and without the anger clouding my mind, I could clearly see that the Spirit had barely escaped the encounter intact.

The Spirit came up short, and with visible effort, settled on its haunches and craned its neck to try and meet my gaze.

“You want me to protect our people,” I guessed, testing the Spirit’s character.

“I do...” The Spirit replied in a hoarse whisper, its words marked by pain.

“There are no Shamans left in your tribe?” I pressed, wanting to confirm my suspicions.

“None...remain...” The Spirit echoed, slumping its shoulders in defeat. “Apprentices...Too young...” IT slowly nodded its head toward the teens meditating before the totem.

I squatted down and looked the Spirit straight in the eyes. “You abandoned my team,” I accused but withheld any semblance of malice.

“I...did...” The Spirit replied truthfully. “I regret...this...”

“Hindsight’s a bitch,” I agreed grimly and then let out a sigh. “You said you carry your people's history with you,” I prompted.

The Spirit stiffly nodded its head. It had begun to tremble and was no doubt in considerable pain.

I reached out and rested my hand on the Spirit’s back. “I’m not a cruel person,” I explained patiently, resisting the urge to grimace as I began drawing the Death energy out of the Spirit’s wounds. “I can understand why you bailed when you did, and if our places were reversed, maybe I would have done the same.”

The Spirit stiffened beneath my touch, its incorporeal body gaining something approximating a physical form.

“You? You are...helping me?...” The Spirit stared at its wounds in surprise.

The cat people cried out in surprise and alarm, spreading panic like wildfire.

Whatever I was doing appeared to have made the Spirit visible to those without spirit sight.

The withered old woman raised her arms high, with no small degree of effort and made a keening, wordless cry.

As one, the tribe fell silent.

The old woman, with the assistance of her two helpers, fell to her knees and bowed before the Spirit.

“The children...They...see me?” The Spirit was as surprised as I was.

Not sure what to say, I decided to just say nothing.

***** Gric ~ Tim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Sanctuary *****

With the Tyrant’s business concluded, Gric briefly returned to Sanctuary just long enough to see Talia settled into her evening routine before leaving in pursuit of her family.

Despite the Tyrant’s concerns with relying on borrowed memories to provide reference points for the Dimension Breach Spell, Gric knew from experience that the Spell would work or fail outright.

Concentrating on Talia’s memory of the stone basement beneath the Foothold, Gric began feeding his MP to fuel the Spell. Although capable of distancing himself from the emotions attached to Talia’s memories, Gric felt that to do so would be akin to a betrayal of her trust.

As such, Gric allowed Talia’s fear and despair to pass through his mind without interference. Using it to focus his resolve.

Expending nearly half of his maximum MP to establish the Spatial Breach, Gric felt a pang of hesitation. However, it passed almost as quickly as it had arrived.

If the Tyrant needed him, Gric was certain the Tyrant would just Summon him.

Passing through the Breach, Gric was somewhat surprised to find signs of somewhat recent conflict.

Dried blood stained the walls, and the doors to iron cages were torn off of their hinges.

Following the blood trails upstairs, Gric concluded that several persons had been dragged back up the stairs after the conflict. However, it was unclear whose side they had been on.

Scratching a sample of the dried blood off the stone wall with one of his claws, Gric pressed the dried blood against his tongue and compared it to the records stored in his brain.

After a few seconds of analysis and comparison, Gric was certain the blood was human. The revelation was accompanied by a certain degree of subconscious approval that Gric found somewhat confusing.

While he would prefer events unfolded in such a way that Variants were not harmed, the visceral sense of satisfaction attached to learning that humans had been injured was something else.

Studying his thought processes, Gric concluded that his coupling with Talia had generated a not insignificant bias against the humans of the outside world.

Setting his personal discoveries aside, Gric slowly ascended the stairs and spared a moment to appreciate the broken door hanging off a single mangled hinge. The room beyond the door had more dried blood. Except this time the majority was staining the walls rather than the floor.

Investigating the bloodstains, Gric found arrowheads and broken shafts stuck in the walls. Tearing apart a small section of a wall to withdraw an arrowhead, Gric was intrigued to find the arrowhead was carved from hardened bone.

Pocketing the arrowhead, Gric left the building and found himself staring at the blackened remains of the Foothold walls. Several of the buildings bore scorch marks and had lost their wooden roofs, but the foothold’s wall had been burned to the ground.

Casting his consciousness outward, Gric felt a dozen lesser minds in his general vicinity, but they belonged to wild Beasts and were of little interest.

Gric spared a few seconds to create a Ward and then began retracing the steps of Talia’s Enslavement. As her memories of the event were...scattered and not otherwise entirely reliable, Gric expected to backtrack several times during his pursuit.

Walking into the dark underbrush of the surrounding forest, Gric discovered trace amounts of human blood that seemed to more or less follow his intended course. However, after following the trail for the better part of three hours, the paths diverged.

Presented with a choice, Gric decided to follow the blood. If Talia’s people were alive, and still fighting, then it stood to reason that they would be the ones taking the humans prisoner.

A mere handful of minutes after following his new path, Gric became aware of a small group of humanoid beings of higher intelligence watching him from a distance. Cloaked and hidden as they were, Gric could not make out their Species but was otherwise certain they weren’t human.

They were far too sure of their movements and intimately familiar with the terrain. A lesser being wouldn’t have noticed them at all.

Unfortunately, his stalkers also possessed abnormally robust mental defences. So any attempt at rifling through their memories would alert them to his presence within their minds.

Instead, Gric decided to provoke a confrontation by walking slower and feigning fatigue.

Just as he had expected, his shadows began closing the distance between them.

Suppressing his instincts, Gric allowed the fast-moving projectile to race between his legs and strike the ground in front of his feet.

interpreting the arrow as a form of warning, Gric came to a stop and waited for his pursuers to reveal themselves.

Sure enough, three cloaked and hooded figures emerged from the shadows of the surrounding forest, weapons drawn and prepared to fight

Although Gric’s current appearance somewhat resembles several of the Elven SubSpecies, he knew that a true member of the Species wouldn’t be fooled. As such, he made no attempts at passing himself off as someone he was not.

Instead, Gric opted for a more direct approach. “I carry no weapons, and I hold no ill intent,” he stated calmly in the tongue of Talia’s people.

The cloaked figures froze, turning their hoods slightly to glance at one another.

“I seek the kin of Talia, daughter of Fulwin and Tamera,” Gric continued, seeing no point in wasting further time.

Two of the figures looked to the third, waiting for some form of decision.

“You will come with us,” the figure commanded darkly, his voice ringing with authority and a commanding tone that was used to being obeyed.

“I will go with you,” Gric agreed amiably, putting up no resistance as his wrists were bound with hide cords. Without even testing the bonds, he knew he could tear them apart without difficulty.

Escorted by the cloaked figures, Gric eventually entered the outskirts of a fortified town. The immense earthworks and bristling rows of palisades would have intimidated any human that laid their eyes upon them. However, Gric was not particularly impressed.

The treeborn architecture and intricate web of rope bridges were another matter entirely.

More sophisticated than many of the tribes and clans that had sworn loyalty to the Tyrant, the Elves of this village appeared to have adopted human technologies and crafting methods. There were small details here and there, artistic embellishments such as the human bone wind chimes and the like. However, the planks that formed the core building material of the town were far too uniform in size and shape.

Using his keen sense of hearing, it didn’t take Gric long to determine that one of the few buildings located on the ground, served as the town’s sawmill, and another as its prison.

Pressed into the prison, Gric could now see what had befallen the prisoners taken from the Foothold.

Five men and two women were locked away in private cells. Broken, beaten and starving, they stared vacantly at the walls of the prison. Flinching and cowering in fear as their jailors passed them by, the prisoners otherwise fell into a catatonic stupor in their absence.

Even without reading their minds, Gric could guess at the reason for their imprisonment. Many of Sanctuary’s residents had envisioned exacting vengeance on their former masters. Returning every crime upon their heads in kind.

It was not a dream harboured solely by the Variants either. Human Slaves harboured just as much resentment for their former Masters.

Gric’s connection with Talia’s memories left him with conflicted feelings on the subject. He understood the primal need to hurt those that had hurt you, to make them suffer. However, the reality of doing so ran contrary to what the Tyrant expected of him.

Gric was allowed to pass judgement upon the guilty, expected to do so even. It was one of his sworn mandates. But this wanton sadism was befitting of a depraved mind and irredeemably demented soul. It was why such fates were entrusted to Sebet.

After searching each prisoner’s mind just long enough to confirm their guilt, Gric sent their already failing bodies into cardiac arrest.

Guards posted outside of the prison were alarmed and angry, but, of course, had no way of knowing Gric was responsible. Even so, they glared at him with their dark almond-shaped eyes and appeared quite content with levelling blame at his feet regardless of a lack of evidence.

Gric shrugged, it didn’t matter. He had far more pressing concerns on his mind.

The actions of this tribe, or at least a number of its members, made them criminals according to the Tyrant’s laws. Recruiting them would require them to face judgement under those same laws, defying part of the reason for Gric seeking them out in the first place.

At best, the Tyrant would see the offenders sent to Tartarus or Acheron, depending on the severity of their crimes and the leniency in his heart. He was not without mercy and understood things in a way Gric still struggled to grasp. But being with Talia had bridged that gap in understanding considerably.

There was a third alternative for relocation, but Gric was not yet certain the tribe deserved it. Isolation. There were no guarantees that the entire tribe would pass initial judgement. However, provided their society had not devolved as a consequence of wantonly indulging their vengeance, the majority would live. Perhaps even the entire tribe. But Gric doubted it.

There were always predators hiding amongst the prey. Always.

Worming his way into the minds of his guards, Gric was proven right. The guard had literally betrayed his people, orchestrating events to deliver three former rivals into the arms of the human Slavers so he could make advances on a female who had no interest in him. When she spurned his affections, he saw her captured as well.

Confused that such sloppy methodology would go unnoticed, Gric probed deeper and discovered the cause. His mother sat on their tribe’s ruling council and had used her influence to redirect blame elsewhere.

Another youth had been banished in the guard’s place, a young male with a familiar face.

Although badly scarred and disfigured, the resemblance was such that Gric was almost certain the Elf named Keith was the same youth from the guard’s memories.

Gric had never had cause to investigate Keith’s background in any meaningful degree of depth before. But it was certainly something he intended to rectify upon his return to Sanctuary.

In the meantime, however...

Gric brought the full weight of his consciousness to bear on the guard’s mind.

Like an overripe fruit left to rot in the sun, the guard’s mind collapsed on contact, offering no resistance as Gric forcibly exerted control over his body. Lacking any semblance of finesse, the act would leave the guard a gibbering invalid once Gric released his hold.

Such was Gric’s intent.

“Hrather? Are you alright?” The other guard asked with mounting concern. “Did you catch something from those Beasts?”

Puppeteering Hrather’s body from within, Gric shook his head. “No...No, I didn’t sleep well is all.”

“You sure?” The other guard asked, not convinced by Gric’s deflection.

“Maybe I should go see the healer,” Gric suggested, using the other guard’s concern to his advantage.

The guard nodded encouragingly, “Just send Jasiel and Fenrith down to take your place, I can watch the outsider well enough on my own till they arrive.”

Gric patted the other guard’s shoulder in passing to show his thanks. “I will remember this favour.” His words had the expected effect, causing the other guard’s eyes to flash in greedily.

Leaving the prison behind, Gric ascended a large rope ladder and passed four warriors stationed at the top without challenge.

Using Hrather’s memories to guide him, Gric puppeted Hrather through the winding walkways of the town and to the ruling council’s chambers.

After passing unchallenged up to this point, Gric progress was abruptly ended as four guards stationed outside of the council chambers barred his way.

“You know the rules, Hrather!” The lead guard all but spat with naked disdain, “No entry while the elders are in seclusion!”

Feigning insult, Gric narrowed Hrather’s eyes and bared his teeth in anger. “I have important information for the elders!” He hissed heatedly, “News relating to the outsider!”

The head guard crossed his arms defiantly and shrugged. “Then you tell them AFTER they have ended their seclusion.”

Gric admired the older male’s commitment to duty, and his disdain for Hrather was undoubtedly another sign of his discerning character. Unfortunately, Gric had places to be. “The outsider claims to have news of others who were lost to the humans!”

The head guard made no attempts at hiding his doubts as he searched Hrather’s face for signs of deceit. “This is true?” He asked warily.

Gric had Hrather nod.

“I will inform the council of this development...” The head guard announced grimly. “Do, not, move.” He punctuated each word by jabbing Hrather’s chest just hard enough to make it hurt.

Without saying another word, the head guard passed through the reinforced doors, making sure to close them behind himself, and disappeared.

Of course, Gric could still sense his presence on the other side, and the elder council besides, but he could not hear what was said.

The head guard returned a few minutes later and escorted Hrather into the council chambers.

Such as they were, it amounted to a large room with comfortable chairs occupied by the tribe’s elders. Although it appears the title of elder was used more loosely within this tribe than the others Gric had previously encountered.

Hrather’s mother, who appeared middle-aged by human and most other Species standards, occupied a seat close to the primary position amongst the gathered elders. She seemed both elated and deeply concerned by her son’s presence and was no doubt looking for means to leverage events to her advantage.

Gric doubted she would manage such a feat.

The prime elder considered Hrather with barely veiled disdain. “We have discussed the outsider at length, including his claims regarding the taken-” He motioned expansively toward the other elders. “-and what troubles us is the timing of his arrival.”

Several elders nodded in firm agreement.

Hrather’s mother was not amongst them.

“Surely you can understand our concern that this outsider is just another taken turned traitor against our people,” it wasn’t a question, but a thinly veiled accusation. Making it clear that the prime elder suspected Hrather’s sins. “And now you press the outsider’s claims on his behalf-”

“Elder Faras, surely you are not accusing MY SON of aiding our enemies?” Hrather’s mother interjected venomously. “There are few who have slain more human filth than he.”

The prime elder, Faras, glared at Hrather’s mother with naked fury, his wrinkled hands tightening on the arms of his chair to the point his hands turned snow white.

“Or do you possess information you have kept secret from this council?” Hrather’s mother needled maliciously. “Perhaps you have some evidence of a crime?”

The prime elder said nothing.

“By all means, if you have such information, we should all hear it,” Hrather’s mother pressed, gloating over her rival. “Of course, this council has heard your baseless claims before, and without evidence, we all see those claims for what they are. Feeble attempts at desperately clinging to your position as-”

“I have evidence,” Gric interjected coldly, making no attempts at all to conceal his true voice.

As one, the elders' eyes settled on him in disbelief.

“Hrather, son of Hroth and Narcina, has negotiated with Slavers and delivered nine of his tribe into Slavery to satiate his ego.” Gric stared back at the council through Hrather’s eyes. “With the assistance of his mother-” Gric pointed to Hrather’s mother, redirecting all eyes in the room, “-Hrather covered his tracks and avoided judgement if not suspicion. For his crimes against a citizen of Sanctuary, I will carry out the sentence befitting the entirety of his crimes.”

Before the elders or the head guard could react, Gric sent Hrather into cardiac arrest and withdrew himself from the criminal’s mind.

Gathering his MP, Gric opened a Breach and entered the council chambers directly.

In the short time that had passed in his absence, Hrather’s mother had abandoned her seat and was screaming incoherently while desperately reaching for the fallen body of her son while the head guard held her hard against the floor.

With a single thought, Gric rendered her unconscious.

The head guard abandoned Horther’s mother but was visibly conflicted in doing so. No doubt uncertain how great a threat Gric truly represented to the assembled elders, and whether Hrather’s mother could be left unattended while he intercepted said threat.

Gric decided to take the first steps and introduce himself. “I am Gric of Sanctuary, and I have travelled a great distance to seek the kin of my Bonded lifemate, Talia, daughter of Fulwin and Tamera. And to present an offer of protection for your people.”

Gric couldn’t help but notice as everyone present briefly looked down at the corpse and unconscious woman on the floor, and resisted the urge to shrug indifferently. He knew that once they took the time to process what had happened, they would come to realise the enormity of the favour he had done for them.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 72 - Sorcery and Spellcraft - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 72 - Sorcery and Spellcraft - Part Two

The Foothold was surrounded by rolling hills and large bushes with temperate woodlands at irregular intervals. Unsurprisingly, the Foothold itself was abandoned. However, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I was drawn toward flickering lights in the distant woodlands.

“They flee the enemy!” Wisp rasped in parting, born aloft and propelled forward as the back of his robes sprouted ephemeral feathered wings of shadow.

Without saying a word, Ophelia raced through the air behind him, sword drawn and blazing with bright amber light.

Gric bowed his back and hissed in pain. In a spray of gore, leathery bat-like wings erupted from the dense musculature below his shoulders. Crouching low, Gric leapt thirty feet into the air and unfurled his wings, shedding torn skin and spattering blood into the cold night air that disintegrated almost as quickly as it lost contact with his body. <I will go ahead, my Tyrant!> With a powerful stroke of his wings, Gric began racing after Ophelia and Wisp.

“So dramatic...” Sebet snickered, already hovering a dozen feet off of the ground, born aloft by wings nearly identical to Gric’s in all but colouration and membrane density. Without saying another word, Sebet raced away to join the others.

“Get the others,” I ordered.

Taking only a moment to slam his fist against his breastplate, the Bodyguard leapt back through the portal.

“Weapon,” I commanded, holding out my hand expectantly.

The closest of my two remaining Bodyguards immediately surrendered his axe.

After pulling off the gauntlet of my free hand by squeezing it in my armpit, I gripped the blade of the axe and sawed it into my skin just deep enough to draw blood. Gathering my MP, I cast an Empowered Ward Spell on the axe.

“You will take the others and see the refugees to safety,” I ordered, returning the axe.

The thunder warrior nodded grimly, his face hidden behind his helmet but body tense with anticipation.

I turned to the other Bodyguard, “You’re with me.”

Lurr nodded, moving his grip up the shaft of the axe and holding it just below the head with one hand.

Replacing the gauntlet, I took a moment to ready myself and then began lumbering forward. Fighting against gravity, I slowly increased my speed, gaining momentum.

Too large for the stone arch of the gate, I crashed into it and then through it, too dense to be denied with so much built-up momentum and mass.

Lurr followed a few paces behind and on my left, a giant of an Orc and seemingly none the worse for the weight imposed by his stone armour.

“Ignore the Beasts!” I commanded, “We go through them!”

A large-scale skinned cat leapt out of a nearby bush, striking my right thigh. Its hooked claws scraped against the stone plates, finding no purchase and becoming blunted for the attempt. Narrowly avoiding being crushed underfoot, the Beast roared in fury and began to give chase.

Two more of the large felines dashed out of another cluster of bushes ahead of us.

The first of the pair leapt at Lurr. However, without breaking stride, Lur jumped, causing the scaled feline to pass harmlessly through the open air.

The second feline slammed into my abdomen and raked its hind claws while desperately clinging to the leather straps of my belt. All these while being battered by my thighs.

Snatching at the feline, I only managed a partial grip on one of its hind legs due to a lack of friction caused by the Beast’s scales. Aware that I probably wouldn’t get a better grip if I tried again, I yanked at the Beast’s leg, pulling it free of my belt and tossing it to the side.

Confident that I had caused the Beast at least some degree of movement-impairing injury, I put the Beast out of my mind.

Another feline nearly blindsided Lurr, causing him to stumble and begin to fall as he barely managed to dodge its claws.

On instinct, I reached out to help him, knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to arrest my gathered momentum in time.

Then something strange happened. I felt my Chi leave my body and latch onto Lurr’s armour.

Instead of tumbling into the dirt, Lurr continued falling forward. Body locked in an awkward stumbling pose, the distance between us remained the same.

Confused and still focused on keeping my own footing, it took me a few moments to realise what I was doing.

Dividing my focus as best as I could, I drew Lur closer and righted his body.

I could feel the pressure of his muscles straining against my hold on his armour, and I did my best to give ground without surrendering control entirely. Unsure if the loss of control would result in Lurr tumbling to the ground anew.

More Beasts began sprinting across the hillside, howling and shrieking as competing Species joined the hunt.

With my Chi already invested in Lurr’s armour and aware that the Chi wouldn’t deteriorate, I decided to move Lurr higher off the ground and float along behind me instead.

If we were not in immediate danger, I would have attempted flying in such a manner myself.

Crashing thunder echoed across the hills behind us, signalling the arrival of the remaining thunder warriors and their advance toward the refugees.

Reminded of the refugees, I gradually altered course to avoid leading the Beasts directly toward them.

The others were quickly disappearing into the distance, so I had to rely near-entirely on my connection as their Summoner to provide directions.

Now running through the woodlands, my speed slowed as I was forced to make at least some effort to avoid the larger trees. Stamina flagging, I used Lesser Summon Servant to Summon a Kobold to benefit from its Synergies, consuming the mana I had regained in the interim.

Without a will of its own, the small scaly Kobold held itself in place behind my neck. Clutching at the rim of my breastplate and out of harm’s way.

Bolstered against Fatigue and Exhaustion, I redoubled my efforts.

I could feel that the advance force had begun losing mana in earnest, signalling the beginning of the battle. As Summons, every action they took exacted a toll on the mana provided to them by their Summoner and the Spell used to Summon them

It came as no surprise that Ophelia’s projection was absolutely haemorrhaging mana. However, what did surprise me was the sudden termination of Sebet’s projection.

Sebet’s projection had not died, I was certain of that. She had somehow depleted her mana in one go, ending the Summon.

Confused, I continued running through the woods.

I could feel that I was growing closer, but the unfamiliar terrain made it difficult to tell how much ground I had actually covered.

The crashing thunder was growing fainter and less frequent. I could only hope it was because my thunder warriors and the refugees were getting closer to the portal.

It took me a while to notice, but the beasts that had been chasing us were gone and the woods were empty.

An inhuman shriek was carried on the wind and set my teeth on edge.

We were close.

A bright flash of amber light cast long shadows in the surrounding woods and was followed by another shriek.

Ophelia’s projection, already low on mana, had died.

Crashing through one final wall of branches, I stumbled into a blackened smouldering crater. Easily over a hundred feet in diameter, the blackened earth and smouldering trees explained why Sebet’s projection had terminated so abruptly.

Near the centre of the crater, Wisp and Gric were harrying a twisted giant monstrosity.

Easily twenty feet tall, the thing was close to my own height. However, where my body was thick and broad, its limbs and torso were gnarled and emaciated. Which only served to make the jagged broken angles of its bones all the more pronounced and grotesque.

Despite its deformities, the thing was impossibly agile and quick. Lashing out at Gric and Wisp with broken claws and barely coming up short.

Littered with wounds, the thing paid them no mind, fighting with feverish ferocity.

“STAY STILL!!!” The thing shrieked, desperately snatching at Gric’s legs. Only to be denied and wail in fury as Gric kicked at one of the thing's fingers, breaking the digit and very nearly tearing it free of the thing’s knuckle. However, in less than a second, the finger snapped back into alignment. Still torn but somehow unaffected by the injury.

I lowered Lurr to the ground and retrieved my invested Chi.

I was still low on MP but was now able to begin replenishing it in earnest since I was no longer physically exerting myself.

Unsure how we were meant to kill a Spirit, I drew the stone blades from my belt and invested them with as much Chi as I could manage.

Even if the blades couldn’t harm the Awakened Spirit, there had to be a limit to how much damage the body it was possessing could handle.

Throwing the blades in rapid succession, I divided my focus between increasing the speed and force of their rotation and guiding them toward their intended target.

For their part, Gric and Wisp made no changes to their behaviour and continued to bait the thing into chasing them, remaining just out of its reach.

Striking from opposite directions, the stone blades scythed effortlessly through the thing’s midsection, temporarily splitting it into three separate pieces. Just like before, the pieces quickly snapped back into alignment but remained unhealed. However, they appeared less cohesive than they otherwise should have been. Assuming the separated finger represented what was the norm for its Ability.

Having gotten the attention of the other Awakened, I felt a pressure build in my mind as its cold black eyes stared hungrily at me from across the expanse of the crater. Familiar with the aura of fear it was generating, I held firm and pushed back.

The corpse-body of the Awakened flinched, recoiling backwards as if I had struck it in the face. Needle-like teeth bared in its impossibly wide mouth, the Awakened snarled and hissed in pain. “YOU!!! I WILL EAT!!!” The Awakened shrieked, leaping forward and halving the distance between us almost instantly.

Holding my ground, I willed the Chi-infused stone blades to return.

The ground before my feet erupted in a shower of dirt and a barbed stone spear lanced through the corpse-thing’s mouth and continued through the back of its skull.

At the exact same moment, Gric’s projection hurled a bolt of fire at the back of the thing’s head and disappeared.

Striking just as the back of the thing’s skull burst open, the bolt of fire entered the thing’s head and exploded.

Momentum temporarily arrested by the stone spear, the Awakened within barely had time to realise what had happened before the brain of its host erupted in flames.

My stone blades tore through the thing’s chest, sending chunks of rotting putrified flesh and bone flying through the air.

Seemingly unable to act, the thing just stood there, limbs twitching and spasming.

Until this moment, Wisp’s reserve of MP had remained relatively untouched. That changed as Wisp drew open his robes and revealed the withered husk of his borrowed body.

Emaciated beyond gender and little more than silver-white flesh skin stretched over the bones beneath, a pale white flame burned in his eyes and exposed chest cavity. With each passing moment, the flames within him grew brighter, drawing trails of oily black smoke off of the stolen body of the Awakened.

The damaged sections of the corpse-thing’s body began losing their cohesion and slowly fell out of alignment.

Without furious vigour, I set the stone blades to work. Hewing through the corpse-thing with vicious purpose.

Still alight, the corpse-thing began to struggle, slapping at the stone spear impaled in its head. Losing flesh to the thorn-like barbs adorning its length, the thing was seemingly beyond caring.

Before I could react, the thing shattered the spear and fell backwards, its skull was still impaled but it was otherwise free.

Burning MP, I attempted to impale it anew by using the nearby stones. However, the thing leapt clear with unnatural speed, contorting its body with sickening and otherwise impossible flexibility.

I decided to change tactics.

Expending another chunk of MP, which left me dangerously low once more, I Summoned a second projection of Wisp.

Uttering an Unearthly wail, the second projection readied his scythe and charged.

For all its fearlessness up until this point, the corpse-thing baulked at the second projection’s approach.

Critically low on mana, I nearly fell to my knees but managed to arrest my descent with the help of a nearby tree and Lurr’s assistance.

Resisting the urge to remove my helmet and eat, I grit my teeth and pushed through the Mana Fatigue.

“You must leave, Tyrant,” Lurr demanded grimly. “Clan comes first!” He pulled on my arm, trying to draw me back the way we had come.

“I can’t...” I hissed angrily. “I won't!” I yanked my arm free and pointed at the corpse-thing doing battle against Wisp’s projections. “I won’t let that thing run loose any longer! I refuse to let it hurt anyone else!”

Lurr stared up at me silently for several moments and then turned back toward the battle without saying a word. The weight of his silence somehow carried both condemnation and admiration in equal measure. As my Bodyguard, he held Oaths that now came at odds with one another. To obey my commands, and to safeguard my life, even at the expense of his own.

I had forced him into an impossible position, and I knew it. To prosecute one, was to neglect the other.

With Wisp’s second projection taking the offensive so aggressively and my current level of concentration lacking, I withdrew my stone blades from the fight.

Sensing a sudden concentration of mana nearby, my eyes were drawn to the sky above the crater.

A ragged black tear blotted out the stars and three familiar figures appeared shortly afterwards.

Sword and wings blazing with amber light, armed with a divine blade, Ophelia descended like a righteous meteor.

Dodging Ophelia’s surprise attack, the corpse-thing lost its entire right arm at the shoulder.

Completely disconnected from the main body, the limb shrivelled and turned to dust, releasing more of the oily smoke which was promptly devoured by Wisp’s first projection.

Releasing an ear-bleeding shriek, the corpse-thing still hadn’t finished dodging Ophelia’s attack when it was struck by Sebet’s surprise attack.

White-hot flames incinerated the corpse-thing’s midsection, turning it to ash and releasing more smoke.

Collapsing in on itself to try and maintain some sort of physical connectivity, the corpse-thing was unprepared for Wisp’s follow-up attack, losing its right leg below the knee.

Instead of joining the fight, Gric fell back to my side. It took me a few moments to realise it, but his right arm was hanging limp at his side. Covered by his armour, I had no way of seeing what was wrong, and his Group Status information showed he should be at full HP.

“I am fine, my Tyrant,” Gric stated somewhat defensively. “I simply require time to recover.”

A sudden pressure on my mind drove the curiosity from my thoughts.

Blinking my eyes back into focus, I found Wisp’s first projection was now gone and the second had taken to the sky to take his place.

“PURGE THE UNCLEAN!!!” Ophelia howled, lopping off the corpse-thing’s remaining forearm at the elbow and following through its chest, leaving a trail of amber flames in the wake of her blade.

Crippled and barely holding itself together, the corpse-thing abruptly collapsed. However, a towering shadow remained.

The edges of the shadow continued shedding oily smoke just as the corpse-thing had before it. Only now it was from every inch of its body.

Narrowly avoiding Ohelia’s sword, the shadow fled, putting as much distance between itself and Wisp as possible. Incidentally sending it directly toward me.

“Protect the Tyrant!” Gric roared, gathering his mana and charging toward the rapidly approaching shadow. Gric fired several Fire Lances point blank into the centre mass of its incorporeal body.

Too close to dodge, half of the shadow’s body was incinerated on the spot. Unfortunately, shedding the greater portion of its mass only served to make it faster.

“NO!” Gric bellowed in rage, spinning on the spot and gathering more mana as he pointed a clawed hand toward the fleeing shadow.

A bolt of fire the size of my arm sped down from the sky, burning away another substantial portion of the shadow but failing to destroy it entirely.

Lethargic from depleting my MP, I barely managed two steps backward before I found the shadow within arm’s reach.

“RAAAAGH!!!” in a blur of movement, Lurr swept in from my left side, his axe thrumming with mana. The edge of the axe cut through the shadow but the Spell within failed to trigger.

Time slowed.

I could see the shadow coiling around the axe, its tendrils hungrily seeking out the hands that held it.

Acting without thinking, I reached out for Lurr with my Chi taking hold of his armour and drawing him back away from the shadow.

But I was too late, the shadow was inside of his armour and I could feel Lurr’s body beginning to spasm in the grips of a seizure.

As quickly as they had begun, the seizures stopped and Lurr grew deathly still.

The notification in my peripheral vision left no room for doubt. No hope.

“HAHAHAHA!!!” A demented laugh echoed from within Lurr’s helmet and I could feel his body begin to move. ‘HAHAHA-hurk!” The laughter was cut short as I used my control to snap Lurr’s arms to his sides.

“Kill it...” I ordered, “That abomination inside of his body. I want it destroyed...” I felt numb, still struggling to process what had happened.

Everything was going our way, and then...it wasn’t...

Levitating Lurr’s armour, just as I had done on our original approach, I began walking toward Wisp in the centre of the crater.

I could feel something besides Lurr’s body pressing against the armour, trying to escape. Like a beast in a cage, it railed against its confines. However, it failed to make any progress.

Unintelligible shrieks continued pouring out from within Lurr’s helmet, growing increasingly desperate and feral as we drew closer to Wisp.

Ophelia said nothing, silently stepping aside and stiffly lowering her head in respect.

Wisp’s second projection descended from the sky, staring at the thing inside of Lurr’s armour with the naked flames burning in his eyes. “You have contained it...” He rasped in what passed for surprise. “It cannot get out...Remarkable...” Wisp traced the armour with a thin delicate finger, leaving a trail of pale silver light in its wake. “I will see the Spirit destroyed,” he promised, eyes burning eagerly in anticipation, “Oh yes...”

“Make it suffer!” Sebet purred excitedly, “Make it scream and beg for mercy!”

“Leave no room for escape!” Gric snarled angrily, “See the will of our Tyrant is done!”

“Destroy it...” Ophelia hissed, wincing and favouring her left side, “Purge it from existence!”

Wisp nodded in response to each demand, but his focus remained on Lurr’s armour.

“The coward returns!...” Gric growled in warning, using his left hand to point toward a shimmering golden feline at the edge of the crater.

“It fled the moment we arrived,” Sebet added disdainfully. “Claimed this was not its fight.”

The edges of the second Spirit’s body coiled like smoke. However, unlike the Awakened trapped within Lurr’s armour, its essence was not drawn toward Wisp but was absorbed back into the majority of its form.

With exaggerated caution, the Spirit slowly made its approach.

Without being asked, Sebet and Gric moved to intercept it.

As the Spirit drew closer, it became apparent that it was injured. Limping badly and bearing patches of discolouration that were close to being entirely invisible, it was clear that battling the Awakened had exacted its toll.

“You will stop there!” Gric barked in warning, making no attempts at hiding his naked aggression.

“On that much, we agree,” Sebet snickered, uncoiling her whip and gathering mana.

The golden Spirit stopped in its tracks and with visible difficulties, settled on its haunches. “I intend no harm to you or your master,” the Spirit claimed in a soft feminine voice.

“And yet you brought harm with your abrupt absence!” Sebet countered venomously. “Do you not see how aggrieved our master is? The death of his servant is on your head!” She accused, pointing a clawed finger toward the Spirit.

“I have a duty to my people...” The Spirit replied calmly with only the faintest hint of what might be regret. “If I fall, those who are remembered will be forgotten...”

“Silence!” Gric snarled. “The fate of your people is yet to be decided!”

The Spirit recoiled as if Gric had struck it across the face. “You would not...”

“Do not presume to know our intentions!” Sebet sneered contemptuously. “We came to your aid and were met with deception and death! For this, there will be a reckoning!”

