*** two hours ago ***

Lord Serra was still trying to figure what the hell was going on, lounging on his extremely comfortable divan sofa seat he had designed. For over an hour he viewed and re-viewed the many tabs dedicated to the city and the guild base's management finding he basically had a big brother power of being able to see everything within the city's limits. And with everything, he meant *everything*. It took only a few uses of that certain feature to know this was not possible within the YGGDRASIL game world - spying on a few couples doing... couple's stuff. It basically broke every single law restricting what could be viewed within the DMMO-RPG.

But looking over the city, his monitor passed over the City Barracks when he saw a group of three inside one of the upper chambers, the Bravo team Serra had written many misadventures about, being given orders by the Azure General. It was interesting to see all these NPCs being active and 'alive', something he always imagined in his inner mind but something he never thought he would see in reality.

Without thinking, he reached in his inventory space to see if he could pull out a specific item. Pulling back out there was one of his character books in his hand, one of many he had uploaded onto his avatar. This book was actually not an in-game item but an empty file one could create and deposit into their game accounts. So it was just a simple text file that showed up as a book icon within the YGGDRASIL game but ran off a different .exe function. Serra used these files in multitasking, playing YGGDRASIL (usually farming) while typing out his various stories. But how would this item work now?

Opening up the book, he was relieved to find all the text he had already written into it was still there. Its contents was about a future character in his works that would become one of the main heroines of the sixth arc, Valla. It was filled to the brim of her character outlines, class structure, outlines of stories she would feature in, etcetera. Flipping to its last page of text, Serra placed his pointer finger on the line below the last word. Nothing immediately happened until he thought of a specific phrase he really wanted to be there. Then magically - a sentence of black characters appeared as if being freshly inked onto the page.

But I wonder if I can make more of these.

After depositing Valla's book back into his inventory, Serra opened a tab associated with the Great Library and used a copy function on a random book stored in its database and lo and behold, the same type of book just appeared out of thin air in front of him. Grabbing then flipping through its pages to confirm it was the right selection (it was), he double-checked to make sure the original file was still in tact (it was).

However, Serra wanted to test a new theory as he tried to erase all the data present on this reprint. After closing it, he poured his thoughts into thinking how he wanting it to be - a book with empty pages. After a full minute, he opened the book to see nothing. All the text was indeed gone. Again, Serra tried to shape his thoughts into words on its first page and was fascinated to see an entire paragraph self-write itself. He then focused on that paragraph vanishing. And it did.

Amazed at this development, he deposited this book into his inventory for it to become a later test subject. The big question was - would anything he wrote in these books become real in this new world. Or if he edits a character biography in the registry, would those changes make an overwrite on that person within the city. It was a scary thought to think if his words or even thoughts could have *reality* shaping powers over the NPCs of this island. But further testing was needed.

Serra's inner muse was set aside as his eyes picked up on the monitor his Bravo team taking flight from the Aviary.

Where are they going?

Intrigued why these three Owl Knights were taking flight, he used his bird's eye view to scout the riders circling the island's perimeter. It seemed they were just scouting their surroundings. Serra continued to watch them with the city camera as they never ventured outside its five mile radius. He felt like a voyeur, yet nothing interesting happened. Until two hours in when the Bravo team broke away from the island's border and soared westward, his ability to watch them growing distant. Serra's ability to pan in and out with the camera ended at the borderline, although he could still use its zoom function to see another 10 miles away, but it did not take long for the three riders to extend beyond his sight.

There were so many unknowns about this world, to even what was out there? Were other YGGDRASIL players like himself here? Was there even any sentient being outside? Lord Serra did not know the answers to such things, and he certainly did not know how powerful he was in this setting – maybe lv.100 was a small fry, maybe not. But Serra was absolutely certain he did not want to die (nor his NPCs) for doing something stupid or careless as he was not assured resurrection magic even worked here.

Divination in general had wide usage in the game world, as it was not limited by class, and there were many an item which could be crafted to supplant or even enhance such magics. Serra pulled out one such magic item from his inventory - the [Mirror of Remote Viewing]. It was simply a bronzed oval mirror which classified as a middle-class item carrying the permanent use of a [Crystal Monitor] spell. Normally such an item was rather useless on its own but when combined with various scrying spells, the floating mirror would display its visual and store its images for a set amount of time. This allowed the mirror's user a nifty camera view of a target location. Thus it became one of the most valued and purchased middle-class items on the YGGDRASIL market going upwards of ten million gold coins.

Casting [Greater Scrying] through it, Lord Serra targeted the captain of the Bravo team and his image with his surroundings soon appeared onto the mirror's reflection. This was not his strongest scrying spell but it was his most useful being an 8th tier cast that can bypass most anti-divination counters under a 6th tier. Besides if *this* spell was blocked, it would mean a high level player with countermeasures in place was in the vicinity and while that would be cause for alarm, it would also prove their existence.

However the trick was figuring out how to work the [Mirror of Remote Viewing] as it did not function like his city camera. It took over half an hour to realize it would not work off simple mental commands but with the [Crystal Monitor] spell of the mirror having to be channeled to control its viewing purposes. It was more of an interactive device. But eventually, Serra was able to pan out his view of the young captain to see more of their surroundings - a veritable sea of grassland not unlike the Earth he knew. That was until his focus shifted to the small sign of civilization in the Owl Knight's proximity.

From afar, it looked like they encountered some 500 humans in a small town setting. The three elves of the Bravo team were lv.40 with their owl griffon mounts being lv.50 so they would be a decent measuring scale for these 'native' beings. Hopefully, combat would be avoided and they just happened to stumble upon a town district. But then their meeting was cut short by images Serra could not make out in the distance as the elves splintered off to prepare a defensive perimeter.

His anxiety started to build as the elf captain began to rally the humans into a combat formation. Their battle line was before a large stone silo structure that they had encircled with [Grand Column]s. It was looking like a last stand. Minutes later - a horde of were-creatures came into view, all rushing towards the waiting defenders. Many looked utterly bizarre and unlike the YGGDRASIL demi-human races with these 'beastfolk' obviously not having the friendliest purpose in mind.

Serra could not measure their individual power from the [Mirror of Remote Viewing] but he decided to let the Bravo team fight them to see how they fare. Maybe they were just low-levels mobs but his stomach ached seeing their few thousands in number. The battle soon started and the knot in his gut started to unwind a bit when he saw these beastfolk start to fall like flies. Certainly these 'enemies' were trash level by YGGDRASIL endgame standards if they were being one and two-shotted by these Owl Knights. Even one of the human soldiers was having an easy time by the looks of it using skills and maneuvers Serra did not recognize.

But as the battle progressed, he grew more and more disgusted by these demi-humans. They fought like rabid beasts and were openly salivating mid-battle. The seraph's eyes narrowed when the battle shifted against his NPCs. His characters became enveloped in a desperate struggle to withstand this mounting horde. Serra did not want to lose the Bravo team here as their deaths may not be reversible in this new world setting. Plus the seraph was moved by the tenacity and heroism displayed by the defenders.

Reaching out, the player took hold of his guild weapon (Sharanga) and fully prepared himself mentally for this battle. And in that single moment's time - the bow itself pulsed through ever fiber of his being, filling him with a surge of limitless energy. Then just as fast, the echo it left behind was this strangest feeling of depletion, like his body was no longer whole. Serra's mind went woozy to the sensation, but the weapon no longer vibrated in hand.

Was that some sort of empathic *premonition*? The Lord Serra could only wonder what that conundrum was, not knowing its answer would soon be revealed.

The seraph's mind snapped back sharply to the situation at hand and utilized a specific item within Sharanga's construction - the [Portal Stone]. It was a rare god artifact item that could be used to create [Portal]s within the Nine Worlds setting. However, in the hands of a talented spellcaster, this item could also be used as a focus to augment in-game teleportation mechanics. And with three charges, each on a 10 hour cooldown, it was a nifty enough item to have on its own. But its make within this guild weapon not only gave it an extra charge, the god artifact granted the user numerous daily skills to be used.

One of which Serra activated, [Warp], a teleportation skill that has near limitless range and is instantaneous on use. Its only two setbacks were it had a single target function and so could not be used for mass transportation while the other required a set jump point to activate. The latter restriction prevented quick teleports into a dungeon or special instanced areas in the game world. All guild bases, even Serra's Divine Realm, had this built-in protection from 'zoning' in but not going out. Otherwise one would need another high grade item to function as a 'bridge' to break that gap.

In this case, the guild weapon served as both the origin and the end for the needed jump.

"-whoa." To the player, it all happened in a split second. The entire process felt like being sucked through a vacuum as his body rushed towards that faint light in the tunneled distance.

Serra had teleported roughly a hundred feet in the air and right above the battle as its sights and sounds overtook his dazed state. The player came upright without even thinking to do it, magical wings sprung from his back to right himself mid-air. However there was a problem as he took the long length of his guild weapon into a draw to cast his spell. It was the thought of friendly fire. In YGGDRASIL, not all magic had isolated effects and 'splash' damages was a common mechanic. The party and raid member interface made it a non-issue but in this new world, the seraph was now fearful of any unintended consequence of his actions.

After all, below looked just a mass of beastmen bodies.

But the sensation happened again as his body pulsed with a primal force. It was coming from Sharanga. This time it surged through him, radiating an energy that filled every pore on the player's body. This too felt almost natural, its warmth embracing him in what could only amount to its *aura*. Or rather its spiritual essence latching onto his body like a third arm. IT was a most unearthly feeling yet stronger than any 'magical' effect he has felt since coming to this new world. IT was as if he was the center, a bright light, in his own cosmic universe.

And in that single second of time - tendrils from that central sun coursed through his entire being like electricity. They were expanding and probing, but it was not like an alien mind coming from Sharanga itself. No, it was more a shared sentience. The guild weapon was showing its user the full scope of his potential. And in THAT frozen moment, the Lord Serra understood.

Knowing there was no more reason to fear, the player drew Sharanga in a single confident stroke... and loosed. What came forth looked a golden explosion of perfect spherical symmetry.

The spell Serra casted, [Holy Nova], was a Tier-8 divine magic with an effect duality. Its radiant area of effect strike would damage targets caught in its radius but party or raid members within would instead be healed by its magic value, with the caster alone being the lone exemption from this magic effect. Thus [Holy Nova] became an intensely useful aoe spell to have in one's repertoire.

As the golden blaze faded below, the seraph could see its full ramification. Every beastman caught within its 17 yard radius had been burnt to a gold crisp. Their forms broke into ash with the slightest breeze or movement from the still living. Many beastmen avoided this instant death but were still slain by the concussion damage from the blast zone. Their scorched corpses flung backwards as if hit with a shockwave of force. Only those hostiles who stood some 10 yards away from its outmost radius survived though they all held a score of fried wounds. Barely a hundred of them made it through with their lives in tact.

But what horrified these survivors most of all was seeing how none of their adversaries suffered the same under this radiance. Instead the opposite happened - every human who was on their deathbed and even those whose bodies had been ravaged by their teeth and claws, now looked whole and unharmed. It was an unbelievable sight and one that shook them to their core.

Then both sides of this conflict looked up as one to see the *light* hovering above them all.

Of course, the player's initial fear was WHAT would classify as a 'raid' or 'party' member in this world setting. However, Sharanga showed its maker the possibility or to be more specific - it allowed Serra to better dictate the functionality of his moveset. THIS would form the basis of discovering his guild weapon's true capability in this new reality.

The owl griffons reacted first as their squawking and flapping of the wings brought sound to the previous sizzling silence. And that was more than enough for the remaining beastmen to cry out in their fear and finally break into a retreat. But they would not get far.

The Lord Serra again drew the long length of Sharanga's dragon heartstring, readying its arrow of magic to be casted. For the player it was as if time and motion was moving at a snail's pace. It only took half a second for him to decide on which spell to use and another three for enough of the beastmen to gather in its target circle.

This loose from the seraph discharged like thunder, and one that crashed and crashed upon the fleeing number.

This spellcast was [Thunderstorm], a tier-5 spell of the arcane line. It was a bit of a gimmick spell as its base damage was lower than the tier-3 [Lightning], however it had better utility in creating a temporary magic field that would do continuous damages every two seconds for its eight second duration. The field would also reduce a target's resistance factor and make them more susceptible to its damages or to another spell of its element.