“You speak of death?” The Spirit replied heatedly, “One life pales before the dozens sacrificed to ensure this victory!”

“Ah, but you have made it clear already!” Sebet crowed victoriously, “Not all lives hold equal value, do they?!”

The feline Spirit remained silent.

“She knows we could take her without effort,” Sebet sneered contemptuously. “Weakened as she is, one solid strike would end it...” She grinned maliciously and bit her lower lip.

“Enough...” My voice was barely above a whisper but it didn’t matter.

Sebet had been about to continue speaking but bit her tongue.

The Spirit took confidence in the changing tide of the conversation. “I thank you, deliverer, for saving my-”

“Shut up...” I hissed, pressing down hard on the rage building inside of me.

It was my fault. I shouldn’t have brought him with me. I was reckless and it was Lurr who had paid the price for it.

“Many lives have been sa-” The Spirit continued.

“I said SHUT UP!” I snarled.

Wisp continued his work in silence for several minutes, very nearly running out of mana. “It is done,” he rasped approvingly, “You need only release the bindings...”

“W-Wait!” The thing inside of Lurr’s armour cried out in fear. “No need to kill! I serve you! Do anyth-AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!” The desperate pleas turned to screams as I withdrew my Chi from the armour.

The silver tracings flared to life and the flames in Wisp’s chest and eyes roared with new life.

After less than a dozen seconds, the screaming stopped and Lurr’s armour collapsed to the ground, his body presumably still inside.

“It is done,” Wisp rasped with immense satisfaction.

Lifting Lurr’s body, I opened a Spatial Breach to return to Sanctuary, ignoring the pain as my HP was drained in place of my MP.

Stepping through the Breach, I knelt on the ground and set down Lurr’s body.

He was old. One of the oldest members of Lash’s clan that had survived the Necromancer’s purge.

Unbuckling Lurr’s helmet, I hesitated.

I had seen what the other Awakened had done to its previous hosts and I was afraid of what I might find.

Thunder rumbled overhead and it began to rain.

I stared up at the dark clouds gathering in the sky and felt the anger and guilt inside of me wrestling for control.

My skin felt hot and it was difficult to breathe. So I removed my helmet and cast it aside.

Rain splashed against my face, cold and indifferent to my pain.

Lurr was not the first person to die prosecuting my crusade against the other Awakened. Hundreds of Asrusian soldiers had died fighting the Liche. But Lurr was different. I could have left him behind and it likely wouldn’t have changed anything.

I should have followed my intuition...

I SHOULD have left them all behind...

Anger overcame my guilt and turned to rage.

Thunder crashed and bright flashes of lightning lit up the night sky, casting The Grove in flickering violet light.

I removed Lurr’s helmet and looked down at his cold pale face. His eyes stared back into mine, empty, lifeless and blind to the world around us. There was no judgement, no condemnation or stoic pride in having fulfilled his duty. There was nothing.

A part of me wanted him to hate me, to blame me for what had happened. But it was impossible.

I set down Lurr’s helmet by his head and gently closed his eyes as best as I was able.

What remained of the clan wouldn’t blame me either. I knew this only too well. They would tell me that it was an honour to make such a sacrifice for the common good. That Lurr had few years left with which to serve, and that an honourable end was the best he could hope for.

It changed nothing.

Lurr was dead, and it was my fault.

Making matters worse, it had now set an official precedent. An act that the others would seek to emulate.

I had saved Lash’s people, but only to feed them through a meat grinder.

Brushing the wet hair off Lurr’s face, I could sense that his Manastone was gone. The other Awakened had consumed it when possessing his body. It was almost certainly what had killed him.

Still cradling his head in my hand, I was reminded of the loss of my mother. The circumstances of their deaths were completely different to one another, and in the case of my mother’s illness, I held no blame. Yet I couldn’t shake the forced comparison.

Then there was Ushu...

The first to die fighting at my side against the Awakened’. He had been so young...

The flashes of lightning and crashing thunder grew more frequent, slowly falling into rhythm with the blood pounding in my veins.

Where would it end?

My friends? A memory of Emelia bedridden and clinging to life came unbidden to my mind.

What about Lash? Pete? Suzy?

No, I wouldn’t allow it.

Everything turned white and I felt limitless energy tearing through my body. Every nerve in my body cried out in agony and died, leaving only an echo of the pain in its wake.

Blind to the world, I braced myself just in time for a second surge of energy to burn through my body. Despite my expectations, the nerves I had believed were dead flared with new life. Bringing another wave of indescribable agony.

Screaming into the void, pain tore through my body over and over.

Afraid of losing myself to the pain, I focused my will and fought back, bracing myself in anticipation for each new wave of pain. Little by little, the pain lessened and my sight returned.

Steam rolled off of my body in great waves, the rain evaporating as it struck my armour or unprotected face.

Shattered stones littered the blackened soil around me and the rain hissed like angry serpents even as it was swallowed by the roasted dirt.

Looking skyward, I was momentarily stunned upon realising that I had almost certainly been struck by lightning. However it was not this fact alone that surprised me, it was that I had survived.

Before I could even think to act, another arc of lightning lanced through my body.

There was no pain this time, only power.

I felt it travelling through my body, growing ever so slightly weaker in intensity and strength by the time it travelled through my right arm and into Lurr’s body.

Muscles convulsing from the shock, Lurr’s limbs spasmed and seized uncontrollably.

Ashamed that I was unintentionally desecrating his corpse, I tried to remove my hand from Lurr’s face. The nerves in my hand didn’t answer in time, and another bolt of lightning surged through my body and into Lurr’s.

Pressing down on Lurr’s chestplate for leverage I yanked my right arm back, removing my hand from his face and revealing the blackened scorched flesh beneath.

Sickened by my unintended actions, I felt another wave of rage and revulsion boiling up inside of me. Which only intensified as I was alerted to an invader entering my realm.

Rising stiffly to my feet, I pushed the rage down so I could think clearly enough to teleport using my authority. I was responsible for what had happened to Lurr, but that Spirit bore some of the guilt as well, and I would see it paid its share.

Just as I was about to relocate to Sebet’s tower, I saw movement from the corner of my eye.

Looking down at Lurr’s body, I stared in silent horror as the fingers of his right hand twitched and skittered on the blackened dirt like a crazed spider.

Repulsed and enraged at the possibility of the Awakened still being alive, I reached for my mace. However, before I could draw it from my belt, Lurr’s eyes and mouth flew open and his back arched painfully as he gasped for air.

Stunned into inaction, I could only watch as Lurr’s body seized and convulsed for several seconds before laying limp in the dirt.

Panting heavily, his one remaining eye glowed with amethyst light and rolled wildly about in its socket before inexplicably settling on me. “Ty-rant...” Lurr gasped and then collapsed. If it weren’t for his loud laboured breathing, I wouldn’t have been able to believe my eyes.

Somehow, Lurr’s was alive.

Recognising Lurr as the invader, I cautiously knelt at his side and tore off my gauntlet to take his pulse. Still leary that the other Awakened might have somehow survived and was using some form of camouflage.

Against my expectations, Lurr’s pulse was steady and strong. His skin was also warm to the touch, but a small voice in the back of my mind was only too eager to attribute the returning temperature to the lightning that had scorched his corpse.

The lightning...

Looking at my own hand, I found burns on my fingers and palm. The burns had already begun to heal and were nothing compared to the blackened flesh on Lurr’s face.

Fixated on the burns and Lurr’s fused eyelid, something in my brain clicked and I began acting without thinking.

Using my authority, I relocated us both to the entrance of Sanctuary’s hospital.

Learning that I had relocated Wraithe as well, I didn’t have time to say as much as a single word before the Daemon began shouting orders and calling for her assistants.

In a blur of activity, Lurr was dragged into the hospital and out of my sight.

“He is alive...” I croaked uncertainly, still struggling to believe what I had seen with my own eyes.

I stood there in the rain, repeating it over and over again, refusing to stop until I could understand what had happened. Understand how Lurr had miraculously returned to life when he had been stone-cold dead.

Try as I might, my thoughts returned to the lightning.

Spontaneous resuscitation was practically unheard of, and even CPR had a terrifyingly low chance of reviving someone in ideal conditions. Even so, I couldn’t help but think that the lightning had somehow jumpstarted Lurr’s heart. But it still didn’t explain how Lurr had escaped brain death.

Deprived of oxygen for more than a handful of minutes, the brain would die. All the things a living being took for granted that were carried out largely without their conscious knowledge, would end and without artificial means to replicate their processes, the body would remain dead.

And yet Lurr lived...

He spoke, I saw him breathing and felt his pulse.

He was alive...

The system had declared him dead. I had read the notification over and over again, there was no room for misinterpretation.

Lurr had died.

“My Tyrant?” Wraithe tentatively tapped my arm to try and get my attention.

“I’m listening, Wraithe, continue please.” I pushed my thoughts aside and gave Wraithe my undivided attention.

Reassured, Wraithe stood a little taller. “The burns are largely superficial, limited to discolouring of the skin-”

“Except for his eye,” I predicted.

“Just so,” Wraithe agreed. “The eyelids could be separated, but without the possibility of returning his sight, it may be better to allow the lids to fuse...”

“That’s a question you should be asking him,” I replied cautiously. “Is he conscious? Has he said anything?”

Wraithe shook her head. “I established a connection through telepathy, but the warrior’s thoughts are...somewhat scattered...”

“He was dead,” I stated bluntly by means of explanation. “That will do it to you...”

Wraithe slowly nodded in agreement, and I could tell she was hesitating, deciding whether to reveal something. “There is more, my Tyrant,” Wraithe volunteered nervously, “The warrior’s manastone is gone, I felt no traces of it when establishing the telepathic link...”

“I discovered as much as well,” I agreed.

“And there is something else,” Wraithe hesitated again, her rodent tail flicking side to side nervously and her ears flattening against her skull. “I sensed something else inside of him, something that shouldn’t be there...” She poked at my abdomen, “He carries the same energy I sense in you, my Tyrant...The same energy born by the others in that foreign realm...”

“Wait...” I was struggling to shift mental gears. “You are saying Lurr has Chi?” I demanded incredulously.

Wraithe gnawed at her index finger and became lost in deep thought for a few moments before nodding her head vigorously. “Yes, I think that is what they called it.”

“How?...” I extended my senses and was stunned as I realised Wraithe was right. It was faint, but I could feel Lurr’s presence on the second floor of the hospital. I could feel the rolling thunder in his guts.

Wraithe yelped in surprise, leaping back a step and pointing at my hands, “My Tyrant!”

I stared down at my hands in shock. Small arcs of lightning crackled over my fingers emitting the unmistakable scent of ozone into the air.

I felt no pain, but I could sense the Chi gathered around my hands. It was mine, there was no mistaking that. It was as much a part of me as my own hands and heart.

Wraithe perked up and looked back toward the Hospital. “The Warrior is awake!” She declared excitedly, scampering back through the hospital door without saying another word.

With a thought, I drew the lightning back into myself returning it to an undetermined state as raw Chi. To satisfy my curiosity, I drew it out again. Only this time, I drew to my limit.

Violet and magenta arcs of lightning raced over my body, illuminating the darkness and casting a host of flickering shadows into the night.

Unexplainable power could be just as dangerous to me as it was to my enemies. I needed answers and I only had one person I could ask who had a decent chance of having the information I needed.

***** Yi Gim~ Yi Gim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Bay of Tranquility *****

Yi Gim sat at his daughter’s bedside and held her hand supportively while a handful of his most loyal retainers continued delivering and organising the supplies demanded by the Tyrant’s mysterious healer.

The fact that the healer had miraculously reversed the worst of So Eun’s ailments in a single visit was nothing short of miraculous. Dozens of Alchemists and physicians had declared her a hopeless case, only prescribing medicines that would draw out her life but nothing more.

Yi Gim had entertained the thought of thanking his ally through the communication token but had ultimately decided against it. He could sense that their exchange felt alarmingly one-sided already and was concerned that unless the scales were righted in the near future, it would cause their mutually beneficial relationship to rapidly unravel.

Any idiot privy to the information Yi Gim had garnered thus far would be able to tell that the Tyrant needed Yi Gim many magnitudes less than he needed him.

Somehow blessed by the heavens, the Tyrant had already demonstrated the richness of his lands and the incredible competence of his retainers. Adding to the fact that he personally possessed dual Affinities, there was no doubting his imminent meteoric rise through the rankings.

Lacking only in knowledge, which he could just as readily gain from anyone else, the Tyrant’s only failing seemed to be his amenable temperament. Unlike just about every other Monarch Yi GIm had encountered, the Tyrant seemed utterly disinterested in doing battle unless provoked.

Yi Gim knew better than to mark him as a pacifist. The Tyrant had far too much-repressed violence in his soul. Like a poorly trained beast, he was simply waiting for an excuse, waiting for a victim to do something that would justify unleashing his savagery.

With a handful of potential Monarchs laid low by his hand before becoming ranked, the Tyrant’s strength and resolve were beyond question. Once provoked, he or his enemy would die.

“Patriarch, our task is completed,” his chief retainer and house steward, Ran Joon,  declared dutifully.

“Very good.” Yi Gim removed the sorcerous Summoning stave from within his Storage Ring. “Remember, I will tolerate no violence or provocations toward our guest without proof of a credible threat. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Patriarch!” Ran Joon and the lower-ranked retainers announced in unison.

Yi Gim nodded in approval and gingerly prepared the stave for its activation.

“Tell me again Father, tell me that you did not bargain away your soul for my sake,” So Eun insisted earnestly.

“Not my soul, dear one, and far less than the rings adorning your fingers,” Yi Gim answered honestly. “However, those treasures are far more valuable than what was demanded for them in payment. Twenty territories is a small price to pay to counter a master poisoner’s arts.”

‘Twenty territories?...” So Eun questioned uncomfortably.

“You do not appreciate the state you were in,” Yi Gim replied, his voice strained. “Twenty territories is nothing. Once you are whole again, I will take the cost of those treasures from the Demon of the Fog’s hide!”

So Eun’s face paled. “Father! You cannot endanger your life by entertaining such foolishness!”

Yi Gim’s jaw tightened. “It is not foolishness, Eun’er. Reckless? Perhaps, but not foolishness. With these treasures, we have the chance to make the Demon of the Fog pay for what she took from us!”

So Eun gripped tightly at her blanket, “It won’t bring Hyun back...” Her eyes darkened with rage, “But if you believe it is possible, I would see him avenged!”

“When the time is right,” Yi Gim agreed dourly. “We may yet bargain for other treasures to gain a greater advantage.”

“You believe so, father?” So Eun asked earnestly. “Does our ally possess so many treasures that he can just give them away without poisoning his heart toward us?”

Yi Gim held up the stave. “Our ally, the Tyrant, he made this with his own hands. I saw it with my own eyes.”

So Eun stared at the stave in astonishment.

“Provided we offer something of suitable rarity or value, I do not doubt we could secure further treasures,” Yi Gim declared confidently. “The danger lies in asking beyond our value, positioning ourselves as lesser rather than equals.”

“Then, how do you intend to improve our position?” So Eun pressed, tempted with vengeance and refusing to let it go.

“Upholding the Oaths we exchanged will close the gap,” Yi Gim replied confidently. “Our ally is powerful and has rich resources at his disposal. However, he lacks knowledge and connections. The first I am bound to provide as requested, but the second will be the means by which that knowledge will increase our position and standing.”

So Eun was quiet for a few moments and then nodded in understanding. “He cannot value what he does not know exists, and securing them for trade, leveraging our connections, handling the risks, that is our value.”

Yi Gim nodded approvingly. “Exactly so.”

<Yi Gim?> The deep rumbling voice of the Tyrant sounded in Yi Gim’s mind, connected through the communication token.

<I am here, Tyrant.> Yi Gim replied hurriedly while making sure he didn’t sound overly eager and not to use the Tyrant’s name. A family name had not been given when last they spoke, and Yi Gim was concerned that expressing too much familiarity would be rude.

<I have a question whose answer is not clearly explained within the books you provided.> The Tyrant explained bluntly.

<If it is not dedicated to paper, I am afraid I cannot guarantee an answer.> Yi Gim replied honestly, tempering the Tyrant’s expectations.

<I am aware.> The Tyrant observed dryly. <But I suspect you know the answer. Or at least know enough to satisfy my curiosity.>

Intrigued, and glad for the Tyrant’s confidence, Yi Gim waited for the question.

<What do you know about the Thunder Affinity?> The Tyrant asked.

Yi Gim was somewhat surprised. He had expected a more esoteric subject. <Above all, it is exceedingly rare and very powerful. Only a dozen Monarchs can claim their subjects possess the Thunder Affinity. A small handful possess it themselves.>

<But what does it do?> The Tyrant pressed impatiently.

Yi Gim made sure to keep a mental note of it. He knew that the Tyrant had two Affinities of his own, and if he had a subordinate with the Thunder Affinity, that would definitely be worth remembering.

<It allows the Cultivator that bears such a gift to control the lightning and thunder of the heavens. To imbue its essence into Techniques and even simple martial attacks.> Yi Gim explained eagerly. <However, its greatest value is defying Heavenly Tribulations! Redirecting or even consuming the deadly energies and denying them their intended target.>

The Tyrant remained silent for an extended period, but Yi Gim felt confident that there would be something else.

<Why isn’t there a Lightning Affinity? Why does Thunder Affinity allow control over Lightning?> The Tyrant demanded. Although his tone made it clear he was more annoyed by the subject rather than Yi Gim himself.

<I do not know...> Yi Gim answered honestly. <It is just the way things are. If you are interested in theories, I could locate several prominent works on the subject?>

<No. It doesn’t matter.> The Tyrant seemed distracted. <Thank you for your answers.>

<It was a pleasure honouring our agreement.> Yi Gim replied brightly. <And if you are willing to engage in trade again, I can seek out more rare and valuable material components.>

<I’m interested.> The Tyrant replied bluntly. <I’ll let you know when I am ready.>

The connection was severed before Yi Gim could make a formal farewell. However, he remained aware of the Tyrant’s earlier distraction and chose not to take offence. He knew only too well that the position of Monarch could require abrupt changes in one’s plans.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 72 - Sorcery and Spellcraft - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 72 - Sorcery and Spellcraft - Part One

My plan to introduce and expose Terry to the people of Sanctuary was working just as I had hoped it would. I wanted him to understand that I did things differently, that I was in no way like his former Masters. To appreciate that his confinement had been motivated by a desire to protect the men, women, and children now going about their lives around us.

Arriving at the fortified gateway to The Grove, the Orcs and Lizardmen on guard stared at Terry with intense suspicion but allowed us through after recognising my alter ego.

Passing through the gateway, Terry quickly came to a standstill as he began silently staring at the supernatural beauty before us.

“This place is...” Terry shook his head, at a loss for words.

“Magical? Beautiful?” I suggested with a grin.

“Yeah...” Terry agreed, staring out at the lake with reverent awe.

“Wait here a moment,” I ordered. “I need to change. But if you are good, I’ll introduce you to Ushu.”

Terry frowned and looked like he was going to protest, but changed his mind as I mentioned Ushu. “That’s the dragon, right?”

“One of the Dragons,” I corrected with a chuckle.

Terry looked toward the sky and gave a dry gulp.

Suppressing the urge to tell him he was looking in the wrong direction, I used my authority to relocate myself to my cave. Shedding the non-magical clothing that was a part of my Human alter ego’s disguise, I stowed them away inside the Storage Ring.

Changing back to my true appearance was unpleasant but I felt much better once it was over. Being so small had a way of messing with my head.

Using my authority again, I reappeared beside Terry who had obediently remained where I had left him moments prior.

“Fuck me?!” Terry cursed, jumping back several paces in surprise. “Someone your size should NOT be allowed to move around like that...” He hissed, sweating nervously.

I shrugged. “If you found that surprising, maybe you aren’t ready to meet Ushu...”

Terry scowled.

“Just an observation,” I commented before nodding toward the lake.

Dorsal spines and fins had broken the surface, announcing Ushu’s imminent arrival.

Terry turned just in time to witness Ushu’s head crest the surface of the lake.

I conjured several roasted Swamp Lurkers and tossed them into Ushu’s waiting maw. He was capable of conjuring food for himself, or even hunting for it, but feeding him like this was a nicety and I saw no reason to do away with it.

“Terry, this is Ushu,” I couldn’t help but smile smugly as I made the introduction. “Ushu, this is Terry, he’s a guest.”

Ushu huffed indifferently, spraying Terry, and to a lesser extent, myself, with lake water and small chunks of roasted meat.

“How is Cooper doing?” I asked, curious since I hadn’t had much time to look in on her lately.

“HUN-TING,” Ushu replied proudly, his booming voice a cross between crashing boulders and a deep rasping hiss.

Using my authority, I located Cooper far to the southeast, most likely in the giant river that surrounded Sanctuary’s swamp. There weren’t any Beasts large enough to pose a threat to her, but I suspected Ushu’s pride was more closely related to the initiative and act itself, rather than anything she would face while doing so.

Ushu disappeared back into the lake, sending fresh waves out in every direction and drowning the bank with displaced water.

“That was a dragon!” Terry exclaimed excitedly,  “A real fucking dragon!” He stared intensely at the lake, watching Ushu descend deeper until he diverted course toward his cave. “Those were wings right?” Terry asked uncertainly, “You said he could fly?”

I nodded and conjured two barrels of Evolution Elixir. “You might be able to convince him to take you for a ride sometime. But now, it’s time to push for your Evolution.”

Terry warily approached the barrels. His nose twitched and familiarity settled in his eyes. “This the alcohol the Devil gave me?” It was less a question and more of an observation.

I nodded anyway. “Evolution Elixir, it’s a more concentrated form of the Manastones and has the addictive component stripped out of it.”

“She said something like that before...” Terry muttered. “I remember...” He grew pale and trembled in a manner I was all too familiar with. “I needed it...needed it more than anything...The things I did...” A haunted look settled in his eyes.

I knelt on one knee to bring us closer to eye level. “I know what it’s like,” I told him, but didn’t allow my voice to soften. Sympathy wasn’t what he needed right now. “It’s why you swore an Oath never to knowingly consume a raw Manastone without my express permission. Not because I don’t trust you to resist the temptation, but because I know there is only so much you can take. I’m in a position to remove that burden, so I have done it.”

Still pale, Terry nodded to show he understood my intentions.

Sitting on the grass, I removed the lids from both barrels and conjured a simple clay cup for Terry.

Without saying a word, Terry accepted the cup and hesitantly filled it from one of the barrels. However, as he was raising the cup to his mouth, he hesitated and began staring at his distorted reflection.

Taking the other barrel, I raised it to my lips and gulped down half of its contents. By scale, the barrel was comparable to the cup in Terry’s hand. However, the proof of the alcohol inside was not intended for casual consumption.

I had never been a drinker while on Earth. So alcohol had taken a great deal of getting used to. Poison Resistance combined with my high Toughness helped delay serious inebriation almost indefinitely. But the quantities and proof involved still weren’t to be taken lightly.

Eyes wide, Terry stared at me for several moments before returning to his drink. Grimly setting his jaw, he tilted his head back and drank.

Expecting Terry to react to the lethally high-proof alcohol, I was surprised when he drank the whole cup down in one steady pull and then reached for another.

Terry drank with an almost robotic repetition. However, his smaller size quickly caught up with him and he had to relieve himself. Afterwards, the cycle repeated anew.

“Should be dead...” Terry croaked in disbelief, staring at the bottom of the empty barrel.

“If we were on Earth, you would be,” I agreed dryly.

“Was dead...” Terry snickered to himself before scowling darkly.

I promoted Terry to the rank of Underlord and conjured another barrel of Elixir. All the while, watching his Status like a hawk.

With each minor Evolution achieved, the hair on Terry’s head thickened, spreading down the nape of his neck, across his shoulders and down the sides of his face. By no means clean-shaven before, Terry now had ragged sideburns, casting his already hard features in a considerably more intense predatory light.

Terry’s fingernails and toenails were slowly replaced by thick pale claws, and the canines in his mouth had grown sharp and prominently protruded from his gums whenever he opened his mouth.

With less than a third of the second barrel remaining, Terry lowered his cup and stared at the open air.

Several minutes passed in silence.

“You were right...” Terry grunted reluctantly. He dropped the clay club and its remaining contents into the barrel. “I could still back out...” He muttered. “I don’t owe them anything...” Terry momentarily lost his balance before righting himself again, only now with teeth bared in anger. “You can’t make me do this!” He snarled, baring his fangs and glaring at me with savage fury.

“I can’t,” I agreed calmly. “And wouldn’t, even if I could,” I added.

Terry hung his head and clenched his fists so tightly that his claws pierced his own palms and caused them to bleed. “I. Don’t. Want. this!” He hissed, “I don’t owe them shit!” His fists tightened, causing more blood to trickle onto the grass.

“The choice is yours Terry. We can end this all right now,” I insisted firmly.

“Why?!...” Terry growled angrily, “Why are you making this so difficult?!” His shoulders slackened and he unclenched his fists. Cupping his face in his hands, Terry groaned in anger and frustration. All the while smearing blood across his brow and around his eyes. He slumped to his knees and began slowly rocking back and forth.

Looking away from Terry and taking in our surroundings, it felt wrong that such a trying test of character would occur in such a beautiful and magical place. Years of conditioning from television, movies and books had left an expectation for overcast skies at the very least. Although I doubted Terry would remember events in the same manner as myself.

My contemplation was broken by an unexpected alert announcing my increase in level. The new Dungeon training program hadn’t been in effect for very long and there were few individuals in the higher tiers of my Labyrinth. So it came as a pleasant surprise.

The increase in level allowed another Spell to be added to Grimoire of Flesh, but it also provided a new Class Ability. Sorcery.

[(Class Ability: Sorcery.): The progeny of a powerful magical bloodline, mana flows in your veins and may be called upon in your hour of need. The {MP} cost of {Spells} may be substituted for {HP}. The {HP} cost of {Spells} is reduced by {Presence}.]

Reading through the contents of the Class Ability, I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or concerned. Sorcery provided a third means of casting Spells to my repertoire, but it carried greater risks than the cowl settled on my shoulders. It would serve well enough in certain emergencies, but losing HP carried substantial short-term risks.

The only major advantage it provided was that I didn’t need the Kobolds’ Synergy. However, it did provide the means to Summon, said Kobolds in certain emergencies, allowing for the less riskyMP regeneration exploit. Assuming the circumstances allowed, of course.

“Fine!” Terry snarled bitterly. “Fuck it!” He lowered his hands, revealing his bloody face. “I’ll do it!” He raised his head and stared intensely at the notifications only he could see. “Moonsoul Packleader! Accept!”

The hair on Terry’s body began taking on a silvery-white highlight and he grew a half-foot taller in the span of a few seconds. However, nothing else appeared to happen.

Reviewing Terry’s Status information, I was relieved to find that his new Evolution had triggered a change in his Class. Making Terry a Lycan Lord.

At a glance, I recognised Savage Nobility, Birthright and Born to Rule now present as Racial Abilities. Confirming my suspicions that leadership castes were intended to breed true amongst their population and maintain control through raw Strength if necessary.

However, in place of Takesation, which provided me Exp from my subjects and provided increased drop rates for items in exchange. Terry possessed the Pack Bond Class Ability, which generated a small portion of Exp from his subordinates but also allowed Terry to remotely experience the sensations of a subordinate. It carried a MP cost, but to my surprise, the cost could be paid by either party.

Hunter’s Call was similar to Summon Servant but was limited to compatible Species. However, it could also be used as a Lesser Summon of the caster’s Species. Allowing Terry to Summon Lycan Lords if he so chose.

Pack Leader was interesting. Terry could designate a target and award buffs to any allies that attack or are attacked by the target. However, the effects would only be active so long as Terry was in the same general proximity or ‘short range’ of the target. Only one target could be nominated at a time, but there wasn’t a cost associated with the Ability. So it would be up to Terry to make the most of it.

The Class didn’t provide a bonus to Willpower, focusing on Strength and Agility. However, it didn’t have a negative either, so I was willing to take it as a win overall. Besides, there was a decent chance that exercising Born to Rule would develop his Willpower stat over time.

Despite his somewhat drunken state, I could see that Terry was quietly reading through the changes for himself. He was also sobering up at an extraordinary rate as the result of beneficial Synergies.

“What now?...” Terry asked hesitantly.

I pointed toward the lake and conjured a fresh change of clothes and a towel. “You clean yourself up, we get a warm meal inside you, and then we introduce you to your people.”

“My...People...” Terry repeated grimly. He shook his head and waded into the shallows.

Giving Terry some privacy, I mentally set about creating a new Faction and assigning Terry as the Faction leader.

The former dog soldiers of the Confederacy had been Slaves originally. However, I had set them loose in a cluster of isolated territories at Sebet’s request.

There were tens of thousands of them.

Sebet had been very thorough in liberating as many of them from their former Masters as possible. However, unlike most of the other Slaves, the dog soldiers were well and truly broken.

The result of generations of selective breeding in captivity, there was a lethargy to them that largely defied explanation. Free of their Enslavement, the majority defaulted to the bare minimum to keep themselves alive. Eating and drinking, but only if the food and water was provided for them.

A small number had gone outright feral, taking to the wild in their transformed state and hunting anything that moved. Including one another.

All of them had demonstrated extreme xenophobia, attacking or cowering before anything that wasn’t one of their own. According to Sebet’s reports, the same individual had proven capable of either irrespective of the approach she attempted. The only guaranteed method to establish contact and hold a conversation had been through Domination or Seduction.

Given the sheer scale involved, and the ethical ramifications, introducing Terry as a leader and hoping for the best was our only real option. Of course, Sebet and Gric had remained firmly divided on whether Terry would prove equal to the task, and whether he would even accept the responsibility in the first place.

Both of them had read Terry’s mind and explored his memories in detail, and somehow arrived at wildly different conclusions regarding his expected behaviour. However, what surprised me most was who had been proven right.

Still affording Terry a measure of privacy, I stared out across the lake and at the distant figures attending Lash’s garden party.

Taking Sebet’s advice, Lash had hosted the party to network with the highest-ranking Human women amongst our subjects. The intention was to put a face alongside her title, ensuring compliance in future endeavours without the need to rely on the title of Tyrantess. In short, Sebet wanted Lash to establish a base of soft power she could call upon in the future as needed.

It was one of the interesting dichotomies between the other monsters and the Humans. Lash did not need to wine and dine the Kobolds, Gnolls, or anyone else. They already came just short of worshipping the ground we walked on. In the Labyrinths, the strongest ruled. Whether that strength was raw brawn or ruthless cunning, it didn’t really matter. Because the strongest also had an unquestionable duty to serve and protect the tribe.

Humans were different...

To say Humans were ruled by self-interest would perhaps be unkind, but not altogether inaccurate. On a micro-scale, people were generally good. However, at the macro level, politics dominated everything. Manipulation in all its forms was the standard, and it was something Lash would need to learn.

Of course, it came as no real surprise that Jacque, the Doppelganger and a fellow Awakened, had decided to attend as well.

Her presence was not altogether unwelcome. However, I sincerely hoped Jacque would abstain from stirring up too much trouble. As a natural mind reader and something of a provocateur, there was significant potential for political and social strife if she decided to put her mind to it.

On a whim, I Summoned a projection of Jacque.

Devoid of her human disguise, Jacque‘s skin was a pale slate-grey and her hair was shock white.

<Thought I saw you lurking across the lake.> Jacque commented with immutable amusement, the cheeks of her mouthless face rising in a strange approximation of a smile. <And you have gotten biiiig!> She made a show of looking me up and down before bobbing her head from side to side and snapping her fingers.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

<You know you love it!> Jacque snickered sassily. <How have you been doing you big lump?>

“I have kids now,” I replied somewhat awkwardly but unable to suppress a smile.

<So I saw!> Jacque replied cheerily. <I always knew you had a type, and I was only a couple of guesses from bodybuilder-> Her body rippled and took on a hardened muscular physique. <Just a shame I can’t do anything about my height! Otherwise, maybe we could have had a shot, eh?> Jacque slapped her heavily muscled thigh in amusement before changing back to her original self.

“It’s not just her muscles!” I retorted awkwardly.

<Oh, believe me, I know.> Jacque’s eyes changed, taking on a deep amethyst hue. <It’s her eyes, right? That’s definitely what you were going to say, don’t even try to deny it!>

Even knowing she couldn’t read my mind without my noticing, I felt a pang of momentary paranoia all the same.

<Oh relax!> Jacque thumped my thigh playfully. <You and your kids are just about the only things your lady will talk about if given half a chance! In fact...> She looked pointedly across the lake. <Yup, she’s doing it right now.>

I wasn’t really sure what to say.

<Hrm? Oh, sorry bout that. Was having a bit of a chat with myself.> Jacque explained distractedly. <Got to say, it’s pretty weird being in two places at once like this.> She shook her head vigorously and pointed to Terry. <So anyway, who’s the naked beefcake staring at us from the lake?>

“His name is Terry, he’s-” I began to answer but was interrupted.

<Terry? That’s a weird name.> Jacque commented distractedly.

“Jacque, he’s one of us,” I explained, ignoring the rude interruption. “And he hasn’t heard a single word you have said so far.”

Jacque took an involuntary step backward, immediately on guard. <And you just let him in?!> She demanded incredulously.

Terry had been watching us from the beginning, but his embarrassment and curiosity had now turned to caution. “Like us?” Terry repeated, eyeing Jacque cautiously, “You mean, like from Earth? Or just one of your subjects?”

“Both,” I replied with a sigh. “Terry, this is Jacque. She was the first one of us that I met in this world-” I explained.

<Second.> Jacque interjected.

“What?” I looked back at Jacque in surprise.

<I was the second Awakened you met.> Jacque repeated, elaborating slightly.