But the real strength of this low-tier spell was how it was auto-boosted through Serra's build and the spellbow from which it was launched. Sharanga, despite being a massive stat stick, granted any spell launched from it a +magic boost and a +spell penetration augmentation, the same high class ability any other specialized make of spellbow would have. While this particular function could not be further augmented through a user's metamagic, it did not take away from a spellbow's rather cheap on-use mechanic.

The other additive was gained through one of the player's elite classes - Divine Hand. It was a bonus feat that could elevated a spell within the first five Tiers to the equivalent of a tier-9 power. Granted it did have a little drawback, this special passive did not work on all spell listings (barely half) but it worked on enough of them to make even the lower Tiers of magic endgame viable. As such, Serra had found that quirky yet precise combination to turn his entire build into a cost effective powerhouse, despite not relying on an extensive range of top Tier spells.

The silent crowd gasped then trembled in awe to the spectacle of this once in-game combo now made real. The result was a storm of death that flashed blue and echoed in the near 50 yard distance, lightning fell onto its victims while other bolts forked to pierce those on its outer rim. The air even looked electric for another 10 seconds as the ground quaked to its power. This time there were no surviving beastmen as the bolt which killed them left a neat smoking hole through their corpse.

Scanning the field to ensure no other hostiles were around, Serra could see everyone was starting at him with a gaping expression.

"Did I overdo it?" the player wondered to himself. From his perspective, he thought he held back. Of course the seraph was entirely unaware (at this moment) they all saw his *light* as this extraordinary visage, a miracle even.

Serra tried his best to remain calm and ignored the pointed looks thrown at him as he started his descent. He was happy to see his six NPCs unharmed after this little debacle but he wanted to as the old saying goes, "get out of here asap". Hovering towards Theodas who just seemed to recover his bearings after the chaos, the young elf knelt in prayer, head touching the ground, as the seraph landed before him. The other two Owl Knights had also gotten on a knee while their sacred beasts were hooting this triumph while pawing the ground with their heads in a bow.

Maybe Serra had not thought out his actions (thoroughly enough) as he now remembered his 'deity' status and such an apparition by himself to his creations would be highly unusual. It was made more uncomfortable due to the looks of absolute stupefaction the humans were giving him.

And his newfound empathy was not helping matters here - all those feelings crushing around him giving him a nervous tick.

Quickly moving his attention back to the young captain, his melodic tone spoke in a near whisper, "Raise your head, Theodas Aelfgar." The one in question did immediately as told. His helmet was still astray so Serra could get a good look at his tense face and teary eyes as he gazed upon his Lord Divine's shining form.

"You have a mission to complete. Do you not," the seraph continued. "Your people back home are counting on you to report on these findings... so you cannot die here and leave your brethren in the dark on what has happened." Tears were now falling down the young elf's cheeks as he then heard, "We are counting on you."

Theodas did not verbally answer him in return but instead closed his eyes, another pair tearing before dropping his head in a bow. His jaw-long auburn hair, messy from the heat of battle, swayed to the movement as he felt the light of their God vanish before him.

The situation was getting a bit too awkward for Serra's tastes so he used one of his racial abilities to turn invisible. It had near the capability to what the tier-9 [Perfect Unknowable] spell provided. It was a skill with a 2-hour cooldown, not as readily convenient as an invisibility spell but was still significantly useful. Plus it could be triggered while in combat to make a quick escape.

Which the player did here. In his mind - Serra began to reflect on all those errors he thought he made but despite those thoughts of his blind stupidity, he could still see the silver lining. He saved the Bravo team and even those they fought so hard to keep safe.

And THAT made it worth it.

****

It had all gone to Hell.

The borderline of their kingdom had been broken, again. Marcus Ervarius, Vice-Captain of the Dragon Queen's personal guard, had volunteered to evacuate the small villages and towns in the area south and east of Artxu in an attempt to keep casualties low. Manpower was a "depleting resource of theirs" as he explained to his little queen who kept forbidding him from leaving her capital. Her last attempt to dissuade him involved bringing up his age (53) and how he was too old to be leading such a perilous mission.

"But that is the very reason, I should be the one to go. This is how I can best serve you now." Marcus could remember stating these words on bended knee, the little beauty crying in knowing her sworn sword was speaking the truth. As a royal knight of her kingdom, he still held the authority to conscript anyone he deemed useful for battle. Marcus may have passed on his official title and duty to his most trusted second two years prior, he was still one of the best warriors in the realm of men. Age may have dulled his blade but he could still match any of the Four Knights of the Baharuth Empire.

Marcus also explained how the company he had prepared for this task was only a hundred strong, skilled on horseback, and conscripted from the various refugees forced from the countryside. None were young men and all were veterans like himself. Most were not versed in any type of combat but their knowledge of the terrain should serve well as a scout and escort party, but twenty of the recruits came from separate divisions from her militia forces.

"Let us try. It is very least we can do." It was last sentence he spoke to the Dragon Queen who finally relented and gave her permission. Her Prime Minster also used this as an opportunity to make their detachment a courier and go-between to prepare a new battle line at their city of Arxtu. This atleast put their queen a bit at ease in knowing a friend of nearly 30 years was not marching off to simply die.

Their trek to Arxtu went quick and without a hitch, and their meeting with the governor there was cordial and productive. Their party got a better layout of the land south and learned the movements of the beastmen warband moving in the region. Since most of those had banded together in recent weeks - due to the Theocracy mercenaries in the area wiping out several of the enemy scouting parties - they were much easier to spot and were being tracked miles westward of the city walls. That meant the way south and east was more in the clear to look for any surviving hamlets that may have gone unnoticed in the beastmen advance.

Marcus's little division was given some wagons and even a dozen recruits to man them before setting out again. The governor had warned they had maybe a five day window to make it back to Arxtu before the beastmen doubled back around in their patrol for their supply lines. Their next trek also went without a hitch - finding a couple small villages nestled in a remote area with four hills, before rounding back to a larger farming settlement with a stone mill. It had only taken four days but they managed to find some 600 of their fellow countrymen, most of whom were completely unaware a massive horde of man-eaters had broken through their borders and could be hot on their trail.

Then as they were making camp for that night, the strangest thing happened. A pair of enormous winged beasts were floating just above their sight. The spectacle was both wondrous and terrifying. Was it a new type of beastman? Likely not in Marcus's view but these two creatures were not unlike anything he had ever seen. The closest thing they resembled was a griffin, but they had a more robust body with no talon-like limbs. Plus their faces more resembled an owl instead of an eagle or that rare falcon breed that exists in the City-States.

As the two beasts landed a good 80 meters away, two others dismounted. This scattered the gathered crowd whom got transfixed at this sight. Marcus had to immediately harden his resolve for battle as many from his unit rushed to form a shaky battle line. But as the two intruders got closer, they did not have the normal features of beastkin and were garbed in very handsome armor. This took the edge off the 'situation' so the Vice-Captain felt it was safe enough to make an approach, then only to back off as the size of their beasts (steeds) came into better view. But this too was remedied when both riders made a gesture to these magic griffins whom promptly sat down much like a well trained puppy. One even took off his helm showing a very non-beastman face but it was not until they were a mere yard apart that Marcus realized with tension that he - and likely his companion - was an elf.

To the Vice-Captain, the elf spoke of nonsensical matters as it pertains to common sense: Owl Knights looking for civilization, 'moon' elves, their kingdom hailing from the Great Forest of Daine, and complete ignorance of the beastmen threat. He just did not make any sense. Then the elf spoke of this *Tel-Quassar* being an island in the great wolfwood.

Of course, it all came crashing to a halt when a third great beast descended upon them out of the blue. This sight frightened them to no end, but the warning the third rider declared was a pronouncement of death. A horde of four thousand beastmen... they should have had more time.

Was this elf kingdom somehow in cahoots with these man-eaters? Marcus's thoughts began to wander back to such an unlikely alliance before his ear picked up these bold elves discussing defensive tactics. Some relief came from this but they would still soon be sacked by a force more than thirty times their number. But the lead elf's tone to prepare for the coming battle brought some nerve back into their assembly as the Vice-Captain tried to rally to make a stand and atleast give hope to refugees that all will be well.

Not that Marcus believed THIS himself. Moments later, he and his unit could only watch in awe as the elf and his griffin mount literally produced a stone wall out of thin air to surround the granary they used to house the non-combatants. Not long after the other two elves returned telling their captain the beastmen would soon be nigh on them. After being told the defense strategy the elves were going to employ, Marcus relayed those orders to his men then led his most experienced fighters to be with the vanguard.

Then strange magics gripped the old veteran and what felt like a hot energy infused his whole being making him feel *powerful*. Two felt familiar but one was an enchantment unlike any he ever felt before from the Draconic Kingdom's court wizards. Even the Dragon Queen's best clerics could not cast such a spell. His body felt light, the blood raced through his veins, and even his senses were sharpened to a degree they never were before. Marcus knew right there he was stronger now than he had ever been ever before, and this gave him hope.

The beastmen arrived, wearing a score of injuries but still whole, but bore them looks of wanting to rip them apart. Their many snarls followed by chanting of "meat!" gripped him in fear but also an anger sparked in knowing what these brutes intended. The elf was pointing his gleaming blade at the big bear-man as a last warning. Any human (or elf) would look insignificant against such a foe before this beastmen was nearly beheaded by some ranged projectile.

Both sides were stunned into a silence before the beastmen roared and charged. Then the battle was on and unbelievably... they were winning against these ridiculous odds. The strength of these elf knights was a real sight to behold. Oddly, they did not seem to be using Martial Arts but were still overwhelming through base skill alone. The head elf of their party moved with a swordsman's grace, his slashes too quick to follow with the naked eye. The other elf used a morningstar mace shining with a distinct light and his blows felled any beastmen that got into its range. The three griffins proved to be magical monsters on this field of death - their spells of gusts and thunder shattering the beastmen line and their ferocity mauling any who attempted to circle their formation. And from his high vantage, the third elf's arrows struck their foes with deadly accuracy.

However not all good things last and the battle turned ugly. Despite countless kills, countless more beastmen took their place and their defensive position became a pile of death. That pile soon turned into a mound of bodies. It became almost impossible to stand their ground with the litter of corpses thrown about. Then Marcus took one, two, five blows to the head. He knew that elf had been using magic to heal him and keep him going but that fifth knocked him out for good.

Everything became a surreal fantasy after which image and sound blended into a symphony of confusion. In a moment's time - the pain in his body rushed him all at once and Marcus knew there, the end was nigh...

A golden light shattered his illusion like spun glass. Its warmth covered him like thick clothing in a winter breeze. Its magic dispelled all his pain and fatigue like it had never been there, as if it were all a lie. Marcus knew not how else to explain it.

When the blaze faded, all sensation seemed to return to the scene. The first sight he saw was the beastmen - those bodies closest to him reduced to smoking casts of golden ash.

"-whaa..." the human could barely utter those words to this impossibility as Marcus tried to regain his bearings. HOW was this even possible. Looking around, his fellow soldiers were also at a loss for words, and even they looked whole and unharmed from the half hour of grueling combat.

Most of the beastmen lay dead. The ash-like statues began crumbling into a flaky dust while smoking corpses with golden burns were strewn about the wayside. It looked like he was in the epicenter of some great explosion that rocked the beastmen ranks and only their ranks. How was this even possible. Marcus could only make out a couple dozen living beastmen left.

Then everyone notice the distinctive light shining above them and as one, both sides raised their heads to gaze upon it. The elf griffins were the first to act, their squawks and beats giving sound to their stammering stillness. Marcus gasped, and so did all the others, to this divine figure. The remaining beastmen who survived the golden blast then cried out, a noise close to a screeching chicken, and began to flee.

One. Two. Three... and a boom rang out like thunder. For the briefest of a second, Marcus thought he could make out the streak of lightning but it faded just as quickly. The air flashed blue and the ground rumbled, and in the short distance where the beastmen ran, a storm of lightning rocked the earth. Its bolts killed anything it touched, floating the beastmen bodies before they dropped to never move again.

It was too unbelievable. It was a *miracle*.

The light then descended before the elf captain whose name he just remembered (Theodas). The figure looked like a man of a multi-faceted light and his brightness made it hard to get any specifics except for those shining wings. But every inch of him seemed to glow - from his hair and eyes to his clothing and giant bow - which gave him an almost 'girly' appeal. This not being a blasphemous description by Marcus's account yet before his eyes could adjust to get a better look at this *angel*... the light vanished.