“Then...Who was the first?” I asked, now profoundly concerned and trying to remember everyone I had encountered on the first floor.

<You really didn’t know?> Jacque stared up at me with genuine surprise. <Kiki, that shopkeeper from the Hurst Labyrinth. She was one of us as well.>

“The...The Tailor?” My throat suddenly felt incredibly dry.

<That’s the name the muggles were calling her.> Jacque confirmed. She furrowed her brow and became momentarily lost in thought. <You took over the first floor...But I haven’t heard anything about Kiki running amok. Do you have her locked up or something?>

I stiffly shook my head, recalling the confrontation with The Tailor in the swamp. “That evil Spirit that was inside the shopkeeper. She was going to attack Sanctuary, and had already killed dozens of Variants...”

<So you killed her?> There was no judgement in Jacque’s voice, but there was a certain expectation in its place.

“No...” I felt a fresh sense of loss as I recalled Ushu’s face. “A young Shaman Banished her, but I don’t know where.”

Jacque stiffened. <You just Banished her?...> She winced painfully. <That was a big mistake, Tim. You see, Kiki’s an irredeemable addict. Even before she died, she would do anything for her fix. That's why she’s here! Fuck! She brained a dude in broad daylight because she thought he ‘might’ have a little oxy on him!>

“You knew her from before?” I demanded incredulously.

Jacque waved me off dismissively. <Nah, not in person or anything. Just the news reports. She killed more than thirty people before they found her, already dead from an overdose in some alley.>

“Why didn’t you warn me sooner?!” I could feel the anger building inside of me and felt little reason to restrain it.

Jacque flinched and backed away guiltily. <I honestly didn’t think she would be a problem.> She waved at our surroundings expansively. <I mean, you're pretty resourceful, and like I said. I thought you might have just offed her already...Shit...Kiki seriously came here? Fuuuuck...> Jacque irritably kicked at the grass and stared worriedly toward the gate. She then stared briefly across the lake before determinedly meeting my eye. <You need to track her down Tim. You can’t just leave Kiki running around out there.>

I forced my anger down and took a deep breath. “If you had told me what she was sooner, maybe I could have done something and saved countless lives in the process!”

Jacque retreated a handful of steps, still defiant as ever but with new fear in her eyes.

I took another deep breath and forced myself into a state of calm. There would be time for anger later, but now was the time for decisive leadership. With a thought, I terminated Jacque’s projection and turned to Terry. “I need to go take care of this...”

There must have been something about the way I said it, or perhaps it was the expression on my face because Terry silently back at me with the same fear I had seen in Jacque’s eyes only moments earlier.

I Summoned a projection of Gric and avoided looking at Terry. “When he’s ready, take Terry where he needs to go,” I ordered.

Gric nodded obediently and gave Terry an evaluating stare. “Your will be done, my Tyrant.”

Safe in the knowledge that Gric would see to things in my absence, I created a Spatial Breach and returned to the Hurst Labyrinth.

Preparations for dealing with the blood-seeking bats and other Beasts had been made days prior, and the formerly wild Ogres had been undergoing strict weapon drill training in my absence. They were by no means remotely close to a professional standard, but they seemed to be capable of holding a formation. Which was a marked improvement.

In other circumstances, I may have found it amusing to watch men and women half the Ogres’ size patrolling through their midst and cursing the Ogres like Hollywood movie drill instructors.

It also didn’t escape my notice that several of the largest Ogres had been given temporary field promotions. Which was smart, given the smaller Ogres would do just about anything their larger compatriots demanded of them. Limiting the number of Ogres the instructors needed to cajole and intimidate down to a relative handful.

I opened a second Breach, allowing my thunder warriors to join me within the Labyrinth. If I had been thinking straight from the beginning, I would have gathered them first. However, despite the short notice, they were all accounted for within a few minutes of maintaining the Breach.

“We will begin the Invasion within the hour,” I announced to no one in particular, knowing full well that my voice would carry and the news would be passed along by everyone within earshot.

Sure enough, the open yard of the fortress was quickly entombed in stone as Dwergi Earth Mages enacted their final preparations.

After donning my armour, I spent my remaining time deliberating which Spell should fill the empty position within my Grimoire of Flesh. After giving it a great deal of thought, and weighing my suspicions against the chance that the Grimoire of Flesh was influencing my Chi Affinities, I decided to choose the Fire Lance Spell.

Sure enough, after confirming my choice, I discovered that I had gained the Fire Chi Affinity. However, it was only Rank one, making it considerably lower ranked than the others.

Fire Lance was a rather straightforward Spell, which was why I had chosen it to begin with. One of the first Spells unlocked by Fire Mages, the Spell scaled in destructive power relative to the amount of MP used to power it. Of course, the more MP it was given, the more unstable it would become, requiring more time to stabilise it. Assuming stability was a required feature.

It took the form of a javelin and its general size was scaled according to the level of MP used to create it. A basic Fire Lance was roughly two feet long and an inch thick. Composed of roiling flames, it did little damage to stone surfaces but bit small chunks out of wood or other flammable materials.

Propelled under its own power, the Fire Lance would lose destructive potential as it bled MP while travelling toward its intended target. Or whatever it happened to hit otherwise.

Spending only a single MP and exercising my Fire Chi Affinity, I found that I could keep the Fire Lance suspended in my immediate proximity without the need to release it toward a target. However, it would continue bleeding MP all the while, albeit at a slower rate than it should have done otherwise.

As best I could determine, the Chi I was injecting to control the flames was forcibly retaining the MP as an unintended beneficial side-effect.

Of course, my Fire Affinity was not limited to controlling magical fire. Similar to controlling water, stone and dirt, I could invest Chi into mundane flames and move them through the air. However, the moment I would withdraw my Chi, the flames would die.

With the poisoned and envenomed defences fully prepared, I initiated the Invasion. However, with the fortress completely entombed, there was nothing to see and precious little to do. So I continued practising.

Aware of the need to meet my existing obligations to my soldiers, I crafted several hollowed-out staves that would allow designated officers to use the Summon Servant Spell. In that same vein, I made sure to transfer immediate family members into the Faction to ensure the Spell would work as intended.

Of course, this required consulting extensively with Gric to make sure I was transferring the correct people and that their former Factions’ were alerted to the cause for the transfers.

No doubt, a handful of bureaucrats within each Faction had been given minor heart attacks when I began the reshuffle without warning. However, I doubted they or their superiors would complain after learning who was responsible.

At least, not directly.

I had little doubt that some of the more ambitious Lords would attempt to negotiate for some form of compensation or another. That was a given. I just had to decide what I was willing to give.

Growing increasingly stressed by the knowledge that another psychotic Awakened was on the loose, and had been for quite some time, I wasn’t able to sleep.

There were no guarantees that The Tailor, or Kiki, as Jacque had called it, was even in the Hurst Labyrinth anymore. But I had a way of finding out.

The Deep Ogres’ tribal Spirit had sensed me coming from multiple floors away, which meant Wisp should be able to do the same.

With access to Spells specifically designed to target and control Spirits and Undead, Wisp was uniquely suited to tracking and fighting this Awakened.

As a means of keeping myself busy, and trying to take my mind off the Awakened on the loose, I spent my sleepless hours making magical weapons that would be awarded to my most dedicated soldiers.

Technically, I was making attachments that contained Spells. Which could be paired with existing weapons and whatever Manastones the soldiers had on hand or fueled by the soldiers’ own MP.

Limited by the materials on hand, I only managed to create a hundred or so stone and leather trinkets containing the Fire Lance and Thundering Strike Spells.

Depending on the situation, and the Class of the soldier, the Spells may only provide a small boost in utility. However, I already knew for a fact that archer-type Classes became mobile artillery pieces with the Thundering Strikes Spell.

Of course, my Bodyguards had provided ample evidence that Thundering Strikes was just as devastating when used to aggressively prosecute a melee as well.

Thanks to the Kobolds’ Synergies, I felt no fatigue despite remaining awake for over thirty consecutive hours.

Dismissing the notifications and opening the wall of the fortress with a casual wave of my hand, I warily stomped out of the darkness and into the light of the late afternoon sun.

A month or so earlier, the grisly sight before me may have given me pause. However, surveying the carnage laid forth before me, I felt nothing but impatience.

The steeped walls of the fortress were bedecked with corpses.

Beasts in their thousands had impaled themselves on stone spikes and spines that bristled across the surface of the Fortress walls. Some showed signs of feeding upon and attacking one another before succumbing to blood loss and pain. However, many more lay dead at the foot of the Fortress where their bodies lay scattered about and floated within a wide moat of dark crimson liquid.

Calling it blood wasn’t entirely accurate. It contained a large amount of blood and offal, but it was also heavily diluted with water and impregnated with virulent Poison and Venom.

Any beast that made it past the thorn walls and came into contact with the foul liquid would quickly find itself in the grips of a lethal seizure. Its blood cells breaking apart and its tissue necrotising in mere seconds. If ingested directly, the Poison and Venom would act even faster, liquidating organs before fouling the Beast’s bloodstream with their contents.

If the victims had been human...humanoid...it would have qualified as a war crime.

Ironically, the cleanup would take no time at all. There would be no signs of what had happened and no risks to future occupants or travellers.

That fact somehow made it worse instead of better.

If they had been people, I knew that the sight would hold far greater weight, and the fact that it didn’t, bothered me. Step by step, piece by piece, I was becoming someone I didn’t recognise. I was losing myself, sacrificing a sliver at a time.

“Weakness...” I grunted angrily under my breath.

Weakness was what I had lost. Sacrificed to ensure a future for those who looked to me for protection. Complaining and whining about it like a child wouldn’t solve anything and was just another sign of weakness that had yet to be purged.

I pushed the feelings down, forcing my mind to the task at hand.

Issuing orders for the army to establish a long-term vanguard position on the next floor, I left for the city of Hurst.

Retrieving the markers that would allow entry up to the forty-fifth floor Foothold, I Summoned Wisp and set about explaining my plan.

For the sake of expediency, I would have three of Wisp’s projections take a floor each at a time and search for the Awakened. Once they found her, I would bring in Ophelia, Gric and Sebet, and then we would take the fight to the Awakened directly.

The Awakened wasn’t necessarily undead, but Ophelia was just as capable of fighting Spirits as she was against corporeal targets. A benefit of technically being a Spirit herself.

I would have considered bringing Orphiel, but there was little point. Very nearly the textbook definition of a pretty boy, almost any combat situation where he might prove useful would be better served by Summoning another projection of Ophelia instead.

Bringing Gric and Sebet was just as much out of the sense of redundancy as exploiting their unique Abilities. Possessing all the Spells at my disposal, their projections would be capable of taking risks I just couldn’t justify taking myself.

The same reason why I would be leaving most of my Bodyguards behind.

They were not expandable, but I didn’t have enough MP, or HP, to just Summon projections of them all either. And if I was honest with myself, they probably wouldn’t be all that useful against an evil Spirit. If they didn’t have the Bodyguard Ability, and the job description of the same, I wouldn’t have agreed to take any of them at all.

With Wisp’s projections now searching the Labyrinth, I began recovering my MP in earnest in preparation for Summoning Ophelia. Technically in occupied enemy territory, I decided against using Sorcery to substitute my HP. At this particular moment, it was an unnecessary risk.

Time passed and I had to replace Wisp’s projections.

Shortly after the second wave of Wisp’s projections entered the Labyrinth,  one of their number returned.

“Great one,” Wisp rasped in deference, bowing his head respectfully. “It is as you feared. I sense a powerful and malevolent Spirit lurking deeper within the Labyrinth.”

Ophelia’s projection, already restless from the waiting, grew agitated. “Where is it?” She demanded, her copper halo intensifying to an almost blinding white-gold.

With his face hidden in the darkness of the living shadows that formed his robes, Wisp bore Ophelia’s righteous anger with cold indifference. “Deeper,” he repeated coldly before turning to address me once more. “I must return if I am to determine the target’s precise location...”

“Very well,” I agreed, waving toward the pile of tokens laid out on the floor. “Exercise your best judgement.”

“Of course, Great One,” the cowl of Wisp’s robes bobbed in respect. He dropped a token for the fifteenth floor onto the smaller pile and retrieved a new token. Without saying another word, he silently retreated through the portal.

I looked pointedly at Gric and Sebet, “Pass news along to the other two and have them return so they can move on to different floors,” I ordered.

Sebet and Gric both bowed obediently, retrieved tokens of their own and disappeared through the portal.

Separating the tokens for floors that had already been searched, I anxiously considered those that remained.

Depending upon which floor the Awakened was staying on, there was the distinct probability that fighting them would carry exponentially greater risks. Firstly, because the monsters native to the floor would be hostile, and as a corporeal being, that would mean that they would pose a danger to me but not necessarily to the Spirit.

Secondly, surviving on a high-level floor would strongly suggest that the other Awakened was capable of handling monsters of that level without particular difficulty. Or at the very least, a high chance of taking significant damage before being able to retreat from an unfavourable battle.

Lastly, because I wasn’t certain what level of wild monster I could handle in a straight fight.

Dominating monsters on the tenth floor through raw Strength and size was one thing, but for all I knew, a monster from the twentieth floor might be capable of doing the exact same thing to me.

The projections returned shortly after Sebet and Gric left. Sparing only the time to bow their heads, they discarded their previous tokens before taking up new ones and leaving through the portal again.

The longer I waited, the more I could feel my nerves beginning to falter under the weight of the unknown.

Wisp’s projections returned twice more, the most ambitious taking a token to the twenty-eighth floor. Four full floors ahead of the other two projections. However, that projection returned only a handful of seconds later, scythe in hand and radiating an aura of cold hostility.

“Great One!” Wisp’s rasp had taken on an intensity and urgency otherwise entirely alien to his character. “I have found the malevolent Spirit!” The blade of his scythe made a high-pitched keening noise as if it had been struck by a tuning fork.

Ophelia’s wings flared to life, momentarily blinding me with their brilliance and intensity. When I regained my sight, she was already gone, and so were the others. Leaving only myself and my Bodyguards.

Snatching up a token to the twenty-eighth floor, I felt a final surge of hesitation. What I intended to do, what I was doing, was stupid and reckless. I knew this. However, I had witnessed firsthand what other Awakened were capable of when they set their minds toward destruction and violence. Failing to act wouldn’t make me complicit, but the decision would no doubt haunt me all my life.

Tightening my fist around the token, I took a deep breath and stepped into the portal.

This was a responsibility I had taken upon myself, and now I was going to see it through.

***** Maera ~ Twenty-Eighth floor ~ Hurst Labyrinth *****

Weary beyond the bounds of her mortal flesh, Maera fought with every scrap of her flagging will just to draw a new breath and continue serving as Conduit. She was dying, had been from the beginning. To serve as Conduit was to die. It was the law of the exchange. The price demanded for power.

Maera could feel her body unravelling, unable to support the immense strain demanded of it.

“I will make it quick,” the thing that was not her father promised, its rotten breath reeking of corruption and a foulness that threatened to steal the final dregs of life from her body.

With an effort Maera believed she no longer possessed, she slowly opened her eyes and locked gazes with the rotting corpse of what had once been her father, and the corrupted Spirit that now inhabited it. “No...” Maera croaked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The once handsome, but now sallow features of her father’s face contorted in fury. “You are thinking this trap will hold me?!” The malevolent Spirit snarled, disgorging small chunks of putrid rotting flesh from the ragged hole torn in her father’s throat. “No! It is failing! We know this!”

“It...It. Doesn’t. Need. To. Hold.” Maera wheezed determinedly, “Just. Last. Enough...”

“No escaping me,” the malevolent Spirit sneered contemptuously. “Just making me HUNGRIER.”

Maera felt the impossible emptiness in its words and nearly collapsed then and there.

<It is nearly done, child.> The voice was calm, familiar, and reassuring. A voice that she had known since infancy. A voice belonging to someone who knew her better than her own parents. <Hold the faith, child, and know that your sacrifice has saved your people.”

“Iris...” Despite the bloody tears running from her eyes, nose and ears, speaking the name of the tribe’s guardian Spirit aloud returned a fleeting sense of vitality even as her body was coming apart at the seams. <You. Will. Fight?> Maera didn’t understand. They had trapped this Spirit because Iris had sworn she was not its equal.

What had changed?

<If it is my part to play.> Iris replied, her words gathering what remained of Maera’s faltering mind and spirit and gently holding them together as best she could. All the while, her very presence within Maera’s body was tearing those same pieces and the mortal shell that housed them apart. <Child, see now, the enemy senses its doom approaching.>

The thing that was not her father had backed away from the barrier and was intensely scanning the surrounding woodland. Broken fingers twitching in anticipation or fear, it scowled and glared at Maera anew. “Let. Me. Out!” It demanded quietly, all the while anxiously glancing at the gathering shadows around them.

<It. Is. Afraid...> Maera couldn’t believe it.

A Spirit so powerful that it had managed to overwhelm the entire circle of elders, more powerful than Iris, was afraid?

<Such a corrupted soul knows little else, child.> Iris answered softly. <However, I too feel fear in facing what approaches us. And yet, I find comfort in knowing their intent lies not with the tribe, nor even you, child.> “They come for you.” Maera said aloud in a voice not her own, her blood-caked lips parting into a victorious smile.

“LET ME OUT!” The malevolent Spirit howled, the rotten limbs of its stolen vessel tearing apart and distending to reveal black oozing pitch seething beneath the surface. “LET! ME! OUT!”

Unsure and uncaring who was responsible, Maera laughed and drew the bindings of the prison tighter. Every second she held the Spirit in place brought its pursuers that much closer and while Maera had precious little left to give, she had nothing else left to lose.

<This is not the destiny I envisioned for you, child.> Iris apologised graciously. <And yet, you have exceeded all expectations. I will remember your name, Maera, daughter of Maia and Icarion.>

“I! SAID! LET! ME! OUT!” The malevolent Spirit screamed in rage, now towering over Maera in the grotesque remnants of what had once been her father’s corpse.

Flesh as black as midnight and with limbs as crooked as tree branches, the thing stooped with a hunched back glaring at Maera with empty soulless eyes and wide yawning mouth full of long needle-like teeth.

“Everyone you love. Everyone you know.” Its face drew closer, coming within less than an inch of the barrier. “I. Will. Eat. Them. All.” A pale bloated tongue slithered over its lips and teeth, leaving streaks of dark pus and blood.

Maera knew it would cost her, but she was past caring. Through Iris, she could sense other Spirits drawing nearer. Even if she collapsed the barrier then and there, it would make little difference now. “No,” Maera wheezed spitefully, her grin so wide she could feel the fragile skin of her lips tearing apart.

With an abominable shriek, the thing lashed out, crashing its misshapen twisted limbs against the Barrier with all the force and fury it could muster.

Once. Twice. Thrice. The Barrier held, each time chipping away at Maera’s faltering vitality. On the fourth strike, Maera felt the final piece of herself collapse, no longer able to support the strain demanded of the Conduit.

As the final fragments of her consciousness disintegrated, Maera had one final glimpse of the tribe’s guardian Spirit, Iris, flowing out from her body, assuming her true spectral feline form and leaping at the malevolent spirit with claws and teeth bared.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 71 - Exchange and favours - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 71 - Exchange and favours - Part Two

I had sent Sebet and Gric to explore the new territories taken in payment from Yi Gim and gave Hana and Jin the combined alchemy materials in addition to the newly acquired Storage Ring. I then had the manuals sent to the library to have translated copies prepared so I could review their contents for myself.

I decided to keep the most recently acquired territories isolated for the time being. My discussion with Yi Gim had convinced me that deliberately allowing a certain number of energy-rich territories to ‘grow wild’ may be in the best interests of the Cultivators amongst my subjects. Similar to Zod’s Dungeons and my Labyrinth, Territories could be set to contain beasts of a predetermined strength, serving as training for the Cultivators and a source of alchemy materials.

Of course, this meant that I would need to inspect the territories for myself and divide them accordingly.

The new territories were likely to hold far greater levels of ambient energy than those I had taken from the Divine Patriarch. This meant they would also accelerate the development of any Cultivators that remained within for at least a short period of time. However, leaving the territories locked away and giving the beasts time to grow in numbers and strength would accelerate the rate at which the ambient energy would grow.

Opting for a wait-and-see approach, for the time being at least, I decided that it was high time I confronted the pair of imprisoned Awakened within Sebet’s tower. Sebet had made assurances that, while somewhat unstable, neither man presented a credible threat to anyone besides themselves unless sufficiently provoked.

With a thought, I relocated myself to Sebet’s tower and let myself inside, ignoring the guards who were falling over themselves in their haste to formally acknowledge my presence.

Descending into the prison beneath the tower, I found the quarters of the fairy after only a few moments of searching. Whether it was a reflection of her sense of humour, or having anticipated my arrival, Sebet had painted a butterfly-winged outline of a fairy over the steel bands and wooden planks of the door.

To accommodate the human-sized door, I transformed into my human disguise. Before unbarring the door, I took a few moments to better acclimate to the drastic change in size.

Opening the door, I was somewhat surprised to find the room beyond was relatively well furnished. Less a prison and more akin to moderately priced accommodations at a reputable inn.

A young man with dark hair sat in the middle of the room. Stripped to the waist and wearing nothing else besides linen boxers, the young man sat before a painting easel fitted with a blank canvas.

Looking over his shoulder, it took me a few moments to process the image on the canvas.

Bloody hands clutched at ruptured intestines in the rain, attempting to press them back inside the stomach of a young man in a blackened bloodstained uniform, half submerged in a pool of bloody mud and water.

“It’s not finished yet...” The young man commented quietly, dabbing his brush at the blended red paint on the palette held in his left hand. “I’ll set it aside like the others when I’m done...”

I looked around the room for a second time but saw no signs of another painting.

“Was there something you...wanted...” The young man had turned to look over his shoulder and appeared confused by my presence. “Who are you?” He asked, almond-shaped eyes narrowing slightly with concern. “You aren’t supposed to be here...”

“We have met before,” I replied, “Although I don’t recall exchanging names at the time.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down pal...” The young man frowned and looked pointedly toward the door. “I can’t promise I’ll forget you were here, but the longer you stay, the more trouble you will be in,” he warned.

“I doubt it,” I replied calmly.

The young man was about to say something else but stopped. He appeared confused. “You sound familiar...”

“I would say the same, but except for the American accent, that would be a lie.” I hadn’t expected to find the fairy in human form and the change in scale had drastically changed his voice. “I’m the one who found you in that Dungeon,” I prompted, deliberately deepening my voice.

The young man’s eyes widened in surprise, “You! You’re the Aussie!”

I nodded. “I am, although I go by Tim.”

“Daniel, erm, Dan,” the young man replied hurriedly, setting aside his brush and paints. He smiled nervously and extended his right hand.

I extended my own and gave his hand a firm shake in greeting.

“I uh, thought you were taller?” Dan joked nervously, “And paler too.”

“This is just temporary,” I replied with a smirk. “This room would be uncomfortably cramped for the both of us otherwise.”

“I guess it would, hehe,” Dan scratched at the nape of his neck and began to fidget. “So, uh...Why are you here? Aren’t you some sort of bigshot?”

“I came to talk with you,” I admitted, “To see if you could be reasoned with.”

Dan seemed confused.

“Do you remember what we spoke about in the Dungeon?” I asked, guiding the conversation.

Dan nodded.

“You seem much more stable,” I observed while deliberately avoiding looking at the painting.

Dan cringed slightly in response. “I don’t think I can take credit for that...”

I shrugged. “Assigning credit wasn’t the cause for raising the subject,” I clarified. “I wanted to speak with you and gain a better understanding of your character. Judging you at your worst holds a certain degree of relevance, but mostly only if you had remained that way.”

Dan furrowed his brow slightly in response. “I’m being judged?...” He asked cautiously.

“Assessed would be a better word for it,” I amended. “To see whether you can be trusted to leave this tower and-”

“I don't want to leave!” Dan interrupted, backing away defensively and nearly toppling the easel in the process.

“You don’t?” I asked, caught off guard by the unexpected response.

“The Devil! She said I could stay here as long as I wanted!” Dan exclaimed with an increasingly manic tone of voice.

I took three slow and deliberate steps back toward the door. “I never intended to force you to leave. Only to determine if you could.” Seeing I had done more damage than good, I saw myself out. “If there comes a time where you change your mind, just say as much to Sebet. I’ll return then.”

Closing the door, I saw Dan sit down on the bed and bury his face in his hands. I felt a profound sense of pity for the man and decided to leave him be. PTSD treatment and rehabilitation were outside of my skill set, so I had to trust that Sebet knew what she was doing. Or rather, that her motives and methods were at least nominally in his best interests.

Leaving the prison, I used my authority to guide me to the second Awakened.

Unlike Dan, Terry had been given a considerable degree of freedom after swearing oaths of fealty and obedience to the laws. However, he was still restricted to the territory until a small number of conditions were met to my satisfaction.

Specifically, Terry needed to change his Class, increase his Willpower, and demonstrate he could control his bestial alter-ego to the point that it wouldn’t slip out of its own accord.

Wandering the training grounds beneath the shadow of Sebet’s tower, I found Terry stripped to the waist and lifting free weights apart from the other men and women training on the grounds.

After what had happened with Dan, I chose to continue observing from a distance for a while longer.

Abandoning the weights, Terry began punching and kicking a half-buried log that served as a crude alternative for a punching bag.

Without warning, his hands and fingers turned to claws and Terry began slashing at the log instead.

Despite the savagery of Terry’s attacks, the intense focus in his eyes and the strict rhythm of his strikes made it clear that he was still very much in control.

For an hour, Terry slowly rotated his position around the log, carving at its face more or less equally on each face. However, instead of striking through what remained of the core, Terry caught himself and backed away, changing his claws back into human hands once more.

Panting heavily and slick with sweat, Terry nodded grimly to himself and pushed the upper portion of the log, snapping the core and driving the broken portion safely to the ground before turning on the portion still buried at his feet. Transforming his hands into claws again, Terry knelt down, anchored them into the log and heaved. Making sure to lift with his legs and not his back, the submerged portion of the log came free seemingly without effort.

Dropping the lower half alongside its fellow, Terry sat on the log and continued panting, his long brown hair hanging wetly around his face as it absorbed his sweat.

Seeing an opportunity, I made my approach.

I had only taken a few steps before Terry lifted his head and looked directly at me from across the grounds. In and of itself, this was not particularly surprising or noteworthy. Awakened had a way of identifying one another that transcended traditional means.

His current Species, Moonsoul Lycan, had Feral Senses, which enhanced his senses to the same levels otherwise present during his transformed state. So there was also a decent chance that Terry had recognised me by sense of smell.

Closing the distance between us at a casual pace, I remained very much aware of Terry’s unblinking stare.

Unarmed and unarmoured as we both were, I suspected thoughts of violence must have entered his mind, even if they were fleeting. Emulating the physical form of a Human, I was certainly at my weakest. However, it did not make me weak. I suspected Terry knew this as well.

I conjured a bucket of water from the washroom inside of the tower and set it down on the ground between us as a gift. “Hello, Terry. Are you doing well?” I asked, taking care to watch for signs his control may slip.

Terry gratefully took up the bucket and upended it over his head and back, gulping down a few mouthfuls of the cool clean water in the process. Setting the bucket aside, Terry rose to his feet and looked me straight in the eyes, revealing intense silver-blue irises. “Doing better,” he grunted somewhat shortly before clearing his throat and taking a deep calming breath. “I am doing better, thanks for asking.”

“Have you settled on a class?” I asked curiously, not attempting to conceal my interest.

Terry slowly shook his head and cast his eyes downward in visible disappointment and frustration. “None of them have Willpower,” he complained bitterly. “Any that do, require it to begin with!”

I nodded in understanding.

I had already reviewed Terry’s Status and confirmed the state of his Willpower and the Classes he had unlocked thus far. However, his opinions and feelings on the matter were part of the test.

“But I can see your level of control has increased significantly from the effort,” I noted, giving credit where it was due.

Terry smiled briefly but quickly frowned again. “Another year and I might be able to stop it from getting out entirely...”

“That isn’t one of the conditions, Terry,” I interjected firmly.

Terry looked at me in confusion, “You said-”

I struck Terry across the face with an open palm, very nearly dislocating his jaw in the process.

“Wha?!-” Terry staggered, confused but alert. He nearly managed to dodge the returning backhand but wasn’t quite fast enough and caught it on the nose.

I swept his legs out from under him and watched Terry fall to the mud before firmly planting my right foot on his sternum.

Stunned, Terry clawed at my trouser leg in an attempt to throw me off and allow him to breathe.

I removed my foot and stepped back.

Blood running down his face from his broken nose, Terry glared up at me with barely contained fury raging behind his eyes. Dragging himself to his feet, he clenched his fists and leaned in close, leaving less than a finger’s breadth between his face and my own. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” He roared savagely, the lurking presence of his alter ego adding a depth and danger beyond what normal men were capable of.

“Proving a point,” I replied calmly.

“What?!” Terry snarled angrily. “What point?!” He demanded, chest heaving like mighty bellows and sending bloody spittle from his mouth to spatter against my face.

“That your efforts haven’t been a waste. That I can trust you to face violence and not immediately succumb to the desires of your other self.” I made a point of looking downward at his clenched fists.

Terry did the same. However, in his agitated state, it took him several long moments to catch my meaning.

“You didn’t change,” I observed approvingly. “Even after I struck you, made a show of harming and humiliating you, you remained yourself. You remained in control.”

Terry unclenched his muddy fists and stared at his hands in shock. “I...I was in control...” He seemed to be struggling with the reality of the situation and had begun shaking his head in confusion.

“Your old Class held far more responsibility than you might think,” I explained patiently. “Combined with low impulse control and a massive amount of stress, you were a ticking time bomb. However, removing that class, giving you a goal to provide structure, and a safe environment to decompress, has allowed you to make real choices again. Choices beyond mind-melting pain and its absence...” I remembered the pain vividly and understood what it was like to have choices and options stripped down to the barest minimum.

Terry remained silent, but I could see newfound clarity taking shape behind his eyes.

Of course, I chose not to mention the fact that his hesitation may have been attributed partially to a rational part of his brain acting out of self-preservation. Strictly speaking, our confrontation may not have qualified as training, and fighting back may have literally cost his life as a result of his Oaths.

It would have undermined the core point I was making, so I erred on the side of discretion. Besides, as the aggressor, the burden and punishment extracted by the Oaths would have been on me.

Provided they applied to me in the first place...

Waiting for Terry to collect himself, I conjured a barrel of water so he would be able to clean off the worst of the mud and dirt.

Wetting my hand, I wiped off the blood from my face and chest. Such things didn’t bother me as much as they used to, but I didn’t have much else to do and decided to make the most of the opportunity.

“Now, I just need a Class. Right?” Terry asked hesitantly. “Something that will increase my Willpower. Then I’m free, right?”

“You have met my conditions already, but I would appreciate the gesture,” I replied supportively.

“Really?” Terry looked up at me in surprise. “I could leave? Right now?”

“If that’s what you want. You have sworn the Oaths and put in the effort. I’m a man of my word, and you are free to leave whenever you decide you are ready.” It wasn’t a test in so many words, but I had a task and an opportunity for Terry, provided he was willing to take it.

“There’s something you aren’t telling me...” Terry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“The others, the Lesser Lycans the Confederates were using as shock troops. We have captured many of them, taken control over their Slave Bonds just as I did with yours,” I explained patiently. “I want to rehabilitate them, but I can’t. At least, not without your help.”

Terry scrunched his face in confusion. “Why would you need my help?” He demanded warily.

“I am just another Master, another Slaver, in their eyes. Many have been pushed too far, seen too much...Been forced to do things they cannot reconcile with...” I released a deep sigh and motioned for Terry to clean himself up. “As damaged as you are, as damaged as you believe yourself to be, somehow, I managed to reach you...” I took a few moments to gather my thoughts. “There are thousands of them, Terry. We have tried helping them, but we can’t reach them. We, I, need someone they can look up to, someone they can trust.” I stared Terry straight in the eyes. “I want you to help me save them.”

Terry baulked. “I’m no saviour!-”

“I know...” I agreed calmly. “I just...I need you to show them that there is a way out...Show them that if they put in the work, they can rebuild their lives...”

Terry had been backing away but now he hesitated. “Why do you care?” He demanded quietly. “Why run around saving people when they don’t owe you anything?!”

“It’s how I was raised,” I replied calmly.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Terry snarled incredulously. “You’re seriously going to stand there and tell me that you do all this just because your parents told you to?! That it has nothing to do with being king and lording over-”

“Parent,” I corrected.

“What?!” Terry lost his momentum as he tried to take in what I had said.

“Parent, singular,” I elaborated. “My mum raised me on her own.”

“How does that make any difference!” Terry demanded.

“Because she wasn’t much older than I am now when she found a half-starved and deathly dehydrated infant abandoned in the garbage and decided to take on a responsibility the infant's own mother had refused...” I tried my best to keep my voice steady but couldn’t quite manage it. “I exist because my mother chose to make her life more difficult. Because she decided to change another person’s life for the better.”

Terry averted his eyes. “I...I didn’t...” He muttered stiffly through his clenched jaw.

“I’m not asking for your pity, Terry. I just want you to think things over before making your decision,” I explained quietly. “Our actions have consequences, and so does our choice of inaction.” I turned to leave.

“Wait...” Terry hissed reluctantly. “I’m not the right person for this...You know that...”

“Maybe,” I agreed. “But we won’t know for certain if you won’t try.”

Terry remained silent.

“I would have preferred you volunteered before offering the reward,” I admitted with a sigh. “However, if it helps you make up your mind, so be it.”

“Reward?” Terry commented suspiciously.