To the humans present - it seemed the world itself lost a bit of its luster with his departure as reality settled back in and the gruesome entail of the last thirty minutes was once again realized. But everyone was still wearing a look of utter astonishment to what had just occurred.

Theodas rose from his 'divine' stupor, hand on his face in a clear attempt to keep his emotions in check. Marcus quickly rushed over to his side, almost stumbling into him, before asking in a breathless voice, "W-Whoo wass t-hat, ssir?"

The elf turned in response, tears still visible on his face as he answered in three words, "Our Lord Divine." His voice was almost broken but he went to recover his sword and helm with Marcus at his heel inquiring about this "Lord Divine" and what he was. His magic steed soon bumped into him in a loving gesture but even this magical beast could not frighten the human off now. Most of the answers Theodas gave him were "he's the god of their people" or "the lord of the isle" but it did not take Marcus long to realize who this *light* represented in this elf culture.

So Marcus changed tact, "Forgive me, sir, but could I inquire once again to your status?"

Theodas almost smiled as he once again bowed his head and stated, "My name is Theodas of House Aelfgar, Captain of the Owl Knights, and subject of the Celestial City and its divine majesty. Might I be given the name of the brave man whom I just fought beside?" A smile was on the elf's face when he finished his introduction.

"You may," with the Vice-Captain giving the elf and his compatriots a salute. "I am Marcus Evarius, Vice-Captain of Her Majesty's royal guard, Draudillon Oriculus, queen of the Draconic Kingdom. And on behalf of everyone here, let me officially thank you for the service you have rendered onto us. We would surely be dead now if not for your heroism." The old veteran finished with a formal bow at the waist.

The other soldiers present also spoke words of gratitude and even applause began to clap out for the elves and their magic beasts, whom stood head up and proud to the attention, as Theodas replied in turn, "Please sirs. We did only duty." The elves were more humbled in their appreciation as they tried to gather themselves to make leave.

Their captain continued now atop his owl-like griffin, "This victory may be ours but the Lord Divine is the reason we are still alive."

It was clear to the humans these elves were about to fly off and THAT was something Marcus could not allow, not now.

The foreigner seemed to sense this shift in Marcus's bearing as he imperceptibly said, "I'm sorry but we must get back to our City in due haste. My superiors have to be informed of these beastmen people and the threat they pose."

First and foremost, Marcus Evarius was a man of the sword and not skilled with his tongue. So in terms of politics, even internal affairs, this Vice-Captain's mindset was not suited for such verbal warfare. But the veteran knew enough that these three elves (and their magic steeds) were worth more than a kingdom's fortune and a possible alliance with such a trio alone could help them overcome the doom devouring their lands.

Thinking fast - Marcus knew he had to appeal for their aid, or atleast make a possible alliance sound attractive enough for them to bite. This will likely be his only chance, "Theodas-dono, as for what me and my unit is doing out here; we've been dispatched on a mission, by our Queen, to scout the countryside for any of our people that might have survived the enemy advance. We find ourselves... a bit outmatched here." The head elf of the group paused as he took interest in his honest plea.

"It is paramount to evacuate these refugees to the closest city. Arxtu is but a couple days from here and we can accompany you there, or more accurately, you could accompany us there." The veteran was eying his flying mount and thinking of the aerial advantages that would give their traveling party. "Once there - I could introduce you to the city governor and in such case, make the first appearance of your people to ours go as smooth as possible. Can you excuse our restlessness from before – as you can see, we find ourselves in quite a... dire situation." Marcus finished his proposition hoping for the best.

Another reason he wanted their company, beyond the tactical advantage, was to also keep an eye on them. After all, one can not be too careful in these trying times and a new nation of elves in the east could cause future complications if left to their own devices. The worst case scenario would be for these elves to isolate themselves even further when they might be the only chance for the Draconic Kingdom to survive. Plus they have a living 'deity' on their side.

The elf seemed to think of these merits as he looked to his cohorts who raised no debate on it. The only thing Marcus heard was, "It's your call, taichan." Theodas about it for ten seconds more before amiably agreeing to join in their escort to this city of Arxtu.

Of course, none saw the invisible seraph slap his forehead or heard his groan to the situation that had developed.

*** five minutes later ***

High above the green landscape, an invisible angel soared over the magical visage of an unspoiled world this player had only ever seen in fantasy. However his thoughts were not on any of these sights but in deep reflection.

*He* had been so stupid. Lord Serra was replaying the last few minutes over and over in his mind and critiqued each and every error he made. And there was many. First off he dallied too long in the open after using [Holy Nova] and [Thunderstorm], allowing his image to be seen by the human natives. They seemed quite 'judgy' to his very late appearance as if they were saying, "Hey, why didn't you show up and do this ten minutes earlier?!"

Second - 'this' was completely out of character for his avatar. He knew in his own works what Lord Serra just did would be called a *divine intervention*. His NPCs seemed shocked at his timely arrival (as written) but surely word of this would spread throughout the Celestial City. Now, would Serra have to roleplay in more appearances to placate the masses? The last thing he needed was an immediate change to the island's status quo barely half a day into this freaky isekai world.

Then lastly, the Bravo team instead of hopping on their steeds to fly back home, are now joining the human escort to a far off city. That defeated the whole purpose of his speech to Theodas to report *this* back to your seniors. He may as well have not said it. Serra's stomach was starting to grumble as nervousness began to overtake him - his nerves feeding off his new empathic sense, making him feel more ill.

But a sudden [Message] request interrupted his thoughts.

["Serra-sama! Where are you, I felt you disappear and almost died from shock! You can't leave us like that!"] Falke's almost hysterical voice echoed through his mind, the valkyrie's stress almost physically exhausting him.

["Please calm down, Falke. There was... an incident that needed my immediate attention. I'm currently on my way back, do not worry."]

["What?! No, stay there, I beg you! I'll be there in a second! Kharon, teleport me to our Lord's side. At once!"] Falke's voice now in a near whine, each word spoke in rapid succession.

Lord Serra froze in midair and was starting to sweatdrop like a little kid being chastised by their parent. In time that would barely register as a moment, the invisible angel was suddenly in the company of a very flustered silver-haired valkyrie (sporting her own wings) who was fully equipped for battle. It took the beauty another second to register the surrounding area before turning towards her lord, completely red-faced, and started scolding him. To the naked eye, it would look as if the flying knight was complaining to the wind.

"Please, my Lord, you can't go out like that! What would happen if you were to be ambushed by an enemy that you couldn't best? What about us. Your people, your followers. Would you abandon us without a second thought? I-"

"Calm. Down. Falke." Serra paused after every word so the valkyrie would heed his tone. "I was not abandoning anyone! As I said, there was a situation that required my immediate attention – but we can't continue this here. Let us go back for now, no wait..." his thoughts changing. "Here take this," opening up his inventory to hand her a top grade artifact item [Ring of Greater Invisibility].

"Put this on and activate it." The spell imbued within this ring could be activated once an hour and would last for as long unless the magic was dispelled or a restriction was broken through its user. The silver knight looked like she still had plenty to say, but she swallowed her words for now and did as Serra bid.

"Good, now follow me. I want to look for something." Falke likely wondered why her lord simply did not teleport back to his inner sanctuary through the use of the guild weapon he currently had equipped or through a [Gate] Kharon could easily as make. So why was her lord flying back through this unknown and possibly dangerous area? But she bit her lip and followed as his path now went a different course.

Lord Serra took notice of the speed of which they were flying, the land underneath them literally zooming by. Between that and the feeling of his own wingspan, it was too surreal. They had to be going over 300 miles an hour and it became a reflex to look back to make sure he did not outfly Falke. But the valkyrie was always a comfortable ten yard distance behind him which made him wonder if they could soar even faster. Serra himself certainly did not feel as though he was 'pushing it' by any stretch.

The route the two had taken was some north of the area they started. Serra was looking for something in particular and found one within twenty minutes - the outlines of a city in the distance. It was rather small compared to the Celestial City but as they came up to it, the stench coming from it almost got to him. It was a mixture of rotted flesh and burnt ash.

Serra abruptly pulled his wings slightly upwards to both slow his speed and to hover in place. There was no absolutely no kickback to the impossible aerodynamics in this single motion and he did this as though it was a natural reflex, as though Serra had known it all his life. Falke's was just as as smooth and was hovering a yard to his right, her gaze fixed towards the human city and warspear at the ready. He made a small hand motion at her to stand down, they were not here to fight but observe (gain intel).

This city was more of a walled up town from medieval times. The only structure that stood out was a large three towered keep towards its south end. The side gate they were facing had long been battered apart and several corpses, more bone than flesh, hung upside down and tied to large wooden planks planted in the ground astride the entry's path and went deeper in. A warning perhaps?

Still invisible except to those with the sharpest of senses, Serra and Falke began to hover 30 meters over the city looking for its occupants. Nearly all of it was abandoned - each building, from the largest stone manse to the smallest wooden hovel had been clearly ransacked. The smells were the worst though. Blood and gore stained the pavements red and brown while crows and other vermin were scattered everywhere picking at pieces here and there.

Hearing a bit of commotion coming towards this city's central area, Lord Serra activated his [Sense] skill... and was hit with such a wave after wave of *feeling* that he felt like drowning in water. He choked back his breath, enough that he cancelled its effect lest it consume him.

"My Lord!" Even Falke felt the shift within him and was hovering in front of him, her face full of concern.

"I'm fine, Falke," said Serra after coughing a bit. "My [Sense] skill just overwhelmed me a bit."

[Sense] is a skill nearly every player or NPC had access to but it had a wide varying range for each individual, as many racial and job classes could build upon it. For instance: a high level Ranger's [Sense] could potentially detect anything within their 300 yard radius and identify them with remarkable precision, even inanimate objects. In comparison, Serra's [Sense] could detect the presence of life and undeath and its general direction and quantity (but no specifics), without the use of mana. Of course that was in-game. The feeling Serra just got when triggering it here was a explosion of savage glee and hunger mixed with despair. It was like his new empathic sense was dialed to 11 hundred.

Falke immediately looked back, spear at the ready, but Serra intervened, "No Falke," shaking his head in the negative and so the valkyrie desisted. Reaching his right hand out, Serra then said, "[Detect Life]." This was a 3rd tier spell of the cleric line that could perform nearly the same level of feats as his [Sense] skill augmented by his full class makeup. Although this one costs mana to use and can be easily blocked by basic anti-Divination counters. However like any other Detection spell, its effect will be continuous for upwards to 10 minutes unless cancelled or another Detection spell is activated to replace it. And thankfully, this [Detect Life] spell did not swamp him into a sea of emotion.

Lord Serra could now magically survey what laid before the two of them and he was taken back to sense roughly 40 thousand living creatures before him. He was still in the dark as to 'what' these living creatures were but it was not hard to make a guess. The seraph and valkyrie were still hovering 30 meters in the air as they approached over the scenes below them. The stench, not of blood but their own body odor, preceded them. It smelt like sewage water. And soon enough, numerous beast-like creatures encamped within the city's central district area were in their eyesight. Lots and lots of them.

Speaking in a low voice, Serra explained to Falke, "These look to be the beastkin demi-humans in this setting. Apparently they prey upon the humans native to this world." This time Serra pointed to a smaller area they were hovering over now where holding pens were visible, the livestock here being naked human beings. Serra was careful not to be overheard but even he knew his voice would still not carry to any sharp ears below due to their greater invisibility being able to mask sound. You would need special classes or magical assistance to spy on 'invisible' conversations in the YGGDRASIL game world. This was another reason Lord Serra was speaking aloud instead of through [Message]. He was testing whether or not these beastmen would be able to pick up their position.

Serra took a closer look at the humans. They were alive but their expressions were dead. This is probably where the *despair* he felt came from. Disgust filled the player at what he was seeing but he was shocked to find it was not enough to move him into saving these people from this horrible fate.

I can't play *hero* and save everyone, Lord Serra justified to himself. Seeing his own NPCs on the brink of death compelled him to venture out of his inner domain and risk exposure but this was not 'comparable'. He guessed his own fantasy storytelling coupled with his cynical view of his former (dead) world really did changed him. Perhaps for the worst as Serra did not even consider himself 'human' like those below him. He was always a bit of an introvert but this was a weird inflection of the person he thought he was.