“To give you the best chance of reaching those in most urgent need of your help, I will give you the means to Evolve further and provide a title to unlock a Class that will adapt and change alongside you.” Looking over my shoulder, I was gratified to see an expression of stunned confusion on Terry’s face. “Each Species has a leadership caste and Evolution that makes them the literal default leaders of their Species. If we are lucky, you will unlock such an Evolution for yourself.”

“What? Why? I’m not a leader-” Terry protested.

“I know...” I admitted. “But the Evolution carries benefits that will compensate for it. Trust me.”

Terry shook his head. “You’re assuming I can even unlock the damned thing in the first place,” he countered.

“Terry...You remember what I said about the Labyrinths, what they want us to do?” I prompted.

Terry nodded.

“The Abilities of the leadership caste Evolutions multiply the destructive potential of an Awakened with each subject of their Species the Awakened can gather. The destructive potential is completely insane...” I slowly shook my head and sighed. “Now tell me that doesn’t sound like something the Labyrinths wouldn’t try to rig as a desired outcome?”

Terry flinched but quickly rallied. “You’re the only one who keeps banging on about the Labyrinths,” he countered. “For all I know, you could have lied about everything!”

“That’s true,” I agreed impassively. “I could also be wrong,” I pressed, surprising Terry further. “But what do you have to lose?”

Terry remained silent.

“I’m not going to lie to you Terry,” I promised. “Because the adaptive Classes take on parts of the other Classes you have previously unlocked. There is a chance that -”

“Those other Abilities will come back...” Terry interjected dryly, shifting uncomfortably and still refusing to meet my gaze.

I nodded.

A long silence passed between us and Terry appeared to arrive at a decision.

“I’ll do it...” Terry agreed, his voice laden with reluctance, hesitation and a not-inconsiderable amount of fear.

I had become increasingly worried that he would refuse. So Terry’s response came as quite a welcome surprise.

Sparing a few moments to allow Terry to clean himself up, I relocated the both of us into the swamp.

“At this point, it’s seen as something of a tradition,” I explained, offering Terry a large Taming Collar.

“You’re joking...” Terry insisted, eyeing the nearby partially submerged log that wasn’t really a log.

I shook my head. “Children have done this,” I added, stretching the truth somewhat.

“No way...” Terry scoffed. “Kids have really wrestled crocs and gators?!”

“Wrestled and tamed,” I corrected. “Yeah, they have. It’s actually far safer than you think. So long as you don’t take unnecessary risks-”

Terry gave me a deadpan stare.

“Just wait for it to leave the water first, and remember that the jaw muscles are far weaker at opening than they are at closing,” I warned, giving the same advice I gave everyone else.

“This feels so needlessly dangerous...” Terry complained, shaking himself to limber up.

“It is,” I agreed. “Which is why it's considered something of a right of passage amongst the teens and young adults.”

“Fuck me...” Terry cursed, taking several steps back as the Swamp Lurker began clawing its way up the bank.

“If you want, I could immobilise it for you?” I offered.

Terry said nothing and continued watching the Swamp Lurker as it ever so slowly stalked closer. “You said kids do this? You weren’t lying?” He asked nervously.

“When we visit Sanctuary proper, you will struggle to find a teen over three feet in height without some form of pet,” I replied honestly. “With the Goblins and Kobolds, it’s closer to a hundred percent.” I used my hand to roughly represent the height of said individuals.

“Fuuuuuck...” Terry groaned and lowered himself into a tackling stance.

“I’ll bait it for you,” I volunteered, moving forward with a confidence that surprised even myself. I had done as much as a hundred times or more, often for small children and going so far as to physically clamp the jaws shut on their behalf.

“I uh, I guess this is the sort of thing you Aussies do all the time, eh?” Terry observed nervously while trailing a couple of steps behind me and to the right.

“Oh hell no!” I replied, glancing at Terry from the corner of my eye while keeping an eye on the Swamp Lurker. “People who do that sort of thing are crazy! Saltwater crocs are fucking dangerous!”

Terry nearly tripped on a root but managed to catch himself.

“Don’t give me that look,” I demanded. “Danger is relative. Things are different in this world!” I leapt forward, provoking the Swamp Lurker into a lunge aimed at my left arm before hurriedly turning to the side.

The Swamp Lurker’s jaws clacked harmlessly closed and it whipped its head to the side as fast as it was able to make sure I stayed within its sights.

“I’d do it now!” I suggested, unable to stop myself from smiling as I nodded toward the hissing jaws of the Swamp Lurker.

Terry took a firm grip on his rope and grimaced.

I waved my hand through the danger zone, provoking the Swamp Lurker into snapping again and keeping its attention focused solely on me.

Terry leapt forward, slamming bodily onto the back of the Swamp Lurker, winding himself in the process. However, he persevered and grappled the Swamp Lurker’s mouth shut and fumbled the noose over its snout and lower jaw. In a frenzy of adrenaline, Terry frantically wrapped the rope around its jaws until he nearly ran out of rope and lost his handhold.

“Forget the rope!” I called out in warning. “Get the collar on!”

Terry was nearly thrown off the Swamp Lurker’s back as it began to thrash in earnest.

Stepping in, I took hold of the loosening ropes and slammed the Swamp Lurker’s head into the mud. Still, in my Human form, it was an odd experience to merely stun the Beast instead of killing it outright. “The collar!” I repeated, lifting the Swamp Lurker’s head and preparing to slam it again if Terry wasn’t fast enough.

More frantic than before, Terry somehow managed to slip one end of the collar under the Swamp Lurker’s Head. After fumbling with the straps for a few moments, he managed to slip the tongue through the buckle and snap it shut.

All at once, it was over.

“Chil-dren-do-this?” Terry panted breathlessly, rolling off the Tamed Swamp Lurker and into the recently mixed mud beside it.

“They do,” I grinned. “But they practise on the Tamed ones first.”

“You-fuck-ker!” Terry swore with a manic grin on his face.

I pulled the rope off of the Swamp Lurker’s jaws and then helped Terry to his feet.

“Now what?” Terry wheezed, rubbing at his chest and wincing painfully.

“If you don’t want to keep him,” I motioned to the Swamp Lurker off-handedly, “You can always sell it or give it away to one of the hunter families.”

“What?” Terry looked confused. “You mean, after all that, I should just give it away?” He demanded incredulously.

“Do you want a pet croc?” I asked sceptically. “You haven’t even sorted out your new living arrangements yet, and they need a fair amount of space.”

“I...well...no...” Terry looked down at the obedient Swamp Lurker and frowned. “It’s just...After all that...Giving it away...it feels weird...”

I shrugged. “You get used to it.”

Terry grunted noncommittally.

Walking back toward Sanctuary, I pointed out the different families of hunters moving about the swamplands.

“Why are they staring at us like that?” Terry asked nervously.

“Not many Humans are allowed near Sanctuary, and fewer still are allowed inside,” I replied.

“But we aren’t human...” Terry challenged, “Not really.”

“They don’t know that,” I countered. “But it’s fine, one of the Daemons will let us in.”

“Demons?” Terry looked concerned for all of three seconds before shrugging it off. “There’s a Devil, so why not demons?” He muttered to himself. “Next you’re gonna tell me there are angels too,” he snorted derisively.

I said nothing.

“You’re joking...” Terry gasped incredulously. “Are you fucking serious right now?!”

I nodded. “Orphiel and Ophelia. Technically, they are Fallen Angels, but there are regular Angels out there somewhere.”

“Fucking hell...” Terry swore.

“Does that mean...you know?” Terry glanced uncomfortably toward the sky.

“What?” I asked, uncertain what he was talking about.

“Is God real?” Terry whispered with a paranoid glint in his eye.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” I replied indifferently. “If God does exist, I haven’t seen any evidence of it. But this could just as easily be a forest for the trees kind of situation, you know?”

Terry took a few moments to think it over and nodded.

Approaching the checkpoint, Terry and I took our place in line behind the traders and visiting dignitaries.

“Couldn’t we just skip the line?” Terry whispered.

“We could,” I agreed offhandedly. “But you wouldn’t get the full experience otherwise.”

“Like if I practised on a tamed croc first?” Terry asked, narrowing his eyes and glaring accusingly.

I nodded, taking no offence and accepting no guilt.

Terry frowned. “Why does it matter?”

I gathered my thoughts and seriously considered the question. “I want you to appreciate what I have built,” I replied evenly. “Appreciate why things are the way they are.”

“And wrestling a giant crocodile is meant to help with that?’ Terry asked uncertainly.

“A little,” I agreed. “Most of the monsters within Sanctuary are tribals. Hunting and gathering what they need from the environment was a way of life for them.”

“Was?” Terry interjected.

“Progress marches on,” I replied. “To increase their quality of life, and avert a handful of disasters in the making, I had to introduce them to certain aspects of modern civilization.”

“And by modern you mean,” Terry paused and gave me a conspicuous look, “Modern.”

“Mhm,” I nodded, deliberately ignoring the people ahead of and behind us.

The key to hiding in plain sight, or so I had learned, was to act as if nothing strange was transpiring in the first place.

“Sanctuary has schools, a hospital, and an impressive library donated largely by the Asrusians,” I explained with a small measure of pride. “And yet, families continue to hunt, just as they always have.”

Terry was about to say something in reply, perhaps even ask another question. However, he quickly fell silent.

Following his gaze toward the checkpoint, it quickly became obvious why.

Easily five times the size of the nearest wagons and with shimmering amber scales, Dar watched the procession pass him by with intense focus. Two pairs of reptilian eyes glared intensely at everything that moved, while a third pair were set upon Terry and myself.

I let Terry stew a little before choosing to explain things. “That’s Dar, one of the Daemons I was talking about.”

Wide-eyed, Terry didn’t seem able to stop himself from staring. “He’s fucking huge...”

I nodded in agreement. “About half Ushu’s size now, I think. Although Dar’s definitely heavier.”

“Ushu? Is that another demon?” Terry asked distractedly.

“Hehe, no,” I chuckled, unable to stop myself. “Ushu’s a Dragon.”

Terry very nearly tripped over his own feet. “You’re serious?!”

I nodded, smiling to myself.

“And we will get to see it?!” Terry whispered excitedly.

“Almost certainly,” I confirmed. “If you play your cards right, you might be able to convince Dhizi or Copper to give you a ride.”

“Dhizi? Cooper?” Terry looked at a loss again.

“Dhizi’s a...Wyvern?” I scratched at my chin and realised I hadn't checked her Status in quite a while. “Anyway, Cooper is Ushu’s daughter, and far cheaper to bribe into offering rides.”

Terry was still mulling things over when it was our turn at the checkpoint.

I conjured a roasted Swamp Lurker and dropped it in front of Dar. “A snack to help tide you over,” I chuckled, rubbing his scaly jaw as he curled his long tongue around the Swamp Lurker and swallowed it whole.

“PRO-CEDE,” Dar chuffed happily, slowly waving and undulating his long crocodilian tail.

“I’ll see you later,” I promised, giving his jaw a good thump and earning a meaty rumbling hiss of happiness in return.

With Dar having the final say over who could pass through the checkpoint, the guards let us through without challenge. Although I was fairly certain one of the younger Human guards recognised my Human alter ego.

“That thing was acting like a giant puppy...” Terry whispered incredulously.

“His name is Dar,” I insisted, shooting Terry a warning glare. “And yeah, he kinda is. Most of the Daemons are like that underneath it all. They're just kids really.”

“You're joking!” Terry demanded.

“Nope,” I shook my head determinedly. “Monster kids mature differently to people. It’s weird to deal with sometimes.”

“That’s what’s weird to deal with?” Terry commented incredulously. “Not, say, the fact that guy is like a hundred times your size?!”

“Eh,” I waved Terry off dismissively. “The whole size thing isn’t as big a deal as you may think. Besides, smaller Daemons can be just as dangerous...” I felt an involuntary shudder as I thought of Ril.

Meeting another Daemon at the second checkpoint, we passed into Sanctuary proper.

“That one was...different...” Terry commented distractedly.

“Senn?” I nodded in agreement, “She tends to know what she wants and won’t apologise for it. Not much of a team player, but she has an independent streak. Which has its advantages.”

Terry was going to say something else but became distracted as a group of Elves passed us by on their way to the orchards.

“Were those elves?!” Terry hissed, eyes wide with awe and a hint of lust.

“They are,” I replied calmly. “You didn’t see many kinds of humanoid monsters until now?”

Terry hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. “Nothing that looked so human, just...what's the word? Mostly human, you know?”

“Like the Gnolls?” I nodded toward a small pack of female Gnolls on their way to the merchant district to sell their wares.

“Yeah, like them,” Terry agreed.

“Anthropomorphic,” I replied. “It means having human characteristics.”

“Right...besides the others, all I remember fighting are monsters like that,” Terry commented quietly. “Them and ordinary people...” Darkness passed behind his eyes but gradually disappeared.

We passed a small lake that was set aside for communal leisure, allowing Terry to witness a broad cross-section of Sanctuary’s monstrous population.

One of the Goblin teens approached us directly. “Can have?” She asked sweetly, pointing to the Swamp Lurker and flashing a smile that held an alarming higher ratio of tooth than it did smile.

Confused and uncertain about what to do, Terry looked to me for help.

I shrugged. “If you don’t want him, now’s the chance to pass it along.”

The Goblin girl’s smile widened. “Yes, Teek take!” She agreed animatedly.

Still uncertain, Terry hesitated.

The Goblin warily glanced over her shoulder and back at her friends who were watching proceedings with avid interest. “Teek give thing!” She offered, pulling a small iron spinning top from a large single pocket that covered her stomach. The Goblin, Teek, critically assessed Terry’s reaction for signs of interest before replacing the spinning top in the pocket and fishing out another item.

This repeated several times before Terry accepted a Swamp Lurker tooth necklace.

After coaching Terry through the transfer process, we both watched as Teek giddily rode her newly acquired pet back toward her friends. Once the Swamp Lurker reached the water, they began taking turns, three at a time, riding the Swamp Lurker around the lake.

“Did I just get ripped off?” Terry asked, dubiously inspecting his newly acquired necklace.

“Given you didn’t pay for the taming collar in the first place?” I qualified. “No, I’d say you’re definitely ahead overall.”

“That’s...not what I meant...” Terry muttered, flushing slightly with embarrassment. “I mean, it just feels like I sold the family cow for a handful of magic beans...”

I shrugged. “It’s all relative,” I insisted. “If you tried to sell the croc on the open market, I think you would quickly discover that the collar I provided was worth considerably more than the Beast himself.”

“You’re joking,” Terry seemed at a loss. “How could that collar be worth more than that giant murder machine?”

“Because it’s magic, and because it contains the Manastone from a much stronger monster,” I replied matter of factly.

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?!” Terry demanded.

“Because you needed to learn the lesson at some point, and at least this was low stakes compared to what may come later,” I chastised him, refusing to feel guilty over it. “Technically, all you have done is trade something of mine for a neat keepsake.”

“Assuming we ignore the whole life or death croc wrestling in the swamp...” Terry replied, deadpan.

“You’re making it out to be a much bigger deal than it was,” I sighed. “At worst, you might have dislocated one of your arms before I could step in.”

“You’re being serious right now?” He demanded incredulously.

“I am,” I agreed neutrally. “Again, I will remind you that things are different here. Wrestling and Taming Swamp Lurkers is not the life or death struggle you are making it out to be.”

Terry scowled. “You’re telling me, that if you had a kid-”

“I do,” I interjected.

“What?” Terry looked confused.

“I do have a kid,” I repeated. “Two actually, twins.”

Terry stared at me for several moments before seeming to regain a grip on his earlier momentum. “Right, well, you’re saying you would be totally okay with one of your kids wrestling one of those crocs out in the swamp?!”

“I would,” I replied calmly.

“Bullshit!” Terry swore.

“I think you might understand why once you have met them,” I cautioned.

Terry’s scowl deepened. “Fuck...” His anger ebbed and I could only guess that he realised how poor a comparison he had unintentionally made.

Even though he was not to know for certain, Terry had to have guessed at how large Pete and Suzy would have to be, given they were my children. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face and remind him of this conversation after we entered The Grove and realised just how much damage Suzy could do to a wild Swamp Lurker without even realising it.

***** Lash ~ Tim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Sanctuary *****

Hosting a small gathering had been Tim’s idea, but Lash was finding that she was enjoying herself far more than she had originally expected.

“He utterly adores you, you know?” Jacque, the pale-skinned and auburn-haired mate of the Asrusian Regent commented with a sigh. “You and your kids.”

Lash smiled, appreciating the unasked-for compliment.

“And what huge monsters they are!” Jacque chuckled, waving past the table of food and drinks and toward the children playing hide and find in a small fortress nearby. “They look about as big as Tim when I first met him!”

“Really?” Lash took a moment to think back and found herself nodding in agreement. It made her happy knowing that Pete and Suzy wouldn’t be found wanting for potential mates once they matured.

“Hehe, that’s what I like about you,” Jacque chuckled, downing another fermented juiced fruit drink. “Everything’s so simple and uncomplicated. You appreciate things for what they are!”

Before Lash could acknowledge the compliment, the Werrian Queen, Katia, imposed herself into the conversation. “I quite agree. The children of the Tyrant and Tyrantess are so full of vigour! If my own children were not so old, I would perhaps dare to propose a match!”

“She means she would try to marry them off,” Jacque explained, helping herself to a wedge of cheese. “Which is a little strange, given the way monsters were treated in the empire. Wouldn’t you say?” She directed the last toward the Queen.

“Not at all,” Katia replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It is only natural to learn from one’s mistakes and move forward.”

“Hrm...Is it?” Jacque challenged casually.

“It is,” Katia insisted and then turned to Lash. “Now that the subject has been raised. If I may be so bold, may I ask what the Tyrant’s intentions are regarding the wild Ogres recruited from the Hurst Labyrinth?”

“Bloody hell,” Jacque swore, “That’s about as subtle as a brick through a window. If you are going to ask for something just ask. You might pull one over on Lash because she doesn’t know all the tricks yet-"Jacque turned and looked up at Lash, “-No offence intended, I think you're great!” She turned back to Queen Katia and pointed an accusatory finger at her chest. “But do you really think Tim won’t hear about it? And if you think something like this could be manoeuvred without him or one of his Daemons looking in on it, I have a bridge I want to offload for cheap!”

“What does she want?” Lash asked guardedly, trusting in the intentions of Tim’s friend and former companion.

“She wants to marry off some war widows to the wild Ogres,” Jacque replied candidly. “Thinks it will make Tim, and to a lesser extent, you, think more fondly of them for it. Like they are doing you a favour, and that the shared ancestry of the next generation will win them some political points.”

“Just like the Asrusians with the Orcs?” Queen Katia interjected eyes narrowed at Jacque and hard like iron.

Jacque scowled right back. “You think just because I warm the Regent’s bed that I will defend the decisions of his bannermen?” She downed another cup of fermented juiced fruit. “You’re damned right I will! But I’m not gonna pretend it’s all out of the goodness of their hearts either. Tim wouldn’t trust me if I went around telling convenient half-truths all the time. Especially given how angry he gets when he learns he’s been lied to! Far better to go with an ugly truth and state your case!”

Lash nodded in agreement. If there was one thing Tim hated, it was being lied to.

There was a great deal that he had shown he could forgive, given enough time. But being lied to wasn’t one of them.

Queen Katia pursed her lips and took a deep breath to calm herself. Smiling again, she looked up at Lash. “I will readily admit, there is a component of self-interest-”

Jacque rolled her eyes.

“-However, it is the intention of the King that such an effort will assist in integrating the Semenovian people more firmly under the Tyrant’s rule. Prejudices will no doubt take generations to resolve themselves, but bold action now may save a considerable degree of time later. “Queen Katia paused and took a deep breath as if preparing herself for battle. “As I am sure the Tyrantess is aware, my people lost many menfolk to the ravages of the Liche and its undead hordes. Leaving widows who now struggle to support themselves and their families. Your ways, your culture, is different to ours. Motherhood and the home are cherished roles for our women, and they are ill-prepared to face  wild Beasts to feed themselves and their families.”

Jacque grimaced, “She has a point there...” She acknowledged with visible reluctance. “Werrians are a pretty traditional lot, to begin with, and Semenovians are even more so.”

Queen Katia was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected support but quickly rallied. “My husband, the King, has drafted a petition requesting resettlement of willing monsters within our lands, wild or otherwise.”

“It will be absolutely fucked for biodiversity,” Jacque commented with a sigh, “But it’s not a bad idea otherwise. And Tim’s been dithering over what to do with the wild ones for ages.”

Lash nodded in agreement. Military service had just been a measure to buy himself time. There was no actual plan on what to do with the wild monsters and the Thralls once their service ended. Just a vague idea of letting them go and find their own way.

“I will talk to Tim,” Lash decided. Seeing no downside to discussing the matter. Tim would agree or he wouldn’t.

“My thanks, Tyrantess!” Queen Katia pulled at the sides of her long dress and bowed in the strange way that most of the human women did.

A small grey-skinned child with ghost-white hair peeked out from beneath the table.

Without even looking, Jacque knocked an apple off of the table and into his waiting hands. “Being so small, it really does feel like he’s cheating,” she chuckled, glancing toward Pete, Suzy and Eg who were still searching the small fortress.

The grey-skinned child waved shyly at Lash and she waved back. He really was a cute little thing, but certainly frail by comparison. She couldn’t begrudge him making the most of his limited advantage.

Not when the other children were easily three or more times his size and ten times his weight.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 71 - Exchange and favours - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 71 - Exchange and favours - Part One

Watching proceedings from the opposite end of the small island, I was reminded of the question I had deliberately avoided during our last meeting four days prior.

What was at the top of the Labyrinths?

I had already pushed the absolute limits on how far I was willing to trust a stranger. A stranger with incentives to see me dead and take everything I had. However, economic co-dependence was a powerful motivational tool in its own right. Now that we had a better understanding of how we could both profit from one another without the need for aggressive overtures, I felt confident that I could press for answers without triggering an irreparable diplomatic incident.

Of course, I was assuming Yi Gim had the answers I was looking for.

I had defeated the Divine Patriarch, Yi Gim’s long-term rival, which presumably placed me on at least a similar level of combat capabilities as Yi Gim himself. And I was as far from reaching the top of a Labyrinth as I had ever been.

I was also assuming that our Labyrinths would be the same, despite little evidence to support such a theory.

<Judging by how possessively his niece is clutching at your gift, I believe you have made the right choice, Great One.> Sebet praised with unapologetic and painfully blatant sycophantry.

The efforts of her clones had met with unexpected difficulties in recruiting local bandits to serve as cover and misdirection in their plan to free Enslaved Ogres en masse.

Put bluntly, someone seemed to be aware of what they were trying to do and was taking steps to eliminate every bandit hideout, haven and bolthole within striking distance of the country’s borders.

With each failure, it became increasingly apparent that outright military intervention would be required. Causing Sebet’s potential contributions in the matter to decrease in equal measure.

Not that I blamed them for it. Sebet and her clones’ failures were not from a lack of effort.

<My Tyrant, the trade representative of Monarch Yi Gim has requested payment involving the exchange of dimensional territories.> Gric reported dutifully. <The Monarch is willing to negotiate, but not with me.>

<Very well.> I replied, pleasantly surprised by the opportunity to gain even a single territory without the need to fight for it.

I made my approach toward the centre of the small sandy island with Sebet dutifully following a short distance behind me.

Yi Gim did likewise. However, his grand-niece was practically champing at the bit, earnestly matching pace with her Monarch in what surely would have been considered a serious breach of impropriety. The fact that Yi Gim did nothing to correct her behaviour was not necessarily a bad thing. If our places were reversed, I may have kept a tighter leash on Pete or Suzy’s behaviour. However, my actions would have been motivated by caution and concern.

The fact that Yi Gim allowed his grand-niece such latitude was probably due to a combination of pride and confidence in his own abilities and position to protect her. That, or it was a ploy to demonstrate a deliberate lack of formality to make himself more approachable and set himself apart from our peers.

Like a CEO wearing upscale casualwear at a shareholder meeting.

Yi Gim bowed his head slightly in greeting and his grand-niece bowed stiffly at the waist, all the while cradling the small jade pot that contained one of Hana and Jin’s modified midnight lotus flowers.

I nodded in reply and allowed Yi Gim the opportunity to explain himself, despite already being informed by Gric.

Smiling pleasantly, Yi Gim gestured to the jade pot while seeming to take great care with his actions. Possibly fearing they may be mistaken for an attack, or perhaps required by the multiple layers of ceremonial robes and extravagant clothing he was wearing. “I must offer my sincerest thanks for the gift provided to my niece. I must also admit that it is far greater than I had any right to expect. I had thought that perhaps my gift would prove too much, but now I fear that it will pale in comparison...” He shrugged self-deprecatingly and produced an ornately carved wooden case the size of his palm from within the left sleeve of his robes.

<There is something alive within that container.> Sebet warned.

Yi Gim offered the case with both hands. “A rare Abyssal Serpent egg,” he explained courteously. “As an aquatic celestial beast, it possesses an innate Water Affinity. I had originally intended to hatch the beast myself. However, the most suitable locations within my realm have proven too dangerous to make the attempt.”

Yi Gim’s innocuous comment initially passed me by as I waved Sebet forward to accept the gift. However, as my mind began forming the words to inquire about the conditions required to hatch the egg, and what care the beast would need, Yi Gim’s words silently ran through my head once more.

“There are places within your realm that are too dangerous for you?” I asked clumsily, prioritising the meat of the question itself over the precise phrasing in my rush to get at the answer.

Yi Gim sighed and nodded. “There are several such locations I dare not enter lightly,” he admitted with a hint of bitterness. “Oh, in my youth, I Conquered many territories. But my realm was young then. However, while I governed and pursued my Cultivation, so too did the beasts, and there is only so much lesser men and women could accomplish on their own. Inevitably, beasts within the most isolated and Chi-rich locations began breaking through to higher levels of Cultivation.” He chuckled wryly and shook his head. “Materials obtained from such beasts are important to the development of future generations of Cultivators, but it is a perilous balancing act. If my presence was detected, it would no doubt trigger a beast wave to descend on nearby cities. Which is a price I do not wish to pay for the sake of my own empowerment and vanity.”

“And you couldn’t just...lock those territories away? Or trade them off to an enemy?” I asked, trying not to reveal my suspicions.

“Walls can only be built so high,” Yi Gim replied, shaking his head and releasing a bitter sigh. “Walls of such scale would lack in the strength necessary to stop or even stall the strongest beasts. So such methods are immensely impractical.” He gave me a commiserating and apologetic smile. “I fear it is a reality you will no doubt need to address in due time. Culling the beasts in their infancy will provide security but at the expense of the resources they would provide. Stagnation is the death of Cultivation and presents a greater threat than the beasts ever could. At least, that has been the prevailing opinion amongst our peers and is one I personally share.”

<The girl wishes to say something.> Sebet nodded toward Yi Gim’s grand-niece.

“You do not agree?” I asked, looking down at the young woman.

“Ah...” Hu Hae looked to her grand-uncle for reassurance and permission.

Yi Gim nodded and motioned for her to answer, seemingly curious to hear her answer for himself.

“Hrm, well, what of the hidden worlds?” Hu Hae asked nervously. “Honoured uncle, you have told me that other realms subsist on the resources obtained from the confines of such treasures...”

“This is true,” Yi Gim agreed. “However, heaven has not seen fit to grace us with such a treasure.”

“They can’t be made?” I raised my right wrist and revealed the Divine Patriarch’s Storage Ring hanging from a thin chain.

Yi Gim just stared blankly at me for several moments before slowly shaking his head. “I am not familiar with the methods of constructing a Spatial Storage Ring, but I can only imagine that the skill and power required to create a hidden world would be many times greater. Comparing one to the other is akin to comparing rafts to warships...”

“And you possess no other means to partition those territories to isolate the danger?” I asked, now all but certain that the differences between our two realms were far greater than I had initially believed.

“Alas, no,” Yi Gim shook his head and shrugged.

I decided to change the subject to cover for my line of questioning. “I was told you wanted to discuss terms of trade,” I prompted.

Yi Gim nodded amiably. “Indeed. The Cultivation materials you have provided have exceeded our initial expectations by a not-inconsiderable margin. Passing up such an opportunity to acquire materials of this quality is unacceptable.” His demeanour intensified tenfold. “Would you be amenable to accepting territory in exchange or perhaps as collateral for a future payment?”

“I am open to negotiation,” I replied while doing my best to avoid sounding overly eager. To avoid revealing that Yi GIm was offering something far in excess of what I had originally wanted.

“I am glad,” Yi Gim smiled appreciatively and turned aside, conjuring a massive table. “I have several territories that, while undeveloped, may prove adequate as compensation...” A large pot of ink appeared on the table. Flourishing his right hand, Yi Gim sent ink flowing across the recessed surface of the table with his Chi. Within a few moments, the ink began taking on familiar forms, representing mountains, forests, plains and roads. “Unlike the wastes that I ceded during our last meeting, these territories hold considerable potential,” he motioned to the far right side of the table with his left hand, drawing my attention to what looked like an expansive mountain range. “These mountains contain several low-quality spiritual jade veins and low-quality ores. I am aware that the jade likely holds little value to you...but perhaps the ores will make this territory worthy of your consideration?”

“What value do spirit ores hold?” I asked, wanting to be sure my assumptions were not misplaced.

The jade itself presented immense value, provided Ochram could refine it into higher grades. But I wasn’t so certain about the ores. Although, technically, the ores were just a different composition of minerals. So Ochram may be able to do the same with them. The Mould Earth Spell, combined with Shape Stone, increased the scope of both Spells. But Ochram possessed senses I did not, so I knew better than to think I could accomplish anything close to what he had done already.

I made a mental note to ask him to try after I returned.

“Weapons and armour forged from such ores more readily accept Chi, allowing them greater durability and a higher efficiency in channelling certain Techniques,” Yi Gim replied happily, no doubt pleased to upsell the value of the territory.

“Can they hold Affinity like the plants? Or are they more neutral, like the jade?” I asked, still uncertain how the natural laws of the alternate system functioned.

Yi Gim smiled wryly and slowly nodded. “Indeed, spiritual ores and metals ‘can’ contain natural Affinities, but it is immensely rare...More often, the ores are artificially impregnated with a desired Affinity from other materials during the smelting process. However, the methods lose significant degrees of the materials’ Affinity during the process...”

“Making naturally occurring Affinities superior,” I observed, increasing the priority of discussing matters with Ochram by several degrees.

“Just so,” Yi Gim agreed. His amiable expression faltered for a moment and his eyes wandered over myself and Sebet, curiosity growing increasingly obvious as he did so. “If I may ask?” He motioned to Sebet’s armour. “Why do you wear armour made of stone? I must admit, I cannot sense any Chi within. Are they perhaps treasures from your world?”

“Not as such...” I replied hesitantly, unsure how much I wanted to trust someone I had spoken with only once before. “I made them with magic or sorcery...I’m not sure what ‘you’ would call it...”

Yi Gim’s eyes widened in surprise and admiration. “Is that how you defeated Chen? Did these sorcerous stone plates turn his Sword Chi?”

“I wore no such armour at the time...” I replied dryly, snuffing out the distant flickering embers of lingering guilt with ruthless pragmatism. The Divine Patriarch had made actionable threats against my family and was responsible for massacring his own people. His memory deserved no pity from me.

Yi Gim’s eyes widened further still, “No armour?...” He had obviously misunderstood my meaning, but I saw no benefit in correcting him. “Apologies, I had forgotten that your unique position would afford certain unforeseen advantages...” He paused and appeared to be thinking things over. “I intend no offence. However, are you a sorcerer then?” Yi Gim asked.

Technically, I supposed I was.

I nodded.

“A sorcerer with such a body...” Yi Gim smiled wryly and shook his head. “Forgiveness, please, but stories from the great war portrayed such individuals as frail or even sickly in constitution. To my eyes, you appear as a warrior in the prime of his life.”

“I am something of an exception,” I replied, readily admitting to the obvious while keeping the details to myself.

“I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge a desire to trade for any unwanted treasures you may possess,” Yi Gim stated with unreserved longing, causing me to wonder what exactly the stories had promised to stoke such desperate yearning.

“Many items would hold little practical value,” I warned, tempering his expectations. If Yi Gim was serious about trading such items, I would prefer not to jeopardise a long-term trade deal over a simple misunderstanding. “Their extreme durability can also be compromised by certain Techniques, and without mana, you would not be able to repair them...” He wouldn’t be able to resize them either, but that was a minor detail in comparison.

“Ah, I see...” Yi Gim’s excitement ebbed somewhat.

“However, assuming the items work as intended within your realm, there are other items that may interest you.” My items had continued to function without issue within the territory of the Challenge, but there were no guarantees that the effects would survive within a Cultivation Monarch’s realm outright. “Resistances to Disease, Poison and the elements, just as an example.”

Yi Gim’s interest grew again. “If the rumours from the highest ranking realms can be trusted, such treasures would be invaluable.”

I was capable of gaining just about any Resistance I wanted through Summoning and Synergies, so I didn’t carry such items. However, Sebet did.

Without being asked, Sebet removed one of the rings decorating her right hand and held it up for all to see. “This is a ring of Lesser Poison Resistance,” she purred. “Its effects, as self-explanatory as they may be, are magnified by the wearer’s Toughness. A child given possession of this ring would easily possess the resilience of a grown man of considerable constitution. Worn by a healthy adult, even the most potent Poison’s effects would be considerably reduced or potentially negated entirely. Of course, Poison should not be mistaken for Venom-” Sebet removed another ring. “-which is why I wear this for Lesser Venom Resistance.”

Yi Gim stared at the rings with unabashed awe and a covetous gleam in his eyes.

“Is your need for such items so great?” I asked warily, disturbed by the implications.