Was *he* always like this? Or perhaps his own physical change added to the complexity? He is (now) a seraph class angel after all. Or does it have something to do with his newfound *empathy* where his emotions became more rigid and controlled but only within himself. As a fantasy writer, the concept of characters with empathic powers generally meant one became more feeling. But perhaps in this case it had a bit the opposite, bringing more of his own inner self to the surface.

Then there was the fiasco with his [Sense] skill. That sensory *overload* on his mind was unbearable. But could he train this 'sense' to see and hear the way the human eye and ear can isolate a single image or sound from a collective? Because as it was now, his [Sense] was near useless and that could make him vulnerable in the future.

It looks like I'm going to have to learn how to use *it* properly. All the other skills and spells Lord Serra employed thus far felt natural and worked as intended. Hoping the others will fall into the same mold, the seraph turned his head while he and his companion continued to hover over the large encampment of hostiles. It was the common human gesture of inquiry, in this case wondering if the beastmen were even aware of two intruders high above their position. It did not seem so as they all continued to act completely unawares.

"Disgusting brutes," Falke remarked after they passed over another area of human pens. This time they were treated to a sight of a group of beastmen (butchers) preparing a meal. Several arms were hacked off then what looked to be shamans casted healing magics to stem the bleeding and in a rare case, regrow the arm, before the humans were shoved back into a pen.

But the most stunning development of their little recon was seeing how low-leveled these natives were. At best, they felt near a 20 threshold yet most were 10 levels or under. Did his island 'spawn' in a lowbie zone or was this the normal power scale of this region? Too many questions that still need answering. Serra again felt an itch to help the people below but it was not enough to scratch. Instead he said-

"I went to a human village to deal with the latter half of one of these beastmen warbands," speaking to Falke of his abrupt absence. "The Bravo team had been engaged with them for over 30 minutes and were starting to get overwhelmed so I had to intervene," but stopped as Serra heard a yip-like sound.

Turning around, the seraph could see the valkyrie starting to weep heavily for some reason, which only made him wave his hand in a futile attempt to calm Falke down. The last thing he needs now is another assault on his senses but she sniffed then cleared her eyes, "I'm so sorry, my Lord – I-I thought that you had gotten bored of us and wanted to go away... I-I never dreamed you were actually more benevolent than I imagined." Her emotions were like a rising volcano. "Going this far to protect your followers... please accept my m-most sincere apologies."

The silver knight had actually managed a dogeza whilst in midair. It was a bit of a silly sight.

But Lord Serra was at a loss how to respond because what he felt he did was not all that groundbreaking. He just teleported out to kill some rodents bothering his creations. Of course he would go 'that' far but then he remembered these NPCs are no longer bits of programmed code but living and feeling creatures now. *Now* a bit cowed himself, the seraph nodded once to Falke before turning his head to contemplate their next move.

The beastmen below had no idea two beings far above their station could have easily annihilated them. Whether or not the Lord Serra even considered them a real threat was moot because the gears of war have already begun to turn towards their eventual demise.

*** meanwhile ***

Six figures sat a rather dark circular chamber. The only light provided was from a single chandelier with its [Continual Light] enchantment but it only half lit the room. There was no windows to let any natural light in and the stone walls were of a dark color that seemed to void any reflection. In the room's center was a beautifully carved oval-shaped table with an intricate outline painting of the nine worlds of YGGDRASIL connected to the World Tree. The table itself held a map database that could access nine large maps, one for each realm and its zone data within, not that such maps would be of any more use in this new world.

This was Highcrown's Strategy Room - a closeted area within the Celestial City's guild castle where the Prince and his High Command conducted their 'secret' meetings. The room itself shared in the same warding as the guild castle to where only the Super-Tier of magics or a World Item could penetrate its boundary. However this particular chamber had a Scramber device built into its construction giving it another counter layer. The command table was displaying a digital layout of the current mapping of this world they just landed in - but since it had been less than a day so far, the display was not very large nor greatly detailed.

Every member was gathered around the table. The one speaking was a handsome aged elf with his thin dark hair neatly tied into a ponytail which fell behind his back. One could spot a gray hair or two but his appearance well hid the fact his age was well over 400, one of the few moon elves still alive who saw the Celestial City grow into its glory. His outfit, like the other seated generals, was military-styled from 20th century Japan but his own was a primary navy blue from collar to hem with numerous accessories decorating his wear.

He was Alluin the Azure, the general in charge of air control and their rearguard defense. He was currently reporting to the other five present of the earlier [Message] he had received from the Bravo team, detailing their recent experiences, which he deemed important enough to call for an emergency meeting - the first of such since their island had been transported to this unknown frontier.

Alluin really wanted to berate his young captain for his shortsightedness and kind bleeding heart. Risking themselves and their sacred beasts to protect strangers from a large scaled foe to the bitter end? The last thing the Celestial City needed was to be drawn up into a foreign war barely a day of their arrival. It was pure folly and if it were not for their Lord's *intervention*, the Bravo team would be dead and the High Command none the wiser. And now the island itself could be at risk against these man-eating beastmen.

"... From what he reported, these 'beast-men' feed on humanoid beings, humans and apparently elves alike, with no remorse or restraint. 'A very barbaric lot who should be considered a terrible hazard to our people' the Captain described them as," as the Azure moved the discussion on the threat level they present. "The Bravo team found no evidence of these creatures being within the limits of the great woodland the Celestial City is now atop of but it is possible that somehow we got planted over their forest community and they all perished under the weight or these beastmen have managed to cloak themselves from our eye thus far."

"Either or - we are still in the middle of their territory by the sound of it." The Emerald stated this to the group at large. This was the general in charge of their overall intelligence network.

"Correct, but from what the Captain gathered from the locals of this 'Draconic' Kingdom, these beast-men invaders do not have a full fledged kingdom of their own nor do they hail from the demi-human nations to the east of our current position on this map," the Azure answered back. "Apparently they were a collection of various tribes and nomadic clans in this region that one day, banded together with some exiles from the East to overrun the human countryside and begin sacking their cities. Their offensive against this Dragon Kingdom over the past five years is a more recent turnabout from decades to centuries of their past behavior. Their modus operandi goes - the beastmen army sieges a city, then sacks said city, then feasts on the city, then leaves city to go find another. Each process can last several months to a year."

"Disgusting," the Emerald said with a twisted look marring her pretty face.