“Need? Ah, perhaps not...” Yi Gim admitted sheepishly, “However, I will admit that certain beasts, Techniques, even entire clans and a few Monarchs, would present a greatly reduced danger with such treasures on hand...”

“Ten territories,” Sebet demanded bluntly, rolling the rings through her fingers with impossible dexterity, speed and flexibility.

The sheer audacity of Sebet’s demand brought my train of consciousness to an abrupt and chaotic halt.

“T-Ten territories?...” Yi Gim gasped, no doubt as incredulous as I was.

“Each,” Sebet amended casually as if it was an afterthought.

“Done!” Yi Gim roared emphatically, very nearly pouncing on Sebet.

Even through my shock, I could feel intense satisfaction radiating from Sebet’s telepathic link to my mind.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 71 - Exchange and favours - 2 of 6

It took several moments for me to overcome Sebet’s sheer audacity. However, once I did, I was forced to admire her initiative. In the span of a few seconds, and at the cost of mere trinkets, Sebet had secured twenty territories.

“Uncle?!” Yi Gim’s niece baulked, expressing the outrage and concern that I had expected from Yi Gim himself.

“Hush Hae’er!” Yi Gim replied firmly, waving her to silent obedience. “This investment has value beyond your understanding. Trust that I know what is best for the realm.”

Hu Hae bowed her head respectfully. “Of course, uncle...”

“See that your esteemed father has Usan province evacuated,” Yi Gim ordered, conjuring a wooden plaque from his Storage Ring and pressing it into her free hand. “You may tell him that there is no cause for alarm and that the costs of relocation will be covered at the expense of the national treasury. Also, express my desire that the relocation be completed with expedience.”

“Yes, uncle,” Hu Hae bowed again and retreated to a discreet distance.

“I expect the territories will be available within four to five hours,” Yi Gim announced cautiously. “I trust this delay will not prove too great an inconvenience?” He asked with an unmistakable hint of nervousness in his voice.

<The Divine Patriarch was only one rival of many.> Sebet explained confidently. <We learned as much from the retainer while he was indisposed. But the value of the items has exceeded my initial expectations. Perhaps the boy had misunderstood the depths of his Monarch’s enmity toward this particular rival?>

I had expected to spend at least some amount of time negotiating and haggling before arriving at a final deal. “I am content to wait,” I replied aloud before turning my attention to the telepathic link. <Which rival?” I pressed sternly, annoyed that Sebet had not informed me of her intentions in advance.

<A Monarch known by the title of the Demon of the Fog.> Sebet explained hurriedly, suitably cowed by the reproach. <She is a Cultivator that is said to specialise in poisons and...and is responsible for crippling Monarch Yi Gim’s first daughter...>

I didn’t know what to say.

Yi Gim conjured further furniture and an assortment of fresh fruits accompanied by bottles of what I assumed was alcohol. Of course, there he didn't have a chair large enough to accommodate my size, so I contented myself by drawing stones from the beach and shaping them into a throne with magic.

I abstained from eating but Yi Gim appeared to take no offence. Most likely, he had expected it.

As time began to drag and small talk grew thin, Yi Gim suggested the inspection of the materials and manuals that had been arranged for trade before they had known the value of what I would offer.

With little else to do to pass the time, I agreed.

Unfortunately, it quickly became obvious that there was little I could engage with directly. I couldn’t read the languages contained within the manuals, and while some of the plants and other materials looked familiar, they were otherwise alien to me.

Irritated, I gathered my MP and Summoned Jin, surprising Yi Gim and his niece in the process.

“Can you identify these materials?” I asked bluntly.

Jin nervously eyed the Cultivators across the table and began to shake violently.”I-I-I-I...” He stammered ineffectually while trying, and failing, to shrink in upon himself and hide from sight.

“Sebet...” I sighed with irritation.

“I will fix him,” Sebet promised, having gathered her MP in anticipation of my request even before I made it.

All at once, Jin stopped trembling. His eyes grew unfocused and all signs of fear fled his face, replaced with a dazed expression of contentment. Without being asked, at least not aloud, Jin turned back to the table and inspected the materials.

Yi Gim and Hu Hae both shifted uncomfortably, eyeing Sebet warily. An understandable response considering the extreme personality change that took place in front of them. Especially given both of them had also experienced Sebet’s telepathic assault previously, and the Ability she had used on Jin was fundamentally similar.

“Lions grass, veilberries, ginseng, ironwood, sageleaf, serpents kiss...” Jin obediently rattled off the names of the materials one after another, barely pausing for breath.

“Your servant appears quite knowledgeable,” Yi Gim commented conversationally.

“I was hoping he would,” I replied, noticing too late that I had allowed my impatience to taint my words with audible irritation. “Jin is an Alchemist,” I added, volunteering the information and softening my tone as a means of apology.

Yi Gim’s niece gasped in surprise.

“An Alchemist?” Yi Gim exclaimed, “And you can summon him with only a wave of your hand? Impressive, on both counts.”

I shrugged. “I acquired Jin’s allegiance comparatively recently.”

Yi Gim nodded in understanding, “A sign of the heavens' favour to be certain,” he commented approvingly. “I suspect his Cultivation will grow in time, but I have been told it is not as important for Alchemists. Skill and secrets are said to hold far greater sway in successfully plying their craft.”

I could only take his word for it.

“You mentioned earlier that beasts are used as materials,” I observed, motioning toward several preserved items now laid out on the table and stored within wooden cases of varying sizes. “Could you explain why?”

“Certainly,” Yi Gim agreed amiably. “I am no Alchemist, but it is rather common knowledge that certain traits of the beasts can be passed on through reinforcement, enhancement and recovery pills. In a similar fashion, hide, bone and tendons may be turned toward the creation of armour and weapons. However, that is an undertaking of a different calling altogether.”

It made sense but I was somewhat disappointed. Given the fantastical nature afforded to the plats and minerals, I had expected the same of the beasts as well. “So a beast's Affinity could not be passed along in a similar manner to the plants?” I asked, wanting to be certain.

“It is possible,” Yi Gim admitted, “But I would stress that it is closer to the exception rather than the rule. Few Alchemists are skilled enough to develop the Affinity-rich beast materials into Affinity fortification pills. Furthermore, the effectiveness of the Affinity fortification pills rely heavily upon the experience the Alchemist holds with the prospective materials. As I stated earlier, skill and experience mean more to an Alchemist than their level of Cultivation.”

With my initial curiosity sated, I was reminded of the question I had forgotten to address previously. “Last we met, we spoke of the Labyrinths,” I commented, shifting the subject with the subtlety of a bull.

“I remember,” Yi Gim confirmed, motioning for me to continue.

I nodded in thanks. “Do you know what lies at the highest level?” It was a simple enough question, but I noticed a subtle shift in Yi Gim’s bearing.

He was afraid.

“I was never so bold to try for the peak...” Yi Gim admitted, deflecting the question. “Pressures from without, the chaos of the great war, held my focus on protecting what territories I held already...”

“You heard no rumours from those who tried?” I pressed, refusing to let the opportunity slide.

Yi Gim’s lips pressed tightly together, disappearing beneath his beard.

“We can assist you in curing your daughter,” Sebet’s promise blindsided Yi Gim, catching him completely off guard. To a lesser extent, she had surprised me as well. However, I trusted in Sebet’s talent for ruthlessly seeking out and capitalising on social advantage.

“Wh-What?...” Yi Gim gasped breathlessly, desperation, incredulity, hope and doubt warring within his eyes.

“The toxins that ravage your daughter’s body and spirit can be purged,” Sebet repeated, elaborating on her original statement with absolute confidence.

Yi Gim’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his body tensing in anger. “How?!...” He glanced toward his grand-niece and realisation dawned on his face. “How?” Yi Gim’s tone had softened, asking rather than demanding.

“My master has powerful healers,” Sebet replied, bowing her head in deference toward me as she did so. “Healers capable of traversing realms and performing even miracles when they must...”

I was unsure whether she was referring to Orphiel and Ophelia, Wrathe, or all three.

Yi Gim remained silent for several minutes, eyes downcast as he slowly came to a decision. “What is your price?” He asked quietly.

“Information,” Sebet replied without skipping a beat.

Yi Gim’s face contorted several times, shifting emotions like waves in a storm.

Throughout the exchange, Hu Hae watched silently, seemingly too stunned and uncertain to act.

Yi Gim looked up, but not at Sebet. Instead, he levelled a determined stare up at me. “I demand an Oath.”

“Only if you swear in kind,” I replied evenly. I have said as much during our last meeting, but I will say it again. There is much I do not know and I value information. If curing your daughter will secure that information, then I am willing to swear an Oath to uphold such a bargain.”

Yi Gim slowly nodded in agreement.

After exchanging Oaths, I removed a two-foot-long stone rod from my belt and passed it down to Yi Gim. “The head at the far end lies on a threaded screw. Tightening the screw will Summon Wraithe, one of my healers. She may not be able to completely fulfil my Oath on her own. However, her insights will determine how best to proceed.”

Yi Gim accepted the crimson stone rod. “There is something inside...” He commented quietly, the hint of distrust in his voice.

“They are Manastones. A source of power that will Summon Wraithe in my stead,” I explained patiently. “You may remove the head of the staff by turning in the opposite direction. However, I must warn you, the Spell will not work without the Manastones. So do not lose them.”

Yi Gim nodded grimly, and after briefly investigating its contents, he stored the rod inside his Storage Ring.

“Now, it’s your turn,” I prompted.

“You must understand, I do not speak of these things lightly,” Yi Gim cautioned, hesitating even as he readied himself to speak further. “I have not seen the peak with my own eyes. That much is true,” Yi Gim confirmed. “However, the lieutenants and retainers of allies now passed, made sure to pass warnings of what lay within,” His face paled. “Heavenly demons...Fallen gods of immense power and boundless cruelty...They brought death, destruction, and ruin upon all that dared trespass in their realm...” Yi Gim shivered and his hands trembled. “Once they were awakened, their servants and lieutenants rampaged across the land, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake...Nearly too late, we learned that the heavenly demons could not enter Labyrinths that were not their own. So we retreated to our strongholds and defended our realms as best we were able...”

What he had said didn’t quite fit with what he had told me already. “You said that you were not added to the rankings until the Labyrinths were finished taking in your world,” I commented, still uncertain what form that absorption was meant to take.

“I believe...I suspect...it is the heavenly demons and their minions that prepare the world for the change...” Yi Gim replied quietly. “Other Monarchs, from other worlds, have confirmed as much. Yet, I have not seen it for myself...”

“So reaching the peak is to doom the world...” I had no guarantees that the fate of these other worlds would be shared by the one I tangentially occupied.

A shiver ran down my spine.

How would I know if someone was close to reaching the peak? How would I defend my people?

My eyes were drawn toward Sebet.

<I do not know for certain...> Sebet answered in response to my unspoken question. <Heavenly demon has several potential interpretations...However, Demonic Cultivation is sufficiently terrifying that I believe your assumption may prove true...Angels, Daemons, and Devils...it is our kind that may occupy the peaks of the Labyrinths in our world. My memories of my beginning are...vague...and others I am forbidden to give form...But I suspect that the Angels at the least may occupy the peak...Or perhaps their more Evolved brethren.”

“I see it weighs on you,” Yi Gim observed, nodding slightly in approval. “It will be many nights until the memories of that time subside once more. However, I hope that this knowledge will prove useful to you and your people.”

I bowed my head slightly in thanks and then motioned to Sebet. “My second has other questions. I would appreciate it if you could answer at least a few more questions while we continue to wait.”

Yi Gim agreed and was relieved when Sebet’s line of questioning was directed away from the Labyrinths and toward Cultivators and Monarch politics instead.

It was depressing to learn that many Cultivators held callous attitudes toward anyone they deemed weaker than themselves. Worse still, to learn that it was believed to be an inescapable aspect of pursuing Cultivation.

In purifying their bodies and concentrating their spirit, character defects and negative emotions would be amplified during meditation unless purged regularly. However, the purging process generally took as much time as meditation, delaying the progress of an individual's Cultivation. As such, less scrupulous Cultivators skipped the purging rituals entirely, relying on spiritual suppressants to avoid catastrophe while ascending to higher levels of Cultivation.

These defects and concentrated negative emotions were the heart demons that the manuals had spoken of. The more powerful the Cultivator, the more real the heart demons would become. Malevolent spirits could corrupt a Cultivator from within, consuming them and then puppetting their body to unleash incredible devastation.

The required rituals for purging the heart demons had been included in the prepared manuals, which proved quite the relief after learning of the destruction a possessed Cultivator could inflict before being subdued.

The politics between Monarchs were less interesting, more or less falling in line with my existing expectations from what Yi Gim had told me already.

With precious few exceptions, the Monarchs were ruthless. All desired to add territories to their realms and rise through the rankings. However, it was the intended means and methods that varied. Some Monarchs were content with seizing small gains as the opportunities presented themselves, all the while hiding within alliances or paying protection to more capable Monarchs. Others gambled heavily, leveraging their land and people aggressively against their targets. Often losing as much as they gained.

By his own admission and insistence, Yi Gim considered himself and his cabal of allies to be moderates amongst their peers.

With only the Divine Patriarch to serve as a comparison, I could only agree and mentally prepare myself for the inevitable deluge of Challenges that were sure to come my way.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 71 - Exchange and favours - 3 of 6

Despite Yi Gim’s overt awe regarding the subject of sorcery, I quickly learned that many Cultivators had Techniques that should be considered magic in their own right. Telekinesis was painfully common, especially amongst the more martially inclined Monarchs. Allowing them to attack with potentially dozens of weapons simultaneously in a whirlwind of overwhelming violence.

Elemental attacks were even more common. Launching fire, ice and even lightning at their enemies.

However, Yi Gim claimed it was the niche specialties that posed the most significant dangers. Techniques that impaired or stripped away the senses. Illusions that were indistinguishable from reality. Strikes that paralyzed their victims. Swords that cleaved through matter like water...and poisons that savaged the vitality of the victim...These and many more besides.

There seemed to be no end to potential Techniques a Monarch could possess. Making it impossible to prepare for all potential eventualities.

Much to my surprise, Yi Gim animatedly advised against it. Insisting that developing a small number of reliable Techniques and playing to my advantage would prove far more effective.

Cultivators, and by extension, the other Monarchs, specialised with a burning passion. Limiting themselves to a handful of Techniques to prevent stagnation from divided focus. Techniques could be discarded, but it was a truly rare occurrence due to the requirement of obtaining a Technique the Cultivators themselves believed to be superior and then investing the time to master it.

The sharing of techniques was a strange subject. Simple, beginner, Techniques were considered fair game and often passed to servants and friends as gifts. However, the Techniques of the clan and family were to be kept an absolute secret, guarded with one’s life. Simultaneously, those same Techniques, when plundered by a rival, may be offered in trade or sold outright. Rarer still, knowledge of a Technique might be deliberately destroyed to prevent a rival’s descendants from benefiting from it.

The ruthlessness of the Cultivators created a substantial degree of waste, encouraging short-term benefits and gains at the expense of collective progress and stability.

Yi Gim claimed to do his best in curbing the worst of it, but I came to realise that his control within his realm was considerably weaker than my own. Yi Gim was the Monarch, wielding the political power and authority of a king.

A king with rivals amongst his ruling aristocracy.

It came as a considerable shock to Yi Gim to learn that every one of my subjects had sworn Oaths of loyalty and obedience. His shock only increased upon learning the limits of my laws and how little I imposed upon the greater population.

“I don’t understand...” Yi Gim admitted, shaking his head in confusion. “How do you support infrastructure without taxes?”

I suppressed a smirk, “I have resources they want, and I offer it in exchange for what I want.”

“It can’t be so simple...” Yi Gim challenged incredulously. “Surely greed would make such a practice untenable...”

“Not when someone else will do it,” I countered. “That same greed, or personal need, will compel someone else to seize the opportunity before the first person reconsiders and comes to their senses. I rarely make such an offer to just one person, and if I do, that person is usually inclined to agree because they are returning a favour or want to bank one for later.”

“I see...” Yi Gim replied pensively before letting out a sigh and shaking his head. “If I attempted to extract even a handful of Oaths, it would cause an open rebellion...How did you manage such a thing?”

“I saved their lives,” I replied dryly.

Yi Gim was quiet for a minute or so, just looking up at me with a piercing stare. “All of them?” He asked incredulously, “You aren’t exaggerating?”

“Not all of them-” I agreed.

Yi Gim relaxed.

“-But definitely most,” I insisted firmly.

Yi Gim gave me a wry look. “I am certain there is a story there,” he commented with overt interest.

I shrugged.

I hadn’t thought of things from that perspective before. Everything had just sort of happened...

Yi Gim looked disappointed. However, he quickly rallied. “Another exchange then?” He offered, “My story for yours? We still have at least an hour before the required relocation effort is completed.”

Hu Hae turned toward her grand-uncle and raised the wooden token in her hand. However, before she could say anything, she was silenced by a weighty look from Yi Gim.

Technically, I could probably leverage his Oath to compel Yi Gim to provide his origin story without revealing anything further about myself. But I felt no compunction to sour our relationship. Especially since we seemed to be getting along so well.

Which was odd, since I was reasonably confident I hadn’t given Yi Gim my name.

“Fine,” I agreed, making no attempts at concealing my reluctance.

Yi Gim beamed and turned to his grand-niece. “Hae’er, my memoirs, please!”

Hu Hae hesitated, glancing warily at myself and Sebet before relenting and withdrawing a thick twine-spined set of books from her Storage Ring and depositing them on the table.

The thin leather covers bore characters I couldn’t read but bore a simplified but strikingly accurate portrait of Yi Gim’s face on each cover. Comparing each in order revealed that the portraits each represented Yi Gim at different stages of his life, with the odd exception of the first and last volume bearing nearly identical portraits.

“So you may read at your leisure!” Yi Gim insisted enthusiastically. Conveniently ignoring the significant discrepancy in scale.

“You just so happened to have your biography on hand?” I asked dubiously.

“Uncle has me make copies for practice...” Hu Hae muttered quietly, cutting her grand-uncle off before he had the opportunity to reply.

“Writing practice?” I pressed, reasonably certain that a Cultivator wouldn’t waste their time perfecting calligraphy.

“Ah! Water Affinity practice!” Hu Hae elaborated hurriedly, moving her hands and drawing ink from the pot on the table with her Chi. “Uncle says it builds control...” I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was profoundly embarrassed.

I looked pointedly at Yi Gim.

“It does!” Yi Gim insisted adamantly. “And it also builds character!”

Hu Hae groaned in disgust and shook her head.

Yi Gim looked up at me expectantly, no doubt waiting for me to hold up my end.

<It was a joke...> Sebet explained wearily. <The Monarch is waiting to see if you share his sense of humour...>

The young woman’s reaction now made a great deal more sense, and I was inclined to agree with her.

***** Wraithe ~ Yi Gim’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Bay of Tranquility *****

Staring at her surroundings, Wraithe felt somewhat at a loss. She was surrounded by human soldiers on all sides and wasn’t sure what she was meant to do.

The primal instincts locked away in the hind sections of her brain clamoured for release. Demanded Wraithe rip, tear and gorge her way through their ranks until her bloodlust was satisfied.

Only, Wraithe knew that there was no satisfying those particular instincts and urges. The only way to control them was to starve them out and keep them under tight lock and key.

After all, losing control during a critical moment in surgery would have horrific consequences for everyone else involved.

All the same, Wraithe couldn’t help her claws from twitching, which caused the soldiers to draw their swords in turn.

“Aehrm...” Wraithe scanned the crowd of faces and looked for someone in a position of authority. If she was shorter, she may not have seen him, but standing over seven feet tall, Wraithe spied an older man standing by the bedside of a middle-aged woman on the opposite side of the room.

Directing her senses toward the far side of the room, Wraithe’s nose twitched excitedly.

She could smell the faint scent of the Tyrant on the old man. More importantly, Wraithe could smell corruption and decay emanating from the bedridden woman.

In a blur of motion, Wraithe leapt into the air and used the ceiling to bounce over the soldiers and toward the bed.

Blades whistled through the air behind her, but Wraithe ignored them. She was aware that her current self was merely a projection, and no matter how badly her projection was harmed, her true self would endure.

What mattered now was attending to her patient.

Wraithe stepped aside just in time to avoid disembowelment.

The old man now carried a sword and its blade occupied the space her abdominals had occupied less than a fraction of a second before.

“If you would step back,” Wraithe insisted firmly, “I need to assess the patient!” She shooed the old man backward with a sternness only someone who had worked a hundred work hour day in the span of twenty-four hours could manage.

The old man backed away. He quickly realised what he was doing and prepared to advance anew. However, it didn’t matter, Wraithe was already taking the woman’s temperature and scanning her body with a powerful detection Spell to identify the cause of her poor condition.

“You are the healer?” The old man asked the tip of his sword levelled three inches too low to strike her heart.

“I am a Surgeon!” Wraithe replied automatically out of reflex before catching herself. “Ah, yes, I am a healer...” She amended distractedly. The detection Spell was returning a disorienting tide of information and Wraithe was struggling to keep pace and make sense of it all.

“Can you truly heal her?” The old man asked, his sword falling to pointing at the floor, seemingly forgotten despite his tight grip on the blade.

“Hrmmmm...” Wraithe scratched at her large ears and fussed at her whiskers, carefully considering her reply. “I can neutralise the Venoms and Poisons...” Wraithe hedged and assessed the remaining MP reserves of her projection. “I can reverse the necrosis...” She carefully weighed her options against the theoretical leftover MP. “I could remove the Spirit Possessing her, but it will cause a small amount of damage...A Shaman would prove a better choice.”

Wraithe preferred giving options when there was permanent damage involved in the prospective treatment plan. Especially when the patient’s condition appeared to be relatively stable.

Their Surgeon hadn’t been competent enough to heal the poor woman, but they had at least stalled the deterioration.

Wraithe’s eyes drifted to the pair of magical rings adorning the woman’s left hand and her approximation of the local Surgeon plummeted. Magic items were keeping her stable, not the bizarre bowls of smouldering herbs and foul-smelling unguents lathered on the poor woman’s body.

“She will need a bath drawn,” Wraithe demanded, “To remove all of-” She pointed at the foul-smelling paste, “-this!” Wraithe’s nose twitched in irritation, “And I shall need a mortar and pestle and the best medicinal herbs you can provide!

Nobody moved.

Wraithe glowered, extending her rear jointed legs and rising another two feet higher than the surrounding soldiers. “NOW.” The word carried every ounce of authority Wraithe could muster, and she was satisfied to see several of the soldiers immediately running to leave the room.

“Go! Do as it demands!” The old man commanded, sending the remaining soldiers falling over one another as they rushed to obey.

A young woman entered shortly afterwards but came up short as she laid eyes on Wraithe.

“It is the healer,” the old man explained, motioning vaguely toward Wraithe with his sword.

Wraithe began experimentally dabbing at the thick foul-smelling paste covering the bedridden woman’s fingers and hands. The toxins within her body were so potent that they had saturated and contaminated the paste, rendering it utterly useless and counterproductive.

Wraithe could feel the toxins attempting to soak through her skin and gain purchase in her flesh and blood. This would have caused her a certain degree of concern, but Wraithe was immune. All the Daemons would have been. Anything short of the most caustic concentrated digestive venom would only prove a momentary inconvenience.

“Uhm, my name is Hu Hae,” the young woman bowed, the veil covering her face slipping briefly and revealing a small patch of burnt skin.

“You, stand still,” Wraithe ordered, wiping her fingers clean and closing the distance between them with lightning speed. She snatched at the young woman's shoulder with one hand and pulled away the veil with the other.

The young woman screeched in alarm and kicked at Wraithe’s legs.

Wraithe ignored the pain and angled the young woman’s face to one side, revealing more of the scar. “Who treated this?!” Wraithe demanded angrily, “All this scar tissue and not a single sign that someone attempted so much as a moisturising salve!”

Wraithe removed a projected copy of the burn cream from her satchel with her tail. Its effects would be severely reduced compared to the original, but her confidence in the local humans’ medical supplies was nearly non-existent.

Still holding the young woman tightly with her left claw, Wraithe removed the cork lid and took a large dollop of the paste with the fingers from her right hand.

Ignoring the young woman’s cries of fear, Wraithe patiently applied the salve to every inch of scar tissue she could find. Taking care to obstruct the old man’s view with her own body to provide the young woman with a measure of privacy.

Thoroughly battered, Wraithe spent a small measure of MP.

The young woman’s cries stopped and a flash of golden light briefly illuminated the room. As the gold light faded, Wraithe felt a surge of intense satisfaction.

Releasing the young woman, Wraithe returned to the bedside of her original patient and willed her body not to waste MP restoring her body. Tending to the young woman had already drawn the margins tighter than she would have preferred. Besides, the pain would be temporary. Barely more than a flicker in the conscious mind of her true self.

Wraithe glanced over her shoulder.

The old man had helped the young woman to her feet and restored her dress to preserve her modesty. However, the young woman was paying him little attention. Instead, she was staring intensely into the distorted reflection afforded by a polished silver platter on the wall and gingerly poking at the pale white skin that had replaced the gnarled scar tissue on her face and neck. Tears ran freely down her face and she had to cup a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobbing.

Wraithe turned back to the unconscious older woman and allowed herself a moment to indulge in the satisfaction of changing a young woman’s life.

This was what made the pain worthwhile.

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 70 - An unexpected alliance - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 70 - An unexpected alliance - Part Two

After my battle with the Divine Patriarch, I knew better than to let down my guard.

<This one considers himself a negotiator.> Gric commented neutrally, his telepathic tone wary but otherwise indifferent.

<To what end?> I asked, confused, why someone of that temperament would initiate a Challenge in the first place.

<Apologies, Great One, I was unable to pierce his mental defences and determine his greater motivations...> Sebet’s irritation was exacerbated by Gric’s smug contempt. <But the care this Monarch has shown for his subordinates appears to be genuine and is consistent with memories taken from his retainer.>

<This was my observation as well.> Gric agreed, the smugness in his mental presence replaced by mild irritation as he found himself in agreement with Sebet.

The rival Monarch had descended from his flying ship and replaced his helmet with a shining pale white headband. Appearing similar in age to the Divine Patriarch and of a somewhat similar nationality, the Admiral had a thick wiry grey-white beard that lent his presence a certain gravity that the Divine Patriarch had lacked.

Dark eyes studied me from behind deep wrinkles and weather-worn cheeks.

I felt a foreign source of energy move in my periphery, brushing against me with a touch so faint that I could have mistaken it for the wind.

The Admiral’s wrinkled brow furrowed slightly in confusion but was quickly banished and replaced by an expression of wary concern. “I am Yi Gim, and I extend greetings to a fellow Monarch!” He inclined his head as a sign of respect, but not so much that it could be confused for deference.

“What do you want?” I asked bluntly.

If he was offended, Yi Gim didn’t show it. “I would speak with you, Monarch to Monarch. I have questions, and I am prepared to offer answers in fair trade,” he explained politely. “For the sake of transparency, many of my questions regard a long-term rival, now deceased. Wang Chen.”

<He speaks of the one who named himself the Divine Patriarch.> Gric supplied helpfully.

“What about him?” I motioned for Yi Gim to proceed. Depending on what he wanted to know, I was willing to exchange information.

“To build trust between us, I will begin with a simple question and allow my fellow Monarch to ask a question of greater import,” Yi Gim qualified, his eyes continuing to stare up at me with dark intensity. “It was Wang Chen who issued the Supremacy Challenge, wasn’t it?”

I nodded.

Yi Gim sighed quietly and stroked his beard with his right hand, keeping his left firmly locked on the scabbard of his sword and angling it for an easy draw. “I suspected as much, but I thank you for answering, all the same,” he inclined his head respectfully and waited expectantly.

“Why did you Challenge me?” I demanded.

“Ah,” Yi Gim nodded appreciatively. “That is a worthy question,” he commented approvingly. “I suspect you will not believe me. However, in truth, my primary intention was to engage in a civil exchange of information. Just as we are doing now, in fact,” Yi Gim chuckled softly and scratched at his cheek. ”I had expected to engage in such an exchange while crossing swords or exchanging Techniques...but I find our current means of discourse far more pleasant and desirable.”

I grunted in agreement. I wasn’t sure if I could trust him, but a civil discussion was preferable to another life-or-death battle. Especially with the opportunity to acquire some real answers.

“If I may? I will ask my next question.” Yi Gim paused for a moment and made a show of thinking things over. “Why are you not represented on the Monarch Communication Exchange?’ He asked, eyes narrowing slightly as if anticipating a lie or misdirection.

“That is...It’s the first I have heard of it...” I admitted, somewhat confused. “That is some sort of intermediary for speaking with other Monarchs?” I guessed. Most likely, the errors were somehow related. However, I wasn’t sure how exactly.

Yi Gim nodded. “Interesting...” He muttered quietly.

“What is the purpose of the Labyrinths?” The question had been on the forefront of my mind for the past few days and slipped out of its own accord.

Yi Gim’s eyes widened in surprise. “Labyrinths?” He stared at me for several moments in complete silence before coming to his senses. “Apologies,” Yi Gim bowed his head, “I had not expected such a question...” He appeared confused and more than a little unsettled. “The Labyrinths are how worlds are incorporated into the greater universe and are the vessels that facilitate reincarnation...”

“Reincarnation...The rebirth and creation of the Awakened...The incorporation of worlds...” None of it was new to me, but hearing it all from a single source was profoundly unsettling.

“The Labyrinths in your world, they are still active...” Yi Gim guessed, nodding slightly to himself. “That is...beyond strange, I dare say it is unprecedented...” He gave me another appraising look and silently arrived at a decision. “I know that you will no doubt ask anyway, so I will offer this information freely. Monarchs should not be capable of entering the rankings before the incorporation of their designated world. This is probably why you are not listed and do not have access to the Monarch Communication Exchange...”

A long silence passed between us.

“Your low rating,” Yi Gim commented dryly, “It makes sense now.” he smiled wanly. “I cannot decide if the heavens smile upon you with favour, or are seeking to destroy you outright...” Yi Gim admitted. “In just about any other circumstance, I would expect anyone else in your position to have died. Forgive me, but I feel compelled to ask. What Divine Treasure allowed you to grow strong enough to defeat Wang Chen?”

“Divine Treasures?” I asked uncertainly. “Do you mean Artefacts?”

“Artefacts?” Yi Gim’s brow twitched. “You possess magical objects of power?” He asked with strained incredulity.

I made no reply.

Yi Gim’s mouth hung agape and he staggered backward several steps before stopping himself. “H-How?...”

“I fought others Awakened and seized opportunities...” I replied glibly, now realising that I had revealed something I should have kept hidden.

Yi Gim stared at me silently for quite some time. “This...” He waved his right hand, motioning to refer to all of me. “Your body is not the result of an Ancestral Bloodline, is it? You...You’re one of them...”

“One of them?” I asked guardedly, already tensing in preparation for a fight.

Yi Gim blinked several times while struggling silently with his thoughts. “The great enemy of the heavens...A servant of the chaos wastes...”

“A servant of what?” I demanded incredulously.

I felt a sudden rush of energy extend from Yi Gim’s body and press against the core of my being. On instinct alone, I resisted. However, contrary to my expectations, I was not able to break free.

“Not suppressed...Just undeveloped...” Yi Gim looked more confused than before. “Even with a Divine Treasure...How?...”

“You will cease your attack. IMMEDIATELY!” Gric snarled, the stone plates of his armour rattling ominously as his muscles swelled in preparation for combat.

“It’s in your best interest,” Sebet agreed, claws inching free of her gauntlets as her fingers twitched in anticipation.

The pressure increased for a split instant and then withdrew. “Apologies...I...Such an action is unconscionable...I just never expected...” Yi Gim apologised, visibly shaken.

“A monster?” I supplied dryly.

“A monster?” Yi Gim repeated. “No, yes, well...” He took a deep breath to steady himself, “I did not expect to meet a servant of chaos without reaching the position of Supreme Monarch...” No doubt realising that I had no idea what he was talking about, Yi Gim raised one hand for patience. “The top ten Monarchs in the rankings represent the heavens in their divine war to suppress the servants of chaos.”

“So what now then?” I asked, preparing myself for the inevitable descent into violence.

Yi Gim’s grip visibly tightened on the scabbard of his sword and the fingers on his right hand twitched slightly. Grimacing, he removed his left hand from the scabbard and crossed both hands across his chest in an open show of defiance. “You are not what I expected,” Yi Gim admitted.

Surprised by his restraint and transparent attempts at de-escalation, I motioned for Gric and Sebet to stall any hostile activities.

“From all I have been told, you should have attacked me at first sight, or the very least, the moment I lowered my guard...” Yi Gim explained with mounting confidence. “And earlier, you allowed my subordinates to retreat. You would not have done that if you were even half the beast they claim your kind to be.”

Reviewing my own experiences with other Awakened, I was inclined to agree. However, Wang Chen hadn’t seemed that different either.

“But...” Yi Gim paused and smiled faintly. “I am sorry, I have asked far more questions than I have answered. Forgive me,” he bowed, only this time bending at the waist rather than simply inclining his head.

“It’s fine,” I replied dismissively. I had learned a great deal from our exchange, as much from his questions as my own. So I didn’t begrudge his relative monopoly over the questions that had been asked. “What were you going to ask?”

Yi Gim nodded in appreciation. “I was told that your kind could not Cultivate. That you had different abilities.”

“But you know I have Chi,” I commented, following his train of thought.

“Just so,” Yi Gim agreed.

Despite our rapport, I knew that divulging the complete truth would be an incredible risk.

Recognising my hesitation, Yi Gim smiled grimly. “Ah, of course. We all have our secrets.” He glanced back toward his flying ship and I felt Chi passing back and forth several moments before it came to a stop. “I know you have little cause to trust me. However, one of my original goals in contacting you was to seek out an alliance.” Yi Gim stared up at me for several moments before smiling slightly. “What I have learned only makes me more interested.”

“Aren’t we in competition with one another?” I asked warily. Putting aside the fact that we seemed to be part of two completely different Labyrinth blocs, the Monarchs were geared into direct competition with those on the same side as well.

“Ah, you wonder how such alliances would survive such divisive infighting?” Yi Gim nodded sagely. “Long-term stability is only gained through such alliances. Through exchanging Oaths swearing not to attack one another, alliances of like-minded individuals may trade territories freely amongst one another. Buying time to develop manpower, resources and personal power without fear of being caught unawares or unprepared for a mandatory Challenge.”

“It seems...odd, that alliances would be allowed...” I commented dubiously.

Yi Gim wavered his hand noncommittally. “Cultivators are driven to progress, sometimes to the point of excess...Alliances that focus exclusively on trading territories are prone to succumbing to infighting and societal collapse. Despite being less aggressively metered than the unaffiliated, alliance members will not pass up the opportunity to seize territories from weaker Monarchs.”

It was more ruthless than I had expected and made a sort of sense. “Surely you have other allies already. Why do you want an alliance with me?” So far as I was aware, it wasn’t possible to fight alongside an ally, so there didn’t seem to be much point in having more than a single ally to trade territories with.

“I do,” Yi Gim admitted. “However, much like the chisels of a master carpenter, well-chosen allies can each serve a unique purpose. Bang Dae is an excellent information broker, but I would never knowingly show him my back, Oaths or no.”

“I think I understand what you mean. However, it doesn’t explain why you want me as an ally specifically.” I pressed.

“That is true,” Yi Gim readily agreed. “And if I am honest, I am not sure what benefit you can provide me that another ally does not already provide. But I have personally witnessed enough acts of providence to know an opportunity when I see one.” He stared at me intensely for a few moments and nodded to himself, “I am convinced that you represent an opportunity I cannot allow to pass by to another.”

“Even if it meant swearing an oath on your life?” I asked warily.

Yi Gim hesitated, but it was a reaction I had expected. Few could lay down their lives as collateral without hesitation.

“Trust is earned,” Yi Gim replied calmly. “A man’s reputation only holds value to those who know of the quality of the man. If exchanging Oaths would set your mind at ease, then I am prepared to do so.”

“After you then,” I suggested.

“Hrmf, hehe,” Yi Gim chuckled in amusement. “The alliance was my suggestion, so it makes sense that I should go first.” he took a few moments to collect himself. “I swear to the heavens that I will not knowingly or deliberately cause harm to the Monarch known as The Tyrant. Should I break this oath, may my heart demons consume my Cultivation and destroy my soul!” Yi Gim grimaced and staggered slightly before righting himself.

Before repeating the oath for myself, I distinctly recalled having not held it in particularly high regard. However, afterwards, I felt quite differently.

Unlike Oaths I had sworn in the past, this particular Oath settled in my abdomen like a ball of chains. Instead of fading over time, the sensation persisted.

“You grow used to it,” Yi Gim commented with a wry grin. “It doesn't get easier, but you do get used to it.”

With Oaths now preventing us from attacking one another without consequence, Yi Gim’s subordinates disembarked from the flying ship.

Upon their arrival, Yi Gim had them swear Oaths of secrecy to prevent them from divulging anything pertaining to me that they had witnessed thus far or in the future without his explicit permission to do so.

“It is a common practice and precaution when discussing internal and alliance matters,” Yi Gim explained helpfully.

The young man, Gam Seok continued to stare grimly at Sebet and Gric but made no open signs of hostility. He then surprised me by bowing his head with one fist clenched over the other. “I thank you for your instruction in mind Techniques!” He rumbled somewhat defensively. “If there is another opportunity to do so in the future, I would like to exchange Techniques again!”

“It wasn’t exactly a fair fight,” Sebet purred, her pride and ego stoked by Gam Seok’s praise.

“True battle rarely is,” Gam Seok replied respectfully.

“Even so, you put up a stronger resistance than most,” Sebet complimented.

Gam Seok then glanced at Gric and winced. “I thank you for the praise, senior, but I know I must train harder...”

Gric grunted approvingly but said nothing.

In stark contrast to Yi Gim and Gam Seok, the young woman, Hu Hae wore lighter armour that favoured agility and freedom of motion over protection. A veil of fine bronze chain concealed the majority of her face but only served to draw focus to her deep blue eyes.

Since swearing her Oath, Hu Hae had stared at me without even taking the time to blink. It was rather unsettling.

“I must apologise for my grand-niece,” Yi Gim bowed his head respectfully. “Those who possess Affinities are rare within the lands of myself and my trusted allies. Indeed, it came as quite a surprise when you dismantled her Technique using pure Water Affinity alone.”

The image of the oncoming tsunami was still fresh in my mind. In truth, all I had done was force my Chi into the centre of the oncoming waves and formed a wedge. The waves had passed by so quickly that I hadn’t needed to maintain the effort for more than a handful of seconds.

“When you say rare, just how rare do you mean?” I asked curiously.

Yi Gim paused to consider for a few moments. “Outside of specific Bloodlines, it is almost entirely unheard of. This is partially due to families actively incorporating talented individuals into their ranks through marriages and formal adoption. Within all of my territories, I would confidently assume there are fewer than one hundred individuals with an elemental Affinity, and most belong to one of the great families formed by my descendants.” He proudly rested a hand on his great-niece’s shoulder, “Hu Hae is considered something of a prodigy, Even without access to an area rich in Water Chi, she has developed her Affinity diligently.”

“I assume those sorts of places are similarly rare?” I asked curiously.

“Oh, most definitely!” Yi Gim agreed emphatically, “Rarer even. I am aware of monarchs of higher ranking rumoured to possess a Sacred Realm or Hidden Realm saturated with one form of Chi or another, but have unfortunately yet to encounter one myself.” He shrugged helplessly. “We have done our best to develop Chi-rich environments through other means, but plants possessing Chi Affinity are incredibly rare and are slow to propagate.”

“How would you even trade for them?” I asked, confused how any meaningful degree of trade could take place during a Challenge without accepting an immense degree of risk.

“It is possible to travel to territories held by other Monarchs...Or rather, our subjects can travel between realms under certain conditions.” Yi Gim motioned to his subordinates. “Provided both Monarchs allow it. A pair of powerful enough Teleportation Arrays can provide a temporary link between realms.”

“Which would also allow spies and saboteurs...” I observed dryly.

“Just so,” Yi Gim agreed, making no signs of having taken offence. “Trade is usually restricted to a single trading partner for this very reason. The dedicated military presence required to maintain security can just as easily become complicit in illicit dealings that weaken a Monarch’s realm even as trade enriches it.”

“So why engage in open trade at all?” I asked.

“Sometimes, assuring mutual benefit or even engaging in a minor loss is required to ensure one’s continued survival,” Yi Gim replied calmly. “The yak will not attack the bird that grooms its hair. So too will a Monarch resist attacking another that brings him sufficient prestige and wealth through trade.”

It made sense, but inviting enemies through the backdoor would only delay the greater danger. However, there were things I needed and I currently had no means of acquiring them.

Assuming Yi Gim could be trusted, he presented an opportunity.

If I was going to make the most of the second system, I needed manuals and resources.

“What do you trade?” I asked, trying not to seem overly eager.

“It depends upon the needs of each party,” Yi Gim replied unhelpfully before smiling slightly in apology. “Spirit Stone is the most commonly accepted medium,” the Storage Ring on his right hand flashed and a flat green pebble roughly an inch in diameter appeared in the palm of his hand. “The precise value varies. However, the quality of the spiritual jade, and its receptivity to Chi, is the most important factor in determining each stone's value. Grade ten purity is the highest, while grade one is the lowest. Although merchants and nobles may defer to simpler terms, such as high, middle or low grade.”

“And what is that stone worth?” I asked, pointing to the stone in his palm.

Yi Gim’s smile widened slightly and the wrinkles around his eyes grew deeper. “This is an eighth grade, or high grade, Spirit Stone-” He patted the sword hanging at his side, “I would expect to pay five hundred of these for a blade of this quality.”

“May I see?” I extended my hand, motioning toward the stone.

Misunderstanding my request, Yi Gim deftly untied the scabbard from his belt and gingerly tossed it up into my hand.

It wasn’t what I had wanted, but it presented another opportunity to take a closer look at the weapons of the Cultivators.

Unfortunately, it looked more or less the same as the swords I had taken from the Divine Patriarch. The hilt and scabbard both had artistic wave patterns, and the swirls appeared to line up with and continue onto the blade. However, the transition to the blade was made from some sort of dark stain rather than etchings or engravings.

Just the same as the other swords, injecting MP into it did not change its size, or do anything else. However, infusing it with Chi was a different matter entirely.

Something inside of the sword seemed to come alive.

It felt like an extension of my own body, a limb I never knew I had.

Balancing the flat of the blade on the end of my finger, I was able to cause it to begin spinning with just a thought. Testing the limits, I willed the blade to spin faster.

Flicking the sword into the air, I watched it turn end over end and directed it to land point-first on the reverse side of my palm.

“Wait!-” Yi Gim cried out in alarm but stopped mid-leap as the sword landed harmlessly on the stone plate of my gauntlet.

Now spinning on its point like a drill, I accelerated the rotation speed and watched carefully for signs of damage.

Having satisfied my curiosity, I returned the blade to its scabbard and tossed it back to Yi Gim.

“I'm glad I followed my intuition,” Yi Gim chuckled nervously, returning the sword to his side.

I shrugged. “I would like to take a look at the Spirit Stone,” I clarified.

“Oh, of course!” Yi Gim replied with forced cheer, tossing up the small green stone onto my waiting palm.

As I had expected, the Spirit Stone contained concentrated internal energy. Instinctively, I sensed that I could strip the energy out of it if I wanted to. However, I wasn’t certain I could replace it afterwards, so I left it alone.

“Do the veins appear naturally?” I asked, curious whether I could create the stones to facilitate trade.

Yi Gim nodded. “The veins of spiritual jade are formed over hundreds of years.” He was quiet for a few moments but something else appeared to come to mind. “Although it is rare, Tribulations have been known to transform the materials within their immediate surroundings. However, the Spirit Stones harvested from such events are often low grade.”

I nodded politely and thought things over. “Is it the internal energy or the jade itself that determines the value?” I asked, wondering whether Ochram could create this special jade from other forms of stone.

The question took Yi Gim by surprise and he took a few moments to consider his response. “I suppose it would depend upon who you ask,” he replied, stroking his beard contemplatively. “To most lower merchants, it is the collective that matters. The absence of purity matters just as much as the absence of internal energy. However, an Inscriptionist would place far greater value on the purity of the spiritual jade, as they can readily gather internal energy to replenish the stones with only a little effort.” Yi Gim shrugged indifferently, “Weaker Cultivators would place an emphasis on the internal energy of the stones and demand the exchange be reflected only in the total available internal energy.”

“I see...” It was good to know that there was some wriggle room, but I still didn’t know if I could replicate the Spirit Stones at all.

I offered the Spirit Stone back to Yi Gim but he raised his hands in refusal. “Keep it, please. Consider it a gift,” he insisted, removing a wooden token from his belt and tossing it to join the stone already in my hand. “A communication token,” Yi Gim explained hurriedly, withdrawing a twin from within his Storage Ring. <Injecting Chi into the token should allow us to communicate without the Monarch Communication Exchange. Although it may prove particularly draining over such a distance.>

Unlike regular telepathy which provided impressions and emotions, the communication provided by the token was the same as mundane speech.

Inspecting the token, the edges were lined with text that I didn’t understand but recognised as being written in an East Asian alphabet.

“It was made by our most accomplished Formation expert,” Yi Gim explained proudly, “And the wood is thousand-year-old ash. I am confident that you will not find better!”

I nodded in thanks but couldn’t help but worry whether the token could be used for more nefarious or clandestine purposes. I would need to have the token kept somewhere safe to limit any potential harm.

“Is there anything in particular you or your people need in trade?” I asked. I needed alternatives in case creating jade turned out to be a bust. I doubted Technique manuals were cheap, and any that were wouldn’t be worth learning from.

“In bulk?” Yi Gim qualified. “The same as everyone else, I suppose. Elixirs, medicinal pills, rare alchemical ingredients or materials...” He shrugged apologetically, “Cultivation resources are always in demand. However, the prices fluctuate heavily based on quality and demand.”

“I don't suppose you have any examples on hand?” It was a reach, but Hana’s ability to grow just about anything would be a welcome backup in case Ochram’s jade didn’t work out.

Yi Gim began to shake his head but stopped and looked toward his grand-niece. “Hu Hae?”

Hu Hae fidgeted nervously for a few moments beneath her uncle's gaze before withdrawing a small jade case from her Storage Ring. “A midnight lotus, uncle...” She briefly lifted the lid, revealing a lotus with pale blue petals. Replacing the lid, she offered the case and flower to her uncle with palpable reluctance and disappointment.

Yi Gim appeared more conflicted than his grandniece but inevitably relented. “I will see you receive another, Hae-er,” he promised, accepting the case containing the flower and squeezing her shoulder slightly to emphasise his conviction and sincerity.

Instead of accepting the lotus flower myself, I motioned Gric forward to take it in my place.

Extending my senses, I felt a faint familiar presence mingled amidst its energy.

“The midnight lotus possesses a trace of Water Affinity,” Yi Gim explained. “It is unlikely that a realm with lower maturity will possess such a treasure, but stranger things have happened,” he gave me a small smile, acknowledging my unique situation.

What little he knew of it.

“Why is the Affinity so valuable?” I asked, “Beyond its rarity, I mean.”

“The proper pill made from such a material can increase the related Affinity in a Cultivator with the same Affinity,” Yi Gim explained earnestly, sparing a moment to glance guiltily at his grand-niece. “Materials with stronger Affinity can even impart that Affinity to a Cultivator under the right circumstances. It is why even the faintest trace of Affinity can drive up the price of the most common materials.”

“What about the rings?” I nodded to Yi Gim’s hands. “Are they expensive?”

“Spatial Storage Rings? Oh my yes, very expensive!” Yi Gim replied. “Working with Spatial Chi is notoriously difficult, and the storage space itself comes at the expense of a territory. So no matter the size, they are always a prized treasure.”

That was good news. I had looted several Storage Rings from Wang Chen and his subordinates. If worse came to worst, I could always sell one of them to buy what I needed.

“You have asked a great deal about what I may want from you,” Yi Gim commented astutely. “However, we have not yet discussed what you may want from me.”

I acknowledged his observations with a curious nod. “As I am sure you have already determined, your realm and my own are at different stages of development.”

Yi Gim nodded politely and waited for me to continue.

“This makes knowledge a high priority,” I explained. “However, I am also aware that such knowledge, particularly relating to Cultivation, comes at a premium.”

Yi Gim nodded again.

“I’m not foolish or arrogant enough to demand or expect the secrets and treasures of your realm. However, I suspect that you would be willing to sell those of your rivals and that others will feel the same,” I explained patiently while gauging his reaction.

Yi Gim’s lips slowly parted into a wolfish smile. “It is just so,” he admitted happily. “Turning the fall of a rival into profit and prosperity is the duty of every Monarch.”

After discussing matters a little further, Yi Gim formally offered his surrender alongside a single territory.

Accepting his surrender, I was immediately returned to Sanctuary.

The loophole seemed entirely too convenient when compared to what I had previously known of the Labyrinths. However, taking into account what I had learned from Yi Gim, it made a strange sort of sense.

Resources were intended to filter upward to those fighting in their great war. Diverting their attention to pursue the resources en masse would be inefficient. Strong-arming a robust ‘middle class’ into paying protection without putting up a fight would be far more favourable.

With the middling Monarchs doing all the fighting and negotiating, those at the top would be free to demand whatever they wanted without risking their position by weakening themselves.

All the while, those at the bottom were set upon from all sides. Their resources to be acquired and managed by those already possessing experience and the means to efficiently exploit them.

I should consider myself lucky that only two other Monarchs had taken an interest in seizing my resources. However, the sudden and unexpected defeat of the Divine patriarch may have played a more prominent role in deterring aggression than I had expected.

I found Hana experimenting with new plant life in a small garden near the lake. Jin, the Cultivation Alchemist, followed behind her while making suggestions and observations on the results. Thoroughly absorbed in their conversation, Hana didn’t acknowledge my presence until the very last moment, waiting until I reached the outer boundary of the garden.

“Welcome home, Tim!” Hana called out cheerily, waving clear a path and approaching me directly.

Gric appeared at my side without warning, the jade case containing the lotus still securely held in his right hand.

“Ah! G-Greetings m-mighty M-Monarch!” Jin exclaimed fearfully, bowing rigidly at the waist with his eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

Ignoring Jin, at least for the moment, I motioned Gric forward. “We acquired something that may help with your experiments.”

Already excited, Hana’s eyes lit up with expectation and barely restrained curiosity.

Gric opened the case and offered it to Hana.

“Oh!... It’s certainly interesting!” Hana exclaimed, sparing only a moment to gently scoop the lotus out of the jade case before wandering toward the lake shore.

“I will seek out Ochram,” Gric volunteered, closing the case and patiently waiting for my approval.

“Alright, but take this as well,” I passed him the Spirit Stone. Ochram probably wouldn’t need a second reference, but I had no other immediate use for it anyway.

Gric accepted the Spirit Stone and disappeared.

Following Hana, I found her kneeling in the shallows and cradling the lotus between her palms.

“It has taken root, but it is weak,” Hana explained without looking away from the lotus. “My mana isn’t enough. Just like the others, it needs more than The Grove can provide...”

Closing my eyes, I released a steady stream of Chi and extended my consciousness. Feeling a gentle tug, I allowed myself to be drawn toward the source.

In contrast to its serene, if somewhat wilted physical appearance. The spiritual presence of the lotus felt like a starved animal. It gnawed at the periphery of my extended consciousness, trying, and failing, to tear off a piece of me to sate its hunger.

As time wore on, the desperation of the lotus ebbed. Somehow, it was able to fortify itself through my presence.

“It is as if you are the sun,” Hana commented curiously. “Even now, it turns to you to sustain itself,” she pointed to the bent stem of the lotus and I could see that she was right, on both counts.

It needed internal energy, or Chi to sustain itself, and so did the others. However, the other plants Hana had experimented with seemed far less desperate. Even now and despite the distance between us, they had latched onto my Chi and seemed to be growing stronger.

Hana had noticed as well and appeared to be thinking something over. “Tim, Jin said there were special Spells, boundaries that helped contain the special mana the plants need-”

“Formations?” I interjected, having read references to such an effect but for the purposes of bolstering Cultivators themselves.

“I think that was the word he used,” Hana agreed. “Is there some way we can get those?”

“I...I’m not sure...” I replied honestly. “There are Formations written in some of the books I’ve read, but none of them mentioned plants.”

“Ah! With all due respect, M-Monarch!” Jin interrupted hastily, “Any of the basic energy gathering and  Chi concentration Formations would be sufficient!” He suddenly paled and threw himself into another low bow. “Forgiveness Monarch! It was not my intention to assume!”

With a thought, I conjured a large tome into my right hand. It contained every Formation and Array Sebet and Gric had found within the Divine Patriarch’s Cultivation manuals. “Show me,” I insisted, striding onto the shore and using MP to form a bookstand from the nearby stones.

“Ah! At once!” Jin agreed obediently, scampering like a dog eager to please its master. That, or terrified of being found wanting.

Jin carefully but hastily flipped through the tome, pausing on each page only long enough to confirm its contents before moving on. After a minute of searching, Jin stopped and shakily pointed to the diagram on the open page.

“This is it!” Jin declared awkwardly, his voice cracking slightly. “Hrm! If the garden is surrounded by such a Formation, the plants are sure to flourish!” I am sure of it!”

“What do we need to do?” I couldn’t understand the characters written into the Formation’s design, but I was reasonably confident I could copy the overall design by using the book as a direct reference.

“Ah, well...I think we need Spirit Stones...” Jin replied anxiously, his face growing pale. “Th-the Formations I have seen have all been made...from...Spirit Stones...”

I let out a deep sigh and fitted a bookmark to mark the page.

Using my authority, I relocated myself to Ochram’s location and found myself standing on a craggy mountainside.

“My Tyrant!” Cin, one of the one-horned Daemons and Ochram’s apprentice, cried out excitedly in welcome. Her clothes were dirty, caked in mud and clay, but she looked happy. It made me glad to see another one of the Daemons finding fulfilment in their chosen role.

“Master!” Ochram rumbled warmly, his voice causing a minor rockslide nearby. “Your gift was most delicious!” He slapped his stomach with one disproportionately large hand and licked his cracked lips with hunger and satisfaction.

“He ate the Spirit Stone,” Gric clarified snippily, clearly irritated.

“And for that, I apologise,” Ochram insisted.

“And the case?” I pressed, affording Ochram a certain degree of grace for his contributions thus far.

“Still intact,” Gric replied calmly, revealing the case firmly clasped in his right hand. “Ochram was about to attempt to replace what he destroyed.”

“I was,” Ochram agreed hurriedly. “I mean, I am!” He corrected, gathering his MP.

The ground beneath our feet shuddered violently and began running like water.

Refusing to panic, I trusted in Ochram’s process.

Minutes passed and the mountainside continued to shake.

I could only assume that Ochram was searching for the minerals he needed to form the correct composition for jadeite.

I wasn’t a geologist, but I was reasonably confident that jadeite was formed from metamorphic rock, and I had no way of knowing if the stone within the Labyrinths followed the same principles from Earth.

My concerns were set at ease as a pillar of green stone emerged from the ground. Several more minutes passed and the pillar continued to grow. After roughly half an hour, Ochram breathlessly ended his Spell and collapsed onto his arse.

“I have. Done my. Best. Master...” Ochram wheezed, slapping at his chest with fistfuls of nearby loose dirt and pebbles as if refreshing himself with water.

Visually inspecting the stone, it looked rough and wasn’t particularly impressive. However, I was surprised to find that it was particularly receptive to Chi. I wasn’t sure it was up to the same standard as the Spirit Stone. However, comparing it to the case that had contained the lotus, it was clear that the product of Ochram’s labours was superior.

Provided you ignored the uncut and unpolished exterior.

Returning to Sanctuary with the small pillar of artificial jadeite and Gric in tow, I found Hana and Jin just where I had left them. Interrupting a conversation in the process.

Jin shied backward and reflexively snapped into a respectful bow.

Hana rolled her eyes and turned to me for support. “Tim, can you just tell him to stop this already?” She pointed at Jin and released an irritated sigh. “It is incredibly frustrating to have Jin bowing and scraping at anyone that so much as looks in our direction.” Hana scowled and looked up at me expectantly. “We are doing something important, aren't we? So why not give him an official title or something?”

I looked down at Jin, who was determinedly staring down at the ground. “Has he been helpful?” I asked, making sure to keep my tone even.

“Wh-what?” Hana stammered, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “I, ah, yes, I would say he has been helpful...Why?”

“Given the current lack of competition, and his unique qualifications, I could award Jin the title of royal Alchemist,” I observed hypothetically.

“Is that a real title?” Hana asked curiously.

I shrugged, “As real as any other,” I replied glibly. “Admittedly, the title would carry greater weight if Jin were actively plying his trade...”

“We are working on that,” Hana replied with a sigh and then collected herself. “Will you really give him the title?” She asked. “Even if you just made it up, I think it would go a long way toward boosting his confidence.”

I glanced at Jin who had remained determinedly silent throughout. “I will,” I agreed and smiled at Hana, “He is the most accomplished Cultivation Alchemist in the entire realm, after all.”

Hana smiled and lightly punched my thigh, “Always so magnanimous!” A trail of small flowers bloomed in her hair and she returned to her garden.

“If you want a ceremony to accompany the title, then I suggest you assist me in ensuring this Formation is constructed correctly,” I warned Jin, smirking as I used MP to reshape the jadeite into a large wide-lipped bowl.

***** Chul ~ Ruinous Atol *****

Standing at his Monarch’s side, Ma Chul struggled to repress his frustrations over the command to attend a preliminary trade negotiation in person.

As head of the Jade Moon Hall, Ma Chul had literally hundreds of subordinates qualified to engage in such low-scale negotiations.

Making matters worse, Ma Chul knew from personal experience that his Monarch, Yi Gim, would not engage in any meaningful levels of trade through such personal means. There was too much risk involved and too many unknowns to afford to bring anything of substantial value.

“Hall Master Ma, you have made sure to bring the requested items?” Yi Gim asked quietly, his formal robes fluttering elegantly in the breeze.

Ma Chul bowed respectfully, “Yes, Monarch.”

Offering so many low-level manuals and Alchemy materials presented little risk, but also carried almost no room to generate a meaningful profit. Ma Chul suspected that he may have to take a loss to save face for his Monarch.

The Western barbarians and their Monarch had only recently been integrated into the greater universe of true Cultivation. Anything they had to offer in exchange would almost certainly be of low quality.

“And you are confident you have sufficient Spirit Stones for trade?” Yi Gim pressed. “I have allowed my grand-niece a stipend should anything catch her eye, but I expect the Jade Moon Hall to cover its own expenses.”

“I understand, my Monarch, and yes, I have brought more than five hundred thousand low-grade Spirit Stones!” Ma Chul replied hurriedly, fearing his Monarch’s wrath.

Yi Gim frowned slightly and it sent a shiver of fear running down Ma Chul’s spine. “You are confident such a small number of Spirit Stones will be sufficient?’ He asked, with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Do you really think they will have something of value to trade, uncle?” Hu Hae asked with barely concealed scepticism.

Yi Gim was silent for a few moments, considering the question seriously before replying. “I believe they will have something that will surprise us,” he replied confidently. “My intuition is rarely wrong. Although, I admit that mercantilism is far from my greatest strength.”

Hu Hae looked as if she was going to speak further but stopped as the barbarians’ representative began crossing the island, signalling a beginning to the proceedings.

Tall and imposing, the representative had skin the colour of pale jade and the eyes of a serpent. Ma Chul couldn’t sense the man’s internal energy but could feel raw power radiating from his heavily muscled body in waves. Cruel and beautiful to behold, Ma Chul would have believed him to be the Monarch if Yi Gim had not already stated otherwise.

“Monarch Yi,” the representative’s deep commanding voice seized the attention of all in attendance with effortless ease. “The Tyrant wishes to settle a private matter before the discussion of trade.”

“Very well,” Yi Gim agreed and motioned for the representative to proceed.

The representative turned to Hu Hae. “The Tyrant has tasked me with delivering a gift as thanks for what was freely given during our last meeting several days ago.” In the span of a heartbeat, he disappeared and then reappeared. Only now, he was holding a jade pot the size of Ma Chul’s head.

Staggering, Ma Chul nearly fell to his knees as his spiritual perception passed over the jade vessel.

Removing the lid, the representative angled the pot to reveal its contents.

Ma Chul felt an intense aura of Chi wash over him and broke into a sweat as his eyes settled on the flower floating in the pot of Chi-enriched water.

“A midnight lotus?!” Hu Hae exclaimed excitedly, her azure eyes flashing with happiness.

“Just so,” the representative replied with the barest hint of a smile.

Overcoming his initial shock, Ma Chul took a closer look at the jade vessel barely stopping himself from crying out in fury. The jade was of the highest purity he had ever laid eyes upon. Easily of the ninth or perhaps even tenth level of purity. Which only made the amateurish engravings marring its surface that much more offensive.

To allow such materials to be marred by unskilled hands was a travesty beyond words. Masters of the Masons Hall would carve out their own eyes rather than behold such an injustice.

“It is now yours,” the representative passed the pot and lid to Hu Hae so she may take ownership of it and inspect the midnight lotus more freely.

“It feels...stronger...” Hu Hae looked to her uncle for confirmation, and Ma Chul did likewise.

Yi Gim nodded sagely in agreement, “At least two stages greater in Water Affinity,” he confirmed, motioning to the petals. “See how their inner light ebbs and flows like the tide. It is a sign of higher quality and higher Water Affinity alike.”

“Two stages?!” Hu Hae exclaimed breathlessly.

“Assuming Master Yeo’s skills hold true, I have no doubts that a pill made from this material will increase your Affinity,” Yi Gim confirmed with an approving and expectant smile.

“We have other materials for trade,” the representative interjected, “All of similar quality.”

Hu Hae hugged the jade pot and snatched the sleeve of her uncle’s outer robe. A gesture that while endearing, would have resulted in a severe punishment for anyone outside of the Monarch’s family. “Uncle!!!”

“Do not fret, Hue-er,” Yi Gim replied confidently, “I gave Master Ma explicit instructions to prepare for such an eventuality. Didn’t I Master Ma?”

Ma Chul’s blood turned to ice water in his veins. Accounting for the alchemy materials and manuals, the half a million low-grade Spirit Stones, and even his Storage Ring, Ma Chul knew that he had barely enough capital to trade for two midnight lotus of such quality.

Assuming the other Monarch’s trade representative was willing to cut him a deal...

Mouth dry and hands trembling, Ma Chul swallowed every ounce of pride within his body and kowtowed to his Monarch. “Most honourable Monarch! As the Master and representative of the Jade Moon Hall! I beg you! Please extend me a line of credit for the sake of the realm!!!”

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 70 - An unexpected alliance - Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 70 - An unexpected alliance - Part One

I could tell that the old Ogre was surprised by my appearance. No doubt, he had thought I was some form of living rock Elemental like Ochram. It would certainly explain the name they had given to me thus far.

“I am like you, but different,” I explained, flexing my fingers and revealing the membrane of webbing between them. “I live beside the water, not underground.”

The elderly Ogre, Mugu, nodded in understanding, flexing his clawed fingers seemingly without realising it. “Tribe live under sun...Live with trees... Snatchers, humans, attack. Mugu take children. Follow Spirit. Hide under caves...” Speaking the words aloud, he seemed to age several decades within a handful of seconds. Which was particularly alarming given how old he had appeared to begin with.

I looked down at the Spirit, “As a Shaman, he was the only one that could see you.” It wasn’t a question. I knew enough about Shamans and Spirits to know that a special ritual was required to gain a form of spiritual sight and unlock the Shaman Class.

“The tribe has felt this one’s presence, but have not laid eyes on this one nor heard this one’s voice,” the Spirit confirmed.

“When was the tribe first attacked?” I asked.

There was a chance that I could find those who were taken. However, that possibility would almost entirely depend upon how much time had passed since the incident in question.

Mugu’s face fell and he slowly shook his head.

“Mugu was the eldest of the children...” The Spirit explained while looking at the elderly Ogre with an expression of sympathy. “If the scattered blood of the tribe persists, it is through offspring sired elsewhere...”

“Yours is not the first tribe I have liberated from bondage,” I stated calmly, forcing myself to set aside the immense degree of sympathy I held for the old Ogre’s struggles and suffering. “And they will not be the last.”

Mugu nodded his head but seemed distracted. “Child?” He pointed toward the large bed where Eg was sleeping on Lash’s lap. “Living Mountain child?”

When I had introduced Lash earlier, I hadn’t mentioned the child, but now that Mugu had called attention to her, I could feel Lash’s eyes settling on the back of my head.

“An orphan,” I replied diplomatically. I wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of adopting Eg, but I wanted to at least discuss the matter properly first. “Our children are safe at home.”

Mugu frowned slightly and appeared confused.

I Summoned projections of Pete and Suzy. Confident in the knowledge that the Spirit was incapable of doing them harm and that such a thought wouldn’t cross Mugu’s mind, to begin with.

“Daddy!” Suzy shrieked excitedly and pulled herself up my leg and into my waiting arms. She smushed her face into my chest and squeezed hard with her arms in a rough approximation of a hug.

Pete smiled up at me but quickly became distracted by the Spirit and Mugu. Retreating cautiously behind my leg, he continued to stare at the elderly Ogre with open curiosity.

“It’s alright,” I reassured him while rubbing Suzy’s back affectionately, “He is a friend.”

After hesitating for a few moments, Pete set his brow determinedly and ventured back out into the open. “I. Am. Pete,” he declared, taking great care to pronounce each word correctly and pointing to himself as he spoke his name.

I felt a surge of pride witnessing his progress. Even by Variant standards, Pete’s vocabulary was considered incredibly advanced. All the more so when his Species was taken into account. Calling Pete a genius wouldn’t be far out of place.

Mugu’s dull emerald eyes settled on Pete and his brow rose sharply in surprise. However, despite his surprise, new life settled into the features of his face. A wrinkled smile settled onto his withered lips. “Mugu,” the elderly Ogre replied, pointing a clawed and gnarled finger at his chest.

“Mugu?” Pete repeated, thinking the name over before nodding in satisfaction. “Mugu is...” He frowned and gnawed distractedly at his lip for several moments. “Shaman?”

Mugu stared for several moments before blinking several times in surprise. “Mugu, tribe Shaman,” he nodded with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Pete nodded to himself and looked pointedly at the Spirit bear. “Is, tribe Spirit?” He asked curiously, moving closer, but only by a couple of steps. Remaining within arm’s reach of the safety afforded by my physical presence.

Stunned, Mugu nodded and cautiously looked up at me. “Child Shaman?” He whispered hoarsely.

I slowly shook my head. “Pete has not chosen a Class.” Even if he did, he would have access to the adaptive Classes that accompanied the Lordship titles. Although that would require a more significant explanation than I was currently prepared to give.

“Spirit play?” Suzy asked with budding excitement, hanging from my collarbone one-handed and eyeing the Guardian Spirit with avid interest.

“Erm...It would be this one’s honour to entertain offspring of the Living Mountain and Tyrantess!” The Spirit declared with earnest fervour.

Suzy cocked her head to one side and scratched at her cheek before looking pointedly at Pete.

“Says yes,” Pete translated.

Grinning from ear to ear, Suzy leapt down to the ground with reckless confidence before charging at the Spirit, fingers splayed wide and reaching toward the Spirit’s ears.

“Esteemed Living Mountain! I would be remiss if I did not warn-” The Spirit was interrupted mid-sentence as Suzy tackled his spectral neck and seized handfuls of his shaggy fur. “-I...Am...Ethereal?...”

With the Spirit too confused to react, Suzy easily pulled herself up the Spirit’s neck and onto its back. “Heehee!” She grinned in triumph and seized one of the Spirit’s ears, drawing back its ephemeral skin and exposing its tooth-filled jaws.

Pete rolled his eyes and looked expectantly at Mugu, patiently waiting for the elderly Ogre to acknowledge him so they could continue their conversation. “Mugu, tribe. Has. Children?” Pete asked with keen interest, motioning somewhat offhandedly toward his sister and then toward himself.

Mugu nodded.

Pete smiled and nodded to himself with obvious satisfaction.

Suzy had migrated from the Spirit’s back and was now straddling its head, prying open its jaws with her arms and peering curiously into its mouth.

“Suzy...” Lash’s subdued voice carried from the other side of the room with practised ease.

Suzy froze, her eyes immediately darting toward her mother. Smiling awkwardly, she patted the Spirit’s head and climbed off of its back. “Just playing?” Suzy said with practised fluency, her tone hopeful that she had not earned the dreaded punishment of the quiet corner.

“Please, let there be no punishment on this one’s account!” The Spirit implored, somehow understanding Suzy’s predicament without also understanding the mild nature of the punishment.

“No puh-nish-ment!” Suzy parroted emphatically, her tongue tripping slightly over the unfamiliar word.

Eg whimpered, immediately drawing the combined attention of the twins.

“Who?-” Pete began to ask, curiously cocking his head to one side as Suzy rand to their mother’s side to investigate directly.

“Suzy!” Lash hissed, pinning Suzy in place as she was about to leap onto the bed.

Suzy shrunk back and slowly returned to my side.

Lash’s expression softened but also became conflicted.

“Suzy,” I lifted her up and hugged her. “Mommy isn’t mad at you,” I reassured her. “She just doesn’t want you to hurt the girl by accident.”

Tears had begun welling in Suzy’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “Girl?” She asked curiously,  peeking over my shoulder.

“A girl, like you,” I replied. “But she isn’t big like you. So you might hurt her if you aren’t careful.”

Suzy winced and shrunk back a little. She was unfortunately already quite familiar with the concept. Her size and raw Strength made playing with other children a dangerous affair. Besides her brother, Suzy had no other children her age to play with, and I suspected this was part of the reason she was so reckless.

Pete wasn’t always interested in playing with her, and even when they did play together, he wasn’t nearly as interested in playing the same games or putting in the same degree of energy and effort. This, in turn, had given rise to several undesirably reckless and aggressive habits in Suzy. making it that much more dangerous for her to play with others.

It was a vicious cycle. A cycle I sincerely hoped the children from Mugu’s tribe would be able to break.

Pete had approached the bed and stared at Eg with open curiosity. “Girl? Like Suzy?” He asked apprehensively, grimacing slightly.

Lash snorted quietly in amusement and shook her head. “Just a girl.”

Pete sighed and looked incredibly relieved. It would have been considered cruel to anyone who hadn’t witnessed Suzy’s unrestrained enthusiasm first-hand.

“Her name is Eg,” Lash continued, drawing back the blanket slightly and gently pushing Eg to meet Pete’s eyes.

“Hello,” Pete waved shyly.

Too timid to leave the shelter provided by the blankets, Eg silently waved in reply while trying to shrink back out of sight. She would have succeeded, but Lash was determined not to allow it.

“Hello!” Suzy echoed, waving excitedly over my shoulder. She quickly became disappointed when Eg did not attempt to wave back.

“She is just shy,” I consoled her. “Everything is strange and scary for her. She needs time to grow used to everything.”

“Hrm...” Suzy made no attempts at hiding her disappointment and rested her chin on my shoulder.

“Living Mountain...” Mugu paused uncertainly as he became the centre of attention but quickly regained his nerve. “Tribe children. Sue-zee. Play?” He suggested somewhat hesitantly.

Suzy perked up almost immediately. “Play?!”

From what I had seen earlier, the children of Mugu’s tribe were smaller than Suzy. However, the difference was less pronounced than the difference between herself and the Orc children living within Sanctuary. The Ogre children were also a proportionately better match in terms of overall scale.

It was worth giving a chance.

Glancing back at Pete, I could tell that he was more interested in remaining with his mother and Eg, so I didn’t bother asking if he wanted to join us. Asking might have pressured him into accepting for the sake of seeking my approval, and I wanted to avoid that form of manipulation.

I rose to my feet and motioned for Mugu to lead the way.

Sitting on my neck, Suzy pulled at my ears and hopped up and down excitedly like some sort of bizarre jockey.

I pretended not to notice the extreme lengths the off-duty soldiers made to avoid looking in our direction and by extension acknowledge what Suzy was doing.

Mugu’s tribe had been provided with a large chamber to call their own and sufficient supplies to see them through the remainder of the Invasion. However, they had not lit any of the torches or braziers, confirming my suspicions that they were no doubt a SubSpecies acclimated to living underground in a similar fashion to the Deep Orcs.

While I could see in the dark, my visual acuity suffered significantly, and making out details became difficult. However, Suzy and Pete had no such problems, having inherited at least some degree of Lash’s superior darkness-attuned vision.

The emerald eyes of the tribe locked onto me the moment I reached the doorway.

“Living Mountain...” Was echoed in hushed anxious voices for several moments before Mugu motioned for silence.

“Tribe safe!” Mugu declared emphatically, bringing immediate ease to several of the most dour faces in the room and smiles to many others.  He nodded appreciatively in understanding and motion toward Suzy. “Sue-zee. Living Mountain child. Wants play. Tribe children play.” partly a description, it was only through careful and deliberate emphasis on certain words that the elder’s intention was made clear.

“Play!” Suzy parroted excitedly, slapping my head several times in rapid succession.

“Play?” One of the tribe’s children peeked out from behind the mass of adults, his glowing green eyes staring up at Suzy.

Like a hawk, Suzy homed in on the speaker and grinned, “Play!” She repeated, hurriedly scrambling off of my neck and sliding down my arm.

Within less than a minute, Suzy had a small horde of children shrieking with anxious laughter as they engaged in a game of what might generously be described as tag.

Despite having a height advantage, Suzy didn’t dominate the game to the degree I had expected.

The children of Mugu’s tribe demonstrated a surprising ability to navigate their surroundings without looking at where they were going. Although they were by no means agile, suddenly leaping sideways and through the legs of the adults or over a cache of supplies would take them out of Suzy's immediate reach.

Not that Suzy minded in the slightest. With enough momentum and a favourable angle, Suzy proved she was capable of bowling over just about any obstacle, inanimate or otherwise.

After nearly an hour of terrorising the other children, I was strangely pleased to find that it was Suzy who looked the worst for wear. I was even more impressed by just how thoroughly worn out she had become in such a short period of time.

Stranger still, Suzy had made quite the impression on the tribe.

They had not seen me fight and had made assumptions based on my size and ability to use magic. However, after witnessing my daughter in action, it seems that their estimations of my abilities have increased severalfold.

It was strange that Mugu hadn’t been surprised by the twins' sudden appearance through Summoning. However, given his poor eyesight, there was a decent chance that the elderly Ogre may have just assumed he hadn’t seen the magical method of their arrival, to begin with.

Despite being thoroughly tuckered out, Suzy was incredibly reluctant to leave the other children behind. It wasn’t until Mugu and the other elders accepted my invitation to live in Sanctuary that Suzy relented.

While returning Suzy to Lash’s side, I briefly Summoned Hana and expressed my desire for a robust safety wall that would stop young children from wandering into the lake unsupervised. The smaller pools within Sanctuary already possessed such safety measures, albeit for different reasons. So Hana agreed without needing much of an explanation.

I hadn’t intended for the twins to linger for so long, and with the rate at which Suzy had burned through her allocated MP, her projection disappeared shortly before reaching my quarters.

“Suzy had fun playing with the other children but-” I was interrupted mid-sentence as Lash bowed her head and sighed.

“Suzy will be excited...” Lash chuckled softly and stroked Eg’s back through the blanket. “One moment,” it wasn’t a request, just an acknowledgement of her responsibilities. “Pete, come here, good boy!” Lash affectionately pinched Pete’s chin as he obediently climbed onto the bed and sat beside Eg. With great care, Lash transferred Eg’s sleeping head from her lap to his.

Pete shifted awkwardly with embarrassment but said nothing.

With equal care, Lash left the bed and made her way to my side. “You will send her to me?” She asked quietly, her voice heavy with desperation and conviction. If Lash didn’t get the answer she wanted, it was clear that she would continue pushing until she did.

“I will,” I agreed. I had no problems with Lash taking care of Eg in the short term, or even long term. But outright adoption would require a proper conversation. So far as I could tell, Lash was aware of this and had deliberately avoided the issue to respect my wishes.

Lash smiled appreciatively and I leaned down so we could share a kiss.

In the relatively short time she had been caring for Eg, Lash’s projection had suffered from significant discomfort. The drying of her skin, especially around her gills, could only be properly alleviated by immersing herself in water or spending significant time beneath damp blankets or sheets. Something she could not do without compromising her care for Eg.

“You are a great mother,” I praised appreciatively. Glad that someone so caring would watch over our children and care for the while I was away.

Lash blushed, her eyes sparkling from the unsolicited praise.

Eg whimpered, squirming fitfully in her sleep.

Sighing quietly with disappointment, I gave Lash’s projection a moment to prepare and then dismissed it.

Summoning Lash again took only a few moments, but the disruption was enough to redirect my attention toward other matters.

Most notably, the final hours of the Invasion.

From what I had experienced thus far, the opening and closing hours of the Invasion carried the greatest impact on morale.

Returning to the battle, I experimented with attacking the Beasts using my Chi-controlled stone blade.

The results were mixed.

Attacks against the Howlers were often reduced to glancing blows that inflicted minor flesh wounds. The Beasts’ bones and spines significantly reduced the momentum of the blade.

The Shriekers took considerably more damage but were also harder to hit. However, their bones lacked the same density as the Howlers’ and provided minimal resistance.

The other Beasts fell somewhere between the two extremes but made it clear that I needed far more practice before the attack could be relied upon to any meaningful degree.

Drowning Beasts with Chi-infused water required greater concentration and time. However, the natural defences of the Beasts were largely irrelevant.

Moving blood in a similar manner to water proved possible, but it was hundreds of times more difficult to control. Furthermore, the range was reduced to the point where I had to very nearly be touching the target’s body before I gained any meaningful amount of control. However, once I had control, it was all over.

Wood chi proved the most universally capable while requiring the least amount of concentration. Reshaping wooden projectiles, weapon shafts, and even the roots under the ground, I could invade the Beast’s bodies like a malevolent parasite and directly attack their most vital organs. Retrieving and reinvesting the Chi proved to be the most time-consuming and concentration-intensive element, and it was still more favourable than controlling the stone blade or drowning Beasts to death.

Spells were still the most effective weapons in my arsenal. Shape Stone in particular could impale hundreds of Beasts simultaneously or even entomb them alive. The only limit was my capacity to regenerate MP. Which was a minor issue at most in the current circumstances.

Yet Thundering Strikes proved the more lethal Spell in terms of raw concentrated damage.

Easy to understand and easier to use, I intended to provide every one of my soldiers with at least one weapon capable of casting the Thundering Strikes Spell.

With less than a single hour remaining until the successful completion of the Invasion, I made a point of using Thundering Strikes with every attack.

Each swing of my mace sent the bloody ruin of mangled corpses flying through the air and crashing into the ever-thinning ranks of the remaining Beasts.

The post-battle cleanup would be made somewhat simpler. Standards for harvested materials would remain the same, but there would be far fewer targets that qualified for harvesting anything beyond their mana stones.

It was another reason for cutting loose and making a show of things. Especially since my Bodyguards, the thunder warriors took the opportunity to demonstrate their true destructive potential.

As the final Beasts within sprinting distance of the fortress met their grisly end, the Invasion came to a close.

With practised efficiency, junior and senior officers began rotating soldiers from active duty and onto support roles in preparation for relocation to the next fortress. A watch was maintained from the walls,  but it was for the sake of maintaining discipline rather than an expectation of the fortress coming under attack.

Withdrawing into the bowels of the fortress, I opened a Breach that allowed Mugu’s tribe to travel to Sanctuary directly instead of waiting for the integration of the territory. I also made a point of explaining matters to Gric and left instructions to secure the required oaths and make sure they understood my laws.

I provided Lash and Eg with a Breach of their own, cancelling Lash’s projection shortly beforehand and allowing Lash’s true self to collect Eg in person.

I kept Bjorn, the tribe’s Guardian Spirit behind.

“When we first met, you claimed to have sensed my presence in advance of my arrival.” I made no attempts at being subtle regarding what I wanted. “How?” I demanded.

The large spectral bear shifted uncomfortably, even going so far as to cower slightly. “The Living Mountain cast waves through the ether with such vigour and ferocity that it would have been impossible for this one not to notice!”

“The ether? What's that?” I pressed, thoroughly dissatisfied with what I saw as a non-answer.

“Living Mountain! This one intended no offence! Forgiveness, please!” The Spirit threw itself into a hasty kowtow.

“What is the ether?” I repeated, doing my best to suppress my mounting impatience.

“It...It is the in-between...” The Spirit replied quietly, its body growing deathly still. “The space between places...Where souls are devoured and given new purpose and form...Where Spirits are born and die...”

“Souls...Soulless...” It was what the Variants called the wild monsters. Soulless.

“This one has memories that are not his own...” Bjorn continued, his voice subdued. “Memories that belong to another...And yet...This one also has memories that this one knows with absolute surety are his own...Still, they cannot be separated and bleed into one another seamlessly like water...”

“This ether...Is there a way to see it without being a Spirit?” I asked, my interest piqued.

Bjorn remained silent for quite some time. “A powerful Shaman may gain glimpses of the ether through rituals...” The Spirit didn’t seem particularly confident in its answer.

“You said that the ether takes in souls and repurposes them,” I paraphrased. “Does that include the souls of the humans?”

The Spirit silently nodded.

I felt a surge of revulsion in my gut.

I had long believed that there was something inherently predatory about the Labyrinths. I still lacked concrete evidence, but it was becoming increasingly clear that the Labyrinths were some form of extradimensional parasite.

Which made the Monarchs some form of catalyst for initiating widespread conflicts and bloodshed.

But why allow the Variants free will? Why allow them to exist?

The single-minded savagery of the wild monsters, the soulless, would surely have been enough for such a simple purpose.

It wasn’t like the Variants could be considered a mistake either. There were too many elements supporting and perpetuating their continued existence.

“If there is nothing else this one can do?...” The Spirit asked hesitantly.

“You wish to leave?” I was surprised that the Spirit had taken such an initiative.

“Forgiveness! Please!” The Spirit begged, “But the tether that binds this one grows thin, and the ether draws closer! This one must shorten the tether for fear it will break!”

“Tether?” I couldn’t see any bindings on the Spirit’s form, physical or otherwise.

“The tribe, their Shaman Mugu’s belief anchors this one to the shore!” The Spirit was becoming increasingly distressed and the edges of its form had begun to flicker.

“Very well,” I opened a Breach and allowed the Spirit to leave.

My thoughts turned to Ushu, the young Serpent-Kin Shaman that had sacrificed himself protecting Sanctuary.

“Why had their Guardian Spirit refused to help?” If such a tether exists, protecting the Shamans of the tribe should have been its highest priority.

I wasn’t convinced that Bjorn had lied or been otherwise deliberately misleading. However, I found myself left with more questions than answers and was all the more disturbed by it.

Speaking with Gric earlier, I learned that the champion selection tournament was making steady progress. Increasing in intensity and scale as the Dwergi drew closer to completing the venue for the final rounds.

I had originally intended to attend the tournament and witness as many of the matches as possible.

But my plans had changed...

If I was able, and had the time to spare, I still intended to attend the finals. However, there was a real possibility that I would have to delegate the task to my existing champions.

The original plan had been to seek their input regarding each candidate's suitability for the role and responsibilities. Just because someone was a good fighter, didn’t mean they possessed the qualities I expected of someone who would be elevated to such a position of power and influence. Gaining access to my Grimoire of Flesh alone would increase just about anyone’s destructive potential severalfold.

The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for handing an unrepentant and unprincipled psychopath the tools to spread misery and destruction on an extreme scale.

Oaths could only go so far before I enslaved someone in all but name.

With these thoughts weighing heavily on my mind, I raised a massive pillar of stone and used it to provide a vantage point to the portal to the eleventh floor.

Using a Breach I covered the distance in seconds instead of days or hours. Opening a second Breach, my bodyguards were quick to rejoin my side.

Carrying the guild tokens, we passed through the portal and arrived within the eleventh-floor foothold.

A foothold that we had presumed was abandoned.

The Orc’s occupying the foothold looked just as surprised to see us as we were to see them.

At a glance, I was reasonably certain that most, if not all, the Orcs were Variants. The tribal war paint made it impossible to be absolutely certain. However, the fact that they had not attacked us on sight was a good sign.

I looked to one of the older members amongst my thunder warriors and motioned him forward.

Past experiences with revealing my Species to Orcs had incredibly mixed results, and I wanted to avoid unnecessary bloodshed if possible.

Lurr passed his axe off to a companion and removed his helmet, exposing his face for all of the other Orcs to see. “Bring chief to Lurr!” He demanded proudly.

I fought back the urge to flinch.

Sometimes I forgot how crude Orc diplomatic exchanges could be.

The Orc natives muttered to one another for a few moments and then a handful of warriors retreated and went running off into the greater foothold. The warriors that remained bore expressions of extreme unease.

Which was to be expected given that the smallest of the thunder warriors similarly towered over them to how I towered over the thunder warriors in turn.

Another factor for their unease may have been caused by the disparity in each group's armaments.

The tribal Orc warriors carried neolithic weapons and wore armour made from bark, wood and bone.

While my thunder warriors' weapons and armour were predominantly made of stone, the lethality and protective qualities of each were many magnitudes greater.

Waiting for the arrival of some sort of leader, I began to notice subtle differences in the markings of the warriors. After noticing the difference in markings, I also realised that the Orcs were mostly separated according to the same markings.

Assuming my observations were correct, there were five or six different groups. Two of the potential groups were mingled together to a significant degree, so it was difficult to be certain if they were one group or two.

More warriors had filtered into the main street, bolstering their collective numbers into the low hundreds. However, they continued to show the same wary interest without signs of overt aggression.

In other circumstances, I might have been impressed by the courage of my thunder warriors in facing down so many potential enemies. However, I knew only too well that if a fight broke out, our side would almost certainly emerge unscathed.

Several minutes passed before a small host of larger and prominently decorated Orcs arrived. Upon laying eyes on Lurr and the other thunder warriors, their confidence plummeted. Exchanging worried glances, the new arrivals engaged in a short panicked conversation before electing one of their number to represent them and approach Lurr directly.

Easily eight feet tall, the heavily muscled Orc in black warpaint was forced to crane his neck upward so he could look Lurr in the eyes, but only because Lurr chose to look down at him in turn. “Korr, Black Sky lesser chieftain,” he grunted, bearing his teeth in a vain attempt to appear intimidating.

Lurr leaned down until they were close to eye level, the light of his eyes casting Korr’s face in a pale amethyst glow. “Lurr! Tyrant’s thunder warrior!”

The other thunder warriors slammed their fists against their chests in near unison, causing the tribal warriors to fall back in fright.

“Fetch. Your. Chieftain!” Lurr growled, punctuating each word by jabbing his armoured finger into the smaller Orc’s chest.

Korr fled.

A handful of seconds passed in stunned silence before every other warrior did the same.

Lurr and the other thunder warriors laughed and began establishing a perimeter.

Exploring the foothold, it became clear that the local Variants had been in the process of looting everything that wasn’t nailed down. There were also signs of the different tribes attempting to stake their claim.

There was no real telling how far away the tribes’ would be. So I decided to open a Breach and allow the Dwergi to begin forming the subterranean levels of the fortress.

At worst, the fortress would be that much closer to being ready for the next Invasion.

With so many unaffiliated Variants in the vicinity, I couldn’t send out the scouts in good conscience. There was simply too high a risk of provoking an incident with the locals.

Relying on the intelligence acquired from the Labyrinth codex looted from the guild headquarters, I knew we would need to expect a significant presence of airborne monsters on this particular floor.

Flying bugs, bats and birds would ignore the rolling hills and make good time flying above the forest canopy. Covering huge tracts of ground and arriving well ahead of most of the other wild monsters.

Then there were the wild Orcs to consider as well.

Killing the Soulless wouldn’t hurt morale to any meaningful degree. I had witnessed several large-scale purges first-hand and hadn’t seen a single Variant complain or so much as bat an eye over the carnage. However, there was a risk that local Variants would be caught up in the fog of war.

Variants had something of a sixth sense for spotting the soulless of their Species but had a blind spot when it came to other Species. Similar to how most people on Earth struggled to consistently identify and differentiate strangers from other ethnic backgrounds.

Surveying the forest around the foothold from my place behind the walls, I spotted one of the giant mantis-like Beasts carefully prowling through the foliage. Its camouflage made it incredibly difficult to spot initially. However, once I knew what to look for, I couldn’t help but notice a dozen or so of the Beasts roaming within the same general vicinity.

As tall as adult humans and covered in thorn-like hooks, they were only marginally less tolerable to look at than the bright pink and green-shelled anaconda-sized centipedes that patrolled in their wake.

Mentally reviewing the registry of the Invasion force, I felt immense relief after confirming that several Naga and a handful of Serpentmen would provide Venom Resistance Synergies.

Both Species and their SubSpecies had Evolved from the Serpent-Kin. The Naga had changed their legs for long thick tails but otherwise hadn’t changed much at all. The Serpentmens’ snake-like characteristics had been intensified, making them strikingly similar to the Lizardmen, only much slighter in frame and lacking a tail.

Looking away from the registry, I was just in time to witness a comparatively short dark-furred Beast rip and tear its way through a pair of the giant mantis’.

Covered in blood, some of which was its own, the vicious little furball spared no time in rounding on the nearest centipedes.

The carnage continued for the better part of a minute before the furball was overwhelmed and torn to pieces. However, it didn’t bring an end to the violence.

The mantis’ and centipedes continued to converge on the location, biting, stinging, and clawing at one another as they fought for their share of the spoils. Generating dozens more corpses in the process.

Just as the latest wave of newcomers were contented with their hard-won spoils, the forest erupted into yet another orgy of violence.

A swarm of tiny bat-winged Beasts had swooped in from the canopy above and descended on the hapless competition. Clinging to their prey like leeches, they bled their prey dry within moments, leaving behind desiccated husks.

Arboreal Bloodseekers.

A forest SubSpecies that I was convinced had to be related to the Vrabbits and Bloodhunters from the earlier floors.

It would take full-body armour to protect against the predators of the swarm. Armour that also happened to be in relatively short supply.

Mass deployment would be out of the question. But there was, perhaps, a means of exterminating the Bloodseekers en masse.

It would require the cooperation of at least one Venomancer and a gruesome assortment of freshly mangled corpses.

Conveniently enough, I had ready access to both...

“Apologies, Majesty...I may have misheard your command?” The Dwergi Earth Mage apologised, glancing at his fellows for support and confirmation.

“I want the contents of several refuse pits transferred to the new fortress,” I repeated patiently. “I intend to use the Beasts’ remains as part of a trap to cull the local Beasts numbers.”

“Ah...” The Dwergi nodded to one another in understanding.

“This, Majesty, we can do!” The Earth Mage agreed emphatically, bowing his head before leading his fellows toward the refuse pits.

Watching them go, I blinked away yet another notification alerting me to the Admiral’s latest Challenge request.

Keenly aware that it was only a matter of time before such a challenge would become mandatory and seize half of my realm as collateral, I returned to Sanctuary and made preparations to put an end to the Admiral’s constant Challenges.

***** Gim ~ Yi Gim’s Interdimensional-Plane ~ Ocean of Celestial Providence *****

Staring out over the endless waves, Yi Gim sighed in exasperation as his latest Challenge was left unanswered.

In truth, he had little desire to face the Tyrant in battle. Especially after learning that his oldest rival had been forced into such a precarious position as to forfeit to survive their confrontation. However, the Tyrant had left no other means by which he could be contacted.

Somehow, and Yi Gim still didn’t know how it was possible, the Tyrant was not listed under the Monarch Communication Exchange.

Even the most secluded and private Monarchs were listed on the Exchange, and while it was not advisable to make unsolicited diplomatic advances, it could be done.

Despite his forfeit, Wang Chen had died and been succeeded by his eldest daughter.

The sudden coup had caught Yi Gim and many other Monarchs by surprise. Allies of the Wang dynasty had, of course, stressed that Wang Chen had died as a result of his injuries during a Supremacy Challenge. However, thanks to his informants and the informants of his allies, Yi Gim knew otherwise.

Wang Chen had indeed been left on the brink of death after forfeiting the Supremacy Challenge. However, it was his daughter who had seized the opportunity to force the issue of succession and then executed Wang Chen to complete the transfer of authority.

In the weeks since seizing power, Wang Jie had initiated several challenges against weak Monarchs to solidify her position and prove her strength to the allies she had inherited from her father. However, to the best of his knowledge, she had made no attempts nor made any claims intending to avenge her father’s death.

Given Wang Jie’s cunning nature, it came as no true surprise. Yi Gim assumed that she would request one of her allies do the deed on her behalf, and provide as little warning as possible to secure the greatest advantage.

Of course, it was only a guess.

Which was more than he had to work with when attempting to decipher the intentions and motivations of the Tyrant.

Wang Chen had been the aggressor. That was an indisputable fact. Every spy at his disposal and information broker had confirmed as much with absolute certainty.

After winning the Challenge, the Tyrant had done nothing, and his rating in the rankings had changed little.

The Tyrant’s actions, or lack thereof, perplexed Yi Gam to no end. It had come to occupy greater degrees of his time than he should have allowed. Yet Yi Gam could not help it.

To defeat someone ranked so much higher was rare. To force them into a forfeit was unprecedented. It proved that the Tyrant had considerable strength at their disposal and that the confrontation had been so firmly decided in his favour that he most likely only sustained light injuries.

So why does he not press his advantage?

There were no limits to how many Challenges a Monarch could issue and leave pending simultaneously. Allowing an ambitious Monarch to cast a wide net and secure greater territories. It was a risky strategy, but one often employed by newly ascended Monarchs.

Which made the Tyrant’s lack of activity so incredibly strange.

Yi Gim was startled from his thoughts as a confirmation notification appeared before his eyes.

The Tyrant had accepted his Challenge, setting the terms of engagement to allow up to two subordinates to accompany each Monarch in open battle.

Intending the Tyrant no ill will, Yi Gim nonetheless erred on the side of caution and selected the familiar battleground of the Ruinous Atol.

With the battlefield confirmed, Yi Gim chose two talented members of the latest generation to accompany him.

Hu Hae, his great grand-niece was considered a rising genius and specialised in water-based Techniques. Despite lacking in raw strength due to her relative inexperience, the Ruinous Atols would more than cover for that particular shortcoming.

Gam Seok, of no immediate relation Yi Gim was aware of, was closer to what would be considered a traditional martial artist. Specialising in weapon-based Techniques and leveraging his Refined Body to wear opponents down through gruelling attrition when necessary.

With the final selections made, Yi Gim felt his soul become temporarily displaced as he was transported to the battlefield.

Having been afforded no warning, Hu Hae and Gam Seok’s immediate reaction was to arm and armour themselves with weapons and armour from their personal Storage Rings.

Yi Gim had been overseeing a floating airship combat exercise but decided that trading his ceremonial armour for something more robust was the more prudent option.

“Great uncle?” Hu Hae asked nervously, slowly retreating into the surf behind them forming the beginnings of a simple defensive Technique.

Yi Gim raised one hand to call for silence. Staring across the small island he understood why his grand-niece was so intimidated.

The Tyrant was an absolute giant. Clad in crimson-plated armour, the Tyrant looked about twenty feet tall and was almost as wide.

Yi Gim felt a certain degree of reassurance in the fact that such armour would provide a considerable disadvantage if Yi Gim retreated his forces from the island. The fact that the Tyrant’s retainers wore similar armour was reassuring as well, just not to the same degree.

“Why does he not attack?” Gam Seok muttered grimly, tightening his grip on his spear.

Yi Gim withdrew a small airship from his Storage Ring and motioned for Hu Hae and Gam Seok to retreat. “For now, fall back,” he ordered. “If I can-” Yi GIm staggered and nearly fell to the ground as a powerful presence clashed against his mental defences.

Cycling his Breathing Technique on instinct, Yi Gim felt the presence lose its purchase. However, suspecting a trap, he continued cycling.

“Great uncle!” Hu Hae cried in concern and he felt her Chi flare as she launched an offensive Technique toward the Tyrant and his retainers.

Huge crashing waves roared past Yi Gim and swept across the island, uprooting trees and crushing them to splinters as the waves converged on their intended victims.

Just as the waves were bearing down on the Tyrant, Yi Gim felt a second surge of Chi.

The waves parted and continued harmlessly into the ocean beyond.

“No way!...” Hu Hae exclaimed, bordering on the verge of panic. “They have someone with water affinity!”

Yi Gim felt Gam Seok take hold of his arm and allowed himself to be drawn along as Gam Seok retreated from the beach and onto the airship.

Several long moments passed in tense silence.

With each second, Yi Gim had expected the Tyrant or his retainers to press the attack. Only, nothing happened. After what Yi Gim estimated to be a full minute, the presence pressing on his mind retreated. However, he took little comfort in it.

The person the presence belonged to hadn’t retreated for fear of losing in a contest of Chi or will. They had simply decided to stop.

With his mind no longer under attack, Yi Gim directed his full attention toward the Tyrant.

He hadn’t moved, and neither had his retainers.

“Wh-Why?-” Gam Seok’s spear clattered to the deck and he stiffly turned to look at Yi Gim. “Why do y-y-you c-c-c-c-ontinue t-t-to- Grk! Gah!” Gam Seok clutched at his head and screamed.

“Enough!” Yi Gim barked, seizing Gam Seok’s forehead with one hand and sending a wave of Chi to dislodge whoever had taken control of his mind.

Like water crashing on the cliffs, Yi Gim’s Chi had no effect.

A second presence joined the first and Gam Seok’s screams came to an abrupt and immediate end. “Why do you continue to challenge our master?” He demanded in a voice not his own, staring straight into Yi Gim’s eyes with cold unwavering intensity.

“Sought an audience as an opportunity so we may speak,” Yi Gim replied truthfully. “I held no hostile intentions-”

“You attacked us,” Gam Seok rebuked coldly.

Yi Gim bit back his retort, convinced that pointing out precisely who had attacked who first would be unproductive. “I can only request that such an incident be considered an accident prompted by the concerns of a devoted retainer.”

Gam Seok continued to stare back at him for several moments without saying a single word and barely taking a handful of shallow breaths. “Very well.” Gam Seok’s eyes grew unfocused and like a puppet with its strings cut, he collapsed unceremoniously to the deck.

“Hu Hae, attend Gam Seok, and remain vigilant for another mental attack,” Yi Gim ordered, withdrawing a powerful but short-ranged portable Array from his Storage Ring. He took great care to encircle both Gam Seok and his grand-niece within the Array before activating it. “This will give you warning to prepare your mental defences and provide some measure or resistance to a concentrated attack.”

Yi Gim knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not if both retainers attacked in unison. However, the Tyrant’s retainers had withdrawn despite holding a clear advantage. So Yi Gim believed that they could be reasoned with.

At worst, he would ransom their release through surrender, and a little protection could go a long way during such negotiations.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Yi Gim exchanged several items from his Storage Rings to bolster his mental fortitude at the cost of reduced combat prowess. However, given the circumstances, it seemed an appropriate tradeoff.

The Tyrant had advanced to the centre of the island, his two retainers lagging a respectful distance behind.

Doubtless, they were probably capable of closing such a distance in a fraction of a second. However, it was the gesture that mattered more than anything else.

It demonstrated that the Tyrant was willing to negotiate and converse in conditions that roughly approximated good faith.

That, or he didn’t perceive Yi Gim as a great enough threat to warrant his retainers’ involvement.

In either case, Yi Gim would take the opportunity provided to initiate a dialogue and find what answers and common ground he could. After all, he had forged alliances under far more desperate and dangerous circumstances than these and was still alive.

So why not trust that his fated luck would hold a little longer?

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 69 - Affinity for Violence - Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 69 - Affinity for Violence - Part Two

With the External portal secured and a garrison stationed to make sure it remained that way, I led the remaining forces into the Hurst Labyrinth.

The Confederate defenders stationed within the first Footholds knew we were coming for them. However, it didn’t make a difference.

One by one, the Confederate garrisons fell.

Seven Invasions had thoroughly routed the Confederate forces within the Hurst Labyrinth, awarding seven territories over nine days.

I had integrated all but the first floor, leaving it to serve as a secondary garrison to intercept and imprison anyone who attempted to enter the Labyrinth through subterfuge or teleportation. Of course, there was still a persisting risk that infiltrators could teleport into the Labyrinth by targeting other floors. However, that risk would continue to shrink as floors were converted to territories and integrated into my realm.

To maintain a fast pace and keep the subjugation force concentrated while on the move, I left the search for Variants to Gric and Sebet.

The newly acquired territories wouldn’t be fully integrated and would otherwise be kept separate as emergency collateral. However, if Variants were found, Gric and Sebet were under orders to secure oaths of fealty. Assuming the Variants complied, they would be provided with new lands to call their own.

Entering the tenth floor, I felt a small degree of excitement. By all accounts, this was where I would begin to encounter those who shared my Species.

Wielding staves packed full of mana stones and bearing the Shape Stone Spell, the Dwergi wasted no time in levelling the Foothold and erecting a fortress in its place. The design had changed slightly with each floor, but the foundations remained the same.

Occupying twice as much space below ground as above, the fortress would be all but impregnable. However, the primary entrance to the outermost walls remained open.

It was a deliberate flaw in the otherwise perfect defences of the fortress.

The open gateway provided unimpeded but somewhat directed entry to what the soldiers referred to as a kill zone. In reality, the gateway was connected to a large open field that was flanked by thick high walls on all sides. The battlements and arrow slits set into the walls gave hundreds of firing positions for anyone capable of holding a bow or spear. However, it was an adaptation made to accommodate and make the best of my request and not an intended feature.

Once the Invasion was initiated, I would descend the wall and fight the wild monsters within the kill zone. Fighting on the front lines was an important component of my mental conditioning and training.

Duels and sparring were useful, but at a certain point, they became counterproductive.

While my magically reinforced and hardened stone armour made me practically invulnerable to harm, the desperation and savagery of the wild monsters provided an energy and atmosphere that couldn’t be replicated in more ‘controlled’ conditions.

Standing in the centre of the kill zone I initiated the Invasion.

Several warhorns blared in response, serving as a warning to those not present to witness the act itself.

Within less than a minute, the soldiers stationed atop the outermost walls began firing at the approaching enemies. After another minute, the first wave of Beasts began spilling through the front gate.

Large wolf-like canines covered in bony spikes led the charge, their mouths foaming with rage as they advanced under a withering hail of arrows. Thick layers of exposed bone covering their heads served as natural armour, shielding their eyes and denying my soldiers' easy kills from atop the walls. However, several of the canines fell from shear trauma alone, their hides bristling with arrows, javelins and bolts.

Already driven past the point of sanity by the Invasion, the Spineback Howlers’ simply trampled over their fallen and continued forward.

One of the thunder warriors stationed on my flanks roared, raising his large stone axe high into the air. His wordless cry was echoed by the others, each brandishing their gifted weapons with pride and savage conviction.

Like me, they would be near impossible to injure directly. Similarly, the mana stones embedded within their weapons powering the Thundering Strike Spell made every one of them an avatar of raw destructive power.

As my appointed honour guard, they were committed to remaining at my side. However, out of necessity, that commitment left the closest of them just over a dozen feet away. Standing too close would only get in the way, and as zealous as my Bodyguards were, they knew they had to afford me enough room to actively defend myself.

Just like Lash, the thunder warriors were all at the physical peak of their Species' potential, and each member stood roughly as tall as my chest. Although capable of fighting shoulder to shoulder when necessary, the thunder warriors needed nearly as much space as myself to reach their full martial potential.

The first Howler to come within six feet of a thunder warrior was decapitated by a brutal backhanded swing of his flanged mace. The second was impaled on a broad-headed spear and exploded as the owner activated Thundering Strikes and tore the Howler's body apart from the inside out. The third was brought to an abrupt halt and very nearly backflipped as yet another thunder warrior clove the blade of his axe into the Beast’s head and into the ground.

The weapons carried by the thunder warriors changed with each battle and sometimes during. It was all part of their collective goal of unlocking the Knight Class. The primary requirement of which was gaining substantial experience, and a certain degree of mastery, in a wide range of weaponry. The most senior warriors were closer than their juniors, but not by much.

Their clan has specialised in using wedge-headed axes with spiked counterweights that resembled the axes used by firefighters on Earth. It was only after accepting my protection and living above ground that they had begun slowly experimenting with other weapons. However, they still struggled with the concept of engaging with ranged weaponry.

The scarcity of materials below ground, and the blood that was shed to acquire them, made most of the former Deep Orcs pathologically incapable of discarding a weapon so casually. Even when provided with a dozen throwing axes or javelins, they would distribute the majority to their fellows and keep one or two as a backup to their primary weapon.

Putting such thoughts aside, I committed myself to the battle ahead.

Using my Chi, I impaled several Howlers with spikes formed from the stone floor. Waiting a few moments for the next Howlers to overtake them, I cast the Thundering Strikes Spell.

Bloody shards of bone and stone raked through the tide of fur and teeth, felling only the closest but wounding countless others.

With a practised breath, I drew my Chi back into my body, and a small portion of my expended MP alongside it.

I had discovered, through limited experience, that combining attacks from both systems was considerably more efficient than using only one at a time.

I imbued my Chi into a javelin and threw it into a distant Howler. Upon impact, I used the Chi to imbue the wooden shaft of the javelin with something approximating life and then cast the Plant Growth Spell. Within moments, the Howler was torn apart from the inside, branches and roots erupting from every orifice and creating innumerable more as I directed the magically animated flora into other nearby Howlers.

Using the bodies of the Howlers as fertiliser, I continued the assault.

As the ranks of the Howlers began to thin, new Beasts took their place.

Raptor-like Beasts leapt freely over the fallen Howlers, their toxic green plumage shimmering in dizzying patterns as they caught the light of the midday sun. Unfortunately, their exotic plumage did not protect them from the archers’ arrows and they began to fall in droves.

Wingless slate-grey-shelled beetles the size of human children charged alongside them and fared somewhat better. However, their comparative survivability was better attributed to the Dazzling Shriekers’ drawing focus rather than possessing a powerful defensive Racial Ability of their own.

The beetles that entered the reach of the thunder warriors were quickly smashed apart and released a foul-smelling ichor.

The remains of the Howlers and Shriekers smoked and smouldered as they were exposed to the ichor, dissolving and burning in equal measure.

Despite their primitive origins, the thunder warriors were not stupid. Upon recognising the threat, they made sure to prioritise engaging the grey beetles above the other Beasts.

The caustic ichor of the beetles quickly proved to be a greater danger to the oncoming Beasts than ourselves. Burning and disorienting the approaching Beasts before they reached melee, making them easy targets.

Time passed in a blur, my mind acclimating to the violence and going through the necessary motions as Beasts threw themselves to their deaths.

Then, I felt it.

Someone had attempted, and immediately failed, to challenge my control.

I had no Slaves and there were no Slaves within my army.

Absently crushing a Vileblood Beetle with my mace, I turned my focus toward the individual who had issued the challenge. Too used to receiving information on command, I felt a momentary surge of frustration as my mental inquiry failed to provide the target’s Status information.

Suppressing my irritation, I realised that there was a simple explanation.

The failed challenger was an Ogre.

Ploughing through the mountains of corpses, I made my way toward the gateway.

As one, the thunder warriors began pushing forwards, anticipating my intentions to a certain degree.

Viciously dashing apart the Beasts that stood in my path, I passed through the gateway and searched the surrounding forest for the Ogre.

Almost immediately, my eyes were drawn toward a surprisingly small figure cowering in the hollowed trunk of a tree. Despite their size, my Racial Ability filled me with absolute certainty of their Species.

Reminded of Pete and Suzy, I felt a surge of rage.

“Forward!” I snarled, pointing to the Ogre’s hiding place and breaking into a lumbering jog.

Ignoring the Beasts, I trampled the smaller individuals underfoot and swatted anything larger aside with my mace.

Crackling roars of thunder erupted in my wake as my Bodyguards struggled to keep pace.

My eyes remained locked on the small Ogre, the sight of its obvious fear filling me with irrepressible rage.

Flooding the Plant Growth Spell with MP, I sealed the hollow tree and compelled it to move toward me.

Roots tore free of the dirt and began hastily dragging the tree across the ground like a bizarre land squid. All the while, impaling and ripping apart any Beast that got in its way.

Concentrating intensely, my pace slowed. However, the independent movement of the animated tree more than made up for the difference.

Infusing my Chi into the tree, I warped its form and moulded it into a form that roughly resembled a large dog crate. Seizing the handle I warped the wood to bind itself to my arm.

With the small Ogre secured, I turned my back on the Beasts and began my return to the fortress.

As one, the thunder warriors fell into step behind me, hewing down the approaching Beasts with single-minded ferocity and determination.

Returning to the kill zone, I found the ground bloody but otherwise stripped clean of corpses.

Knowing it was the work of the Dwergi, I paid it no mind.

Expending a surge of MP, I parted the wall opposite to the kill zone and strode through the gap, taking only enough time to allow my Bodyguards through before sealing it shut again.

Depositing the wooden carrier case on the ground, I used my Chi to part its sides like the petals of a flower and reveal the Ogre within.

Barely four feet tall, at most, the small figure had tucked itself tightly into a corner. Knees pulled tightly against their chest and arms crossed protectively over their head, the small Ogre released a terrified squeak and vainly attempted to press themselves deeper into the corner.

Retracting my hand, I fought down the rage within and forced a state of calm into my mind.

“Food and water,” I demanded, motioning toward the opened case.

A thunder warrior dutifully stepped forward, redeeming quest rewards from thin air and silently depositing them in the case before retreating.

Squatting beside the case, I nudged the waterskin and package of jerky toward the small Ogre. “Eat,” I insisted softly, “Drink.”

Just the same as before, a fleeting flicker of resistance registered in my mind before failing utterly.

The small Ogre shivered. Sniffling and snivelling, they snatched at the waterskin and jerky, dutifully obeying the command.

Watching the child eat, I couldn’t help but notice something strange. Although they were irredeemably filthy, caked with mud and tattered so badly they were barely a step above being rags, the style and quality of the small Ogre’s clothing were almost certainly human.

With deliberate care to appear as non-threatening as possible, I removed my blood-spattered helmet and set it aside. “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” I explained quietly, trying to sound as reassuring as I could manage. “You are safe here.”

The small Ogre stopped eating and looked up at me with dark watery eyes. “E-Eg, s-safe?” The small Ogre squeaked, dirty streaks running down their cheeks as tears fell from their eyes.

“You are safe,” I repeated, injecting my words with as much confidence and reassurance as I could muster.

Without saying another word, the small Ogre, Eg, lowered their head and continued to eat in near silence. Despite their initial hesitation, it quickly became obvious that Eg was ravenously hungry.

Only too familiar with the sensation, I ordered more food to be deposited in the case.

A half an hour passed before Eg’s appetite was sated and I still had not sensed another Ogre.

Having watched the small Ogre for quite some time, I had decided that Eg more strongly resembled Suzy than Pete. Leading me to believe she was a girl, and likely only a couple of months old.

By human standards, that would have made Eg a toddler, but a Variant’s development was difficult to pin down under human standards and expectations. There was a real possibility that she was as young as a month old, although the state of her clothing made me think otherwise.

It was not unheard of for Variants to make use of human clothing, weapons and tools they scavenged or traded from human merchants. However, I had been told that Ogre Variants were captured on sight. Making trade an incredibly unlikely means of acquiring her clothing.

The stains were old, but the majority of the damage to Eg’s clothing looked recent. Suggesting that she had found or otherwise acquired the clothing some time ago. However, when also considering her half-starved state, I became certain that someone, almost certainly a human, had been caring for her.

I also became increasingly certain that whoever that person was, they were mostly likely dead.

Most Variants had a wildness to them. It was part of what allowed them to survive in the brutal conditions of the Labyrinths. But when I looked at Eg, it felt like I was looking at an abandoned human child left to go fend for themselves.

She looked all but helpless.

Scanning Eg’s features, I realised that I lacked a proper frame of reference for what an Ogre was supposed to look like.

As best I could tell, Pete and Suzy had taken after Lash to a far greater degree than myself. Inheriting my height and general build but little else. However, looking at Eg, I recognised a thickness in her features that reminded me of the face I used to see each morning when I looked in the mirror.

But as much as Eg reminded me of my old self, she looked far too...normal.

Too...human...

In retrospect, the hair was something of a giveaway. Just like Pete and Suzy, Eg was mostly bald, the tangled mess of her dark red hair sprouting from the crown of her head but nowhere else.

Gathering my MP, I Summoned Lash.

Already generally aware of the situation through the impressions provided through the Summoning, Lash wasted no time in kneeling beside the crate and inspecting Eg for herself. “So brave,” she cooed soothingly, gently thumbing a tear from Eg’s cheek. “It is alright, you are safe now.”

Lips trembling, Eg had initially recoiled from Lash’s touch. However, after determining Lash intended her no harm, Eg stopped resisting and allowed herself to be drawn from the crate and into a warm comforting embrace.

I leaned in and kissed the top of Lash’s head. “I need you to take care of her...I...” I felt a fresh wave of hesitation building in my chest, the temptation to leave the battlefield to others. With a force of will, I renewed my resolve. “I will return later...” I promised, already counting down the hours until I would Summon her projection again during my recuperation period.

It was the single indulgence I had allowed myself as a source of motivation to continue the Invasions.

Strapping on my helmet, I looked at Lash one final time before parting the wall and returning to the battlefield.

Three hours passed, and still, the Beasts continued flooding into the fortress.

The Dwergi emptied the kill zone at the end of each hour. All the while, a work detail of soldiers ferried corpses into a central processing station where any useful materials would be harvested before the remains would be dumped into one of the storage pits.

The Ogres arrived in force just as the floor of the kill zone was restored.

Unlike the Beasts, wild humanoids were heavily influenced to seek out the source of the Conquest or Invasion but were not compelled to do so. Which was why the Ogres had arrived as a relatively organised and somewhat unified force. However, the moment they stepped across the threshold of my supremacy aura, they became incapable of defying my will.

I was the apex of our Species, literally a born leader and Born to Rule enforced it.

On the other floors, any wild monster that attacked the fortress was killed as a matter of course. Those who did not would later be extended the opportunity to swear oaths of fealty alongside the Variants. However, until this moment, there had likely been less than a dozen or so individuals who had met those conditions.

The Ogres were different. They had been denied the opportunity to attack in the first place, regardless of their original intentions.

And now I had a choice to make.

Just shy of being Enslaved outright, the Ogres were bound to my will.

Which made them my responsibility...

Regardless of their original intentions, the thought of having them killed filled me with an intense feeling of revulsion.

“Hold the grounds before the entrance,” I ordered, waving the thunder warriors forward while slowly advancing toward the gateway myself. I looked toward one of the Human officers on the wall, “The Ogres are not to be harmed!’ I commanded loudly, the tone of my voice making it clear that I would accept no excuses for failing to abide by it.

The command was quickly echoed up and down the walls and into the fortress proper.

Unlike Eg, the assembled Ogres continued their approach toward the fortress. Only now, they were fighting against the Beasts instead of alongside them.

Larger than a Human, the tallest of the approaching Ogres were only eight feet tall at the most. Many were a full head shorter.

Clothed in simple hides and armed with clubs and crude wooden spears, the Ogres' Racial Abilities and numbers carried them through the carnage. Shrugging off vicious wounds and retaliating with single-minded ferocity, the Ogres steadily moved out of the forest and began the final approach toward the fortress.

“Let them through,” I ordered, waving my Bodyguards aside and motioning for them to establish a larger perimeter.

One by one, the hundred or so Ogres warily passed the thunder warriors, and to a man, proceeded to bow their heads and lift their hands, offering up whatever they happened to be holding.

It was a gesture I recognised as a demonstration of supplication and deference amongst primates. Which, while initially surprising, also seemed somewhat appropriate considering what I knew of Ogres thus far.

My eyes were drawn to the largest of the Ogres, a heavily scarred brute with thick bone piercings embedded in his forearms.

Sensing my gaze, the Ogre gulped loudly and began to nervously shift his immense weight from one foot to the other. “Ugg obey! Ugg boys obey!” The Ogre declared, his deep voice thick with fear. “Obey biggest! Ugg not lie! Uh, uh...Ugg promise!” Ugg insisted with earnest desperation, greasy bloody sweat dripping down his scalp.

Timorous murmurs of assent rose from the other Ogres and they lifted their offerings higher while pressing their chins hard into their chests and comically displacing the fat of their second and third chins.

Despite being spattered with gore, the assembled Ogres looked more like frightened children than monsters. It would have been quite amusing if it wasn’t for the pitched battle taking place behind them.

I pointed back toward the fortress. “Go, sit by the back wall while I decide what to do with you all,” I commanded.

To my immense surprise, the Ogres hurriedly moved to obey without a single individual attempting a challenge. Eyes still firmly fixed on the ground, causing them to stumble and bump into one another.

“Withdraw,” I commanded, waving the thunder warriors back into the kill zone.

I re-entered the fortress proper and waved over one of the supply officers. “I want the Ogres armed and fed,” I ordered bluntly. “Spears, halberds, great axes, war hammers, anything that will suit their size but won’t require a great deal of skill to use without posing a significant risk of generating collateral damage.”

I would have ordered armour for the Ogres as well, but I doubted they would be able to equip anything meaningful without direct supervision and instruction.

“As you command, Majesty!” The supply officer snapped a quick salute before gathering his subordinates and marching into the kill zone.

Returning to the kill zone myself, I allowed the Ogres a few minutes to gorge themselves on supply rations and then formed them into a rough semblance of a formation.

Despite being rather simple-minded, the Ogres understood that they were being tested. Ugg in particular made a point of grunting and growling at any of his smaller kin that strayed from the places I had assigned them.

After watching the Ogres fight for half an hour, and witnessing their formation devolve into a chaotic sprawling melee several times in rapid succession, I decided to try a different approach.

Withdrawing the Ogres from the battlefield, I had them enrolled in basic training.

I had low expectations overall but was reasonably confident that with enough repetition and training, the Ogres would be able to hold a basic formation without breaking ranks every few minutes.

A series of horn calls announced the sixth hour of the Invasion and the rotation of forces stationed on active duty.

Withdrawing into the subterranean levels of the fortress alongside my Bodyguards, I stripped my armour and began cycling through the list of approved visitation Summons. Each Projection would have enough MP to last up to two or three hours, depending on the degree of activity. In some instances, the MP was divided among several projections. Although that situation was rare and required special consideration for approval.

For most, it was an opportunity to catch up with family members and spouses. For a few, it was the opportunity to engage in more intimate activities. In either case, it was a guaranteed perk of serving in the subjugation force. Provided they possessed no demerits, each soldier was entitled to a visitation request once per twenty-four-hour period of active service.

The precise workings of the overall schedule were managed by a team of support officers and clerks. All I had to do was use the provided reference information to Summon the requested projections.

The entire process took between half an hour to an hour, depending upon how many requests were approved.

During my active periods, it served as a short break from the violence of the Invasions. However, in my self-imposed rest periods, I found it tested my patience more often than not. Delaying the time I could spend alone with Lash.

It didn’t stop me from Summoning her early, but I still found it difficult to truly relax until we were alone.

The projection of Lash I had Summoned earlier was still active, so I resisted Summoning a second. The overlapping memories created by multiple active projections could disorient the original unless carefully managed. So it was simpler and more considerate just not to do it.

Entering my chambers, I found Lash sitting on a second smaller bed, quietly humming and gently stroking Eg’s back while she slept with her head resting on Lash’s lap.

At a glance, I could see that Eg had been somewhat thoroughly washed and given new clothes.

Changing into a fresh set of clothes, I entered the recessed pool containing my bed and released a sigh as my dry skin was rejuvenated by the water.

Reluctant to risk awakening the child, I left Lash with Eg and resigned myself to sleeping alone.

Returning to the battle, it didn’t take long for me to fall back into the brutal rhythm of violence.

Hours passed in a bloody haze and the signal came for the second shift change.

Withdrawing from the battle, I remained just behind the wall to the kill zone. There were only a couple more hours until midnight and I needed to be awake to concentrate on the Born to Rule Ability and reduce its range of influence. When the new wave of wild Ogres arrived, I didn’t want them butchered by the Beasts.

Sitting on a block of shaped stone, I passed the time by practising my Chi control. Spinning a stone blade end over end and trying to increase its speed without losing control. I found that picturing images of propellers helped both with concentration and increasing the speed of rotation. Which matched my experiences with controlling Spells as well.

My control was still insufficient to maintain the effect during combat conditions, but I believed that it was only a matter of time before I had enough practice to do so.

Shortly before the next shift change, a runner from the wall delivered a report to the on-duty officer, prompting her to seek me out in turn.

“Majesty, please excuse my interruption,” the officer apologised.

I stopped my Chi control practice and motioned for her to continue.

“More Ogres have been spotted approaching our position,” the officer reported.

“The wild respawn?” I asked. Less of a question and more of a base assumption.

The officer hesitated, immediately drawing my full focus. “It is unclear...Those with superior senses have only just confirmed their presence. It will take some time for further details to become available...”

“Bring me the best scout,” I ordered, gathering my MP and preparing to cast the Keen Senses Spell.

If there were more Variants, and they were out in the open, I had a responsibility to shelter them from the warzone I had created.

The runner was sent back to the wall and returned shortly afterwards with a mottled grey-furred Gnoll in tow.

“Hehe, Ruk-Ruk obeys the Tyrant! Hehehe,” the Gnoll cackled nervously, tail tucked between his legs.

I motioned for Ruk-Ruk to come closer and bit the inside of my cheek.

Whining anxiously, Ruk-Ruk obeyed. Despite towering over the nearby Humans, he was still head and shoulders shorter than I was while sitting down.

Resting my hand on his head, I combined the MP with my blood and cast the Spell.

Thin tendrils of blood streamed from my mouth and toward Ruk-Ruk’s head, covering his eyes and entering his ears and nostrils.

Ruk-Ruk continued to whine but made no attempts to pull away. The sclera of his eyes took on a deep bloody hue and crimson tears replaced the black markings on his face.

With the enhanced Spell complete, I withdrew my hand and allowed Ruk-Ruk a few moments to acclimate himself. I was uncertain how the enhanced version of Keen Senses would differ from the original, but I strongly suspected it would be in some way permanent.

Bloody drool dribbling from his mouth, Ruk-Ruk licked at his muzzle with a flat wide tongue that looked painfully raw. Ears twitching, he sniffed at the air and opened his eyes wide with wonder. Tail wagging excitedly, Ruk-Ruk cackled and looked up at me earnestly. “Gift is great, hehe! Tyrant, generous! Hehehe.”

I acknowledged his thanks with a nod and then pointed back toward the wall. “You can repay me by investigating the approaching Ogres further. I want to know if there are Variants amongst them.”

Ruk-Ruk nodded eagerly, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he turned and ran back toward the wall on all fours in a loping sprint.

He returned less than a minute later. “Females! Hehe! Cubs!” Ruk-Ruk announced excitedly. “Shaman guides! Spirit protects! Hehehe!”

“Variants...” I nodded to show I understood. I turned to my Bodyguards. “We are leaving,” I growled, rising to my feet and looking down at Ruk-Ruk again. “And you will guide us.”

Ruk-Ruk’s tail wagged so fiercely it was a wonder it didn’t snap off entirely.

Chasing Ruk-Ruk out of the fortress and through the forest, I was impressed by his ability to navigate through the scattered tide of Beasts and maintain his intended heading. All the while, stabbing, slashing, biting and clawing at any Beast that presented an opportunity.

I was keenly aware that a male's standing and marital prospects in Gnoll society were based heavily on reputable observations of their prowess in hunting and battle. So it didn’t surprise me that Ruk-Ruk was taking this opportunity to show off.

Assuming the enhanced Keen Senses Spell had some form of permanent effects, I doubted Ruk-Ruk would have trouble finding a Mate.

All the same, I made a mental note to mention his usefulness to Rikit when Summoning the next wave of companionship projections.

After running for several minutes in the dark, I was becoming worried. However, the sounds of distant combat began filtering through trees ahead.

The shrill cries of the beasts were broken by defiant roars and the crash of heavy weapons striking bone and timber.

Crashing through the trees with renewed vigour, I came face to face with a small band of pale grey-skinned Ogres with glowing acid-green eyes. At their head was a spectral bear.

Contrary to my expectations, the Ogres carried no weapons. Those on the edge of the group fought the Beasts with their bare hands. Ripping, tearing and bludgeoning them with booked claws and sharp calcified growths that protruded from the back of their knuckles.

The bear Spirit turned in my direction and roared, drawing the immediate and undivided attention of the Ogres behind it. “The Living Mountain has come!” Its growling voice rumbled like a landslide, echoing through the forest.

Overcoming their surprise, the grey-skinned Ogres whooped in celebration, redoubling their initial momentum. And now headed in my direction.

“Allow them to approach,” I commanded. “And cover their flanks so we may speak freely and without interruption.”

The thunder warriors grunted obediently and began fanning out into the nearby trees. Hewing down Beasts as they moved through the shadows.

Sparks flew as razor-sharp claws scraped across stone armour, and Beasts cried out in hollow fury as they were hewn down with ruthless efficiency.

The increased haste of the Ogre troupe revealed women, children and even a handful of elders at the core of their loosening formation.

Free to ignore the Beasts outright and pass through the obstacles in its way, the bear Spirit closed the distance between us in a matter of seconds. “Living mountain!” Similarly sized to a north american grizzly, the spirit pressed its snout hard into the earth at my feet, splaying out its forelimbs in an awkward approximation of a kowtow. “Living Mountain! This one humbly begs a boon!” The humility in the strained snarling speech of the spirit was at direct odds with my expectations.

After experiencing the haughty indifference and selfishness of the Pale-Fang’s guardian Spirit, I had expected that other Beast Spirits would be the same.

It was nice to be proven wrong.

“This one has little to offer, but this one can guarantee that the charges under this one’s care will serve the Living Mountain with the utmost loyalty!” The Spirit’s claws curled like fingers and it pressed its snout deeper into the ground. “So, please! I beg! Extend to them your protection!”

“You knew I would be here,” I commented, probing the Spirit for information without admitting to any ignorance on my part.

The Spirit nodded. “This one may be weak, but this one has felt the approach of the Living Mountain for several cycles...”

If the Spirit was telling the truth, it meant the Spirit had somehow sensed me across multiple floors of the Hurst Labyrinth. Even if I hadn’t originally intended to take in the Ogres, I would have done so just to learn what the Spirit knew.

“I will offer them my protection,” I readily agreed. “However, they will be expected to follow my laws and provide for themselves through honest labour.”

“Of course!” The Spirit agreed hastily, “This one’s charges will obey the Living Mountain’s every command!” Shimmering spectral tears ran freely down the Spirit’s snout. “The Living Mountain is most just and benevolent!”

The Ogres had caught up and staggered briefly as they entered Born to Rule’s range of influence. The effect was so concentrated that I doubted resisting would have delayed the Lesser Domination any longer than conceding at the first opportunity.

One of the elders pushed through to the front of the group and shambled forward on unsteady legs. “Living Mountain-” The elder pointed to me with a gnarled clawed finger and then back toward the other Ogres. “-tribe obey. Tribe follow Living Mountain?” He squinted up at me from behind the thick wrinkles ringing his comparatively dull green eyes.

“Your tribe is under my protection and you are now my people,” I replied. “Obey my laws, and your tribe will prosper. That is my promise to you and your people.”

The elder bowed his head and raised his trembling hands in supplication. Despite his advanced age, the elder’s claws were thick and sharp, and his body was packed with thick muscles beneath his wrinkled skin. As frail as he appeared to be, it was only by Ogre standards. If he had a mind to, the elder could probably tear a grown man in half without breaking a sweat. “Living Mountain commands. Tribe obeys.”

At the elder’s words, the other members of the tribe emulated the gesture in cowed silence that bordered on reverence.

With my Bodyguards intercepting and dispatching the approaching Beasts, I was able to lead the tribe of Ogres back to the fortress without incident. However, the brutal efficiency of the thunder warriors had made quite an impression in doing so.

The Ogres stared at them in open-mouthed awe, flinching, baring their teeth and whooping in fright with every Thundering Strike.

“Such power...” The Spirit commented quietly. Its words were nearly lost to the riotous thunderclaps echoing through the forest.

Making the final approach toward the kill zone, I noticed something I hadn’t expected.

A dozen or so Ogres were gathered against the far wall and were attacking it with savage abandon.

One of the Ogre’s had lost hold of its weapon and by chance noticed me while moving to retrieve it.

For a moment, it was unclear what the Ogre would do. Then, without any attempts at alerting his fellows, the ogre screamed a warcry and charged.

Hundreds of Beast bodies littered the ground and caused the Ogre to trib several times.

With all of my bodyguards positioned outside, there was no one else between myself and the Ogre. Even so, I stared down at the Ogre with complete confidence.

The moment the Ogre came within twenty feet of me, he tripped over his feet and collapsed. Only this time, he didn’t get back up.

I looked over at the remaining Ogres and expanded my aura.

One by one, they dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, expressions of absolute terror plastered on their faces.

Gathering my MP, I opened the wall and led the tribe of green-eyed Ogres into the fortress.

“Snatcher! Snatcher!!” Cried one of the Ogres, pointing angrily at one of the nearby officers.

The officer stared back at the Ogre with surprise. “I...Uh, that is...Majesty-”

I raised my hand and motioned for silence. “Do not worry, I understand what is happening and know that you are innocent.” Gric had been incredibly thorough in vetting candidates, and I trusted his judgement implicitly.

The officer relaxed and nodded silently in appreciation.

I turned to the officer’s accuser. “These Humans-” I waved toward the fortress at large, “-are not snatchers. Anyone who attempted such a crime would be severely punished...”

It was technically a white lie, given the teams I had loaned to the Midnight Caravan specialised in seizing control over Slaves.

“Gronk wrong,” the elder agreed, “No snatchers,” he shook his head emphatically at the Ogre who had made the accusation and gave him a bonk on the head.

The Ogre looked confused, seeming to doubt himself as he looked between the officer he had accused and the elder.

The elder narrowed his eyes and began raising his fist for another strike.

“Gronk wrong!” The Ogre yelped in a panic, backing away and shielding his head with both hands.

The elder huffed and nodded to himself in satisfaction before cautiously glancing in my direction. No doubt afraid that Gronk had damaged their reputation or put their asylum application at risk.

Trying not to laugh, I ordered food, water and blankets to be provided for the tribe.

After sending someone to fetch Ugg, I set him to work recruiting the wild Ogres that were beginning to arrive with increasing frequency. Although it was confusing for the new arrivals, Ugg proved surprisingly competent at the role.

Making no attempts at arguing or bargaining, Ugg simply throttled anyone who didn’t immediately accept his position of dominance. These beatings became less frequent as those already beaten stood in solidarity with Ugg, joining in on said beatings and intimidating those who arrived after them. As if they had not just received such a beating themselves for not recognising his authority.

Watching the process from the outside, I could tell that Ugg was holding back while delivering the beatings and making sure the others didn’t take things too far. It was obvious that he had a significant amount of experience in recruiting through such measures. Taking into consideration the force Ugg had commanded in the first place, it made sense that he would have experience in recruiting weaker subordinates.

If there wasn’t such an immense difference in power between us, I might have been worried.

***** Mugu - Hurst Labyrinth ~ Tenth floor Subjugation Force fortress *****

Huddled alongside the other members of his tribe, Mugu ran his clawed hand over the smooth stone wall of their new home. His senses were fading and his memories did not answer his call as readily as they once did, but Mugu was certain he had never experienced such smoothness in all of his life.

Hands trembling, Mugu was reminded of the strange dried meat he was still holding in his other hand.

The younger members of the tribe were still watching him, waiting on Mugu to make his decision,

Mugu felt a flush of embarrassment for losing focus. “Meat good, eat,” he pronounced and then stuffed the dried meat into his mouth.

Agra, Gron and Nug experimentally nibbled at their own dried meat strips. One by one they nodded in approval. “Meat good,” they agreed before helping themselves to more.

Releasing a collective sigh of relief, the younger tribe members began helping themselves to the meat and feeding the children.

There was a strange taste to the meat, but Mugu found it tasted far better than cave crawlers, and it didn’t make his insides burn either.

“Mugu, it is time we showed our respects to the Living Mountain!” Bee-Yawn, the tribe’s guardian Spirit, insisted impatiently.

After struggling with the large words for a moment, Mugu slowly nodded in agreement.

They had already been given so much. It was time to ask what they could do in return.

Drawing the furless hide tighter about his shoulders, Mugu hissed as an uncountable host of minor pains flared across his body. After the pain passed, Mugu removed the bone necklace from around his neck and passed it along to Agra, signalling his intention that she would be the new leader if he did not return.

Agra had pushed and demanded Mugu to pass on the necklace for a long time. But now that she was holding it, Mugu could tell that she was having intense doubts.

It had been the same for Mugu when he had been given the necklace by...

Mugu tried to remember the name of his father but was unable to do so. Worse still, he couldn’t remember what his father’s face looked like either.

Mugu looked down at his wrinkled and withered hands. They began to tremble and his knees suddenly felt weak. He could still remember a time when his hands had been different. Remembered the day the village burned. He could still smell the smoke and hear the screams of his people...

“Mugu...” The tribe’s guardian Spirit reached out a paw and pressed it against Mugu’s chest. “The village is gone...But your people endure! Do not dwell on such dark chapters of your past. Instead, look to the bright future and the opportunities you have given to your people!”

The Guardian Spirit had been the one who had shown Mugu the caves. Allowing him to lead a small number of his fellow tribesmen to safety. However, the caves held dangers of their own. Despite enduring as best as they were able, Mugu was the last of the tribe who had seen the village with his own eyes.

He was the last one left...

“Mugu!” The Spirit’s essence flared and pressed into Mugu’s soul, driving back the despair and lifting the fog that had crept into his mind. “It’s not your time Mugu. The tribe endures, but it still needs your guidance! No one else can see me! And even if Agra could, I sincerely doubt she would listen!”

Mugu chuckled softly. The Spirit was right, and until Mugu knew for certain that they would be able to endure without him, he would endure as well.