"The Vice-Captain of the Dragon Queen's Royal Guard believes the total enemy number to be upwards of 100 to 120 thousand," the Azure finished with his initial report.

"Bah, I wouldn't worry too much this. Three of our wet-ears managed to hold off a few thousand of these beast-men." This came from the Onyx, the general in charge of the city knights, who literally just waved off even acknowledging *this* as a threat. Tvorryos's main duties focused on the city's defense and keeping the *peace* on the streets so his eyes rarely left the city's limits. To someone like him, these beastmen were nothing more bugs to swat. "Heck, I bet if their entire number were to clash with the City Watch, we would not suffer a single casualty."

"Are you forgetting something, Tvor? The Owl Knights had the sacred beasts at their side, and they were still going to lose if not for His divine intervention," the Emerald remarked, watching at the Onyx with disapproval.

"Yes. Yes. I know. But what I'm saying is they are hardly a sizable threat, are they?" The Onyx shooting a glance back at the Emerald, "Our main force would have no problem dealing with these overgrown furballs."

The Emerald did not take the bait just as a twitch formed under her green eye. "To inform you, this is a meeting about any future risk they could pose to the whole of our kingdom and its people. We would be wrong to dismiss these beastmen so readily just because some of their number appear to be 'weak'," she said dryly before adding "to you." The Emerald was the general always careful with the details and planned things out to the Nth degree. Unlike-

(line here of the Emerald and Onyx bickering)

And there they go - as everyone else on the room sighed exasperatedly. The Prince even had his fingers on his forehead. It was never an appropriate moment for them to butt heads during one of their *strategy* meetings yet it always seemed to occur... as if Lord Divine himself ordained it. Only the Crimson ever found their banters amusing. Lover quarrels she called it.

The Azure finally interrupted them with his perfected [fake cough] maneuver while saying, "The question becomes: what measures should we take towards these beastmen? Some preemptive strikes or should we wait and see?" I doubt we have seen their full capability and we don't know if they have a large caste of magic users in their ranks. Worse case scenario is they have natural fliers that could bypass over the wards imbued within the Great Walls."

Then Alluin shifted track to, "Then there is this Draconic Kingdom to discuss. If their ruler is called the Dragon Queen, then should we expect the presence of dragons out there? I'm sure the more aggressive of their brood would find our raised island hardly a deterrent to attack us and try making our city into their den."

"What I think we should do first is finish scouting out our immediate perimeter," started the Emerald. "We need to have atleast a 100 mile grid established around our position to detect for possible hostiles. Especially now with the island being on the surface level, opening us up to a new area of vulnerability we did not have in Alfheimr."

The Emerald pointed to the current map display that showed a pretty detailed five mile radius outside their island borders. She then expanded the layout to show the more empty grid laying outside it.

"Thanks to the Bravo team, we now know a human kingdom is on our west and north," a series of blue dots flashing in the unknown areas, "with a larger region of demi-human nations to our island's left," those flashing red in the distance. "But as you can see, this is all guesswork. We still do not know where their borders even start or even what lays to the south of our current position. Or further north."

"Captain Theodas did mention something about the Draconic Kingdom having a large inland sea as one of their natural borders," interjected the Azure. "Do note, they have yet to see it themselves," he added.

It only took four seconds for the Emerald to make another addition to the layout of an acute triangle (faded) south of the distance of the flashing blue dots.

"See what I mean?" The Emerald stated but it sounded more like a complaint.

"Yes," the Azure nodded. "The Bravo team is currently being escorted to one of the human cities still standing. Surely there will be more information to be gained there. Perhaps they can try to locate maps or other detailed accounts."

"That would be most helpful, Lin-dono." The Emerald gave Alluin a short bow before adding, "And perhaps the riders could inquire to other kingdoms the locals know of, human or otherwise, and the general direction they lay. Even if it was just hearsay, that too would be most helpful."

"It will be relayed, Onora-san," the Azure said with an incline of his head.

"But back to our immediate concern," the Emerald began while facing the Prince in particular. "I request permission to send out the Ranger Lords under my command with a wing of five Owl Knights as two scouting parties to start establishing our grid. And each party will have my team of Spellweavers aiding them with their scrying magic, just in case. I believe this will a most effective way to map out our current surroundings and deal with any beastmen they might possibly encounter, given how the Bravo team performed."

The Emerald's eye glanced to the Onyx to see if he would move to argue but Tvorryos only raised his eyebrow in protest before she continued, "This might seem a little 'excessive' but we cannot be certain to any other dangers that might be out there. Plus my unit does not constitute in our main defense thus this plan wouldn't risk the City should something go horribly wrong."

"But yours is no the less effective, Onora," the Onyx said with the faint curve a smile which the Emerald returned.

The Prince took one brief glance at each other general with none raising a complaint before stating, "Granted, Onora-san. I too think this is a sound step to get our first foot in this new world. I had hoped we could remain hidden for a month or two before drawing anyone's ire but it seems that is already in the wind." Kaineng did not want a repeat of what 'almost' happened to their Bravo team.

"Thank you, my Prince." The Emerald said with a bow of her head.

"If you ask me - we should just burn half of the furballs to a crisp and go with it from there. *That* would serve well enough an example not to mess with us, and to everyone else too," the Crimson said. Her arms and legs were crossed and boredom on this topic was clearly starting to seep into her expression.

"But you weren't asked, Fyra-chan," the Prince replied in jest. "The best strategies often do not involve mayhem, as we've told you many a time before."

"-keh." The Crimson's eyes were shut as she snorted in return.

Everyone else in the room sighed again.

"However," the Prince spoke more to the group at large. "I get the feeling these beast-men aren't going to show us their belly. They strike me as the type who will resist to the 'bitter end'. So you may end up getting your desire after all, Crimson," he finished with his eye fixed on his youngest general.

The only response to Fyra's tense expression was the upward curve of her lip.

"But this brings us to our second foot, and that is this Dragon Kingdom and-" and Prince Kaineng continued their meeting to the next topic at hand.

*** a couple days later ***

"I never did ask," Ellwyn started moments after the Owl Knights were safely grounded, "Did you report... it all, taichan?" The elf ranger was looking at Theodas with a pointed expression. It was not lost on the young captain who rolled his eyes in response. The caravan they were with made sight of the human city of Arxtu some ten minutes ago and it was only now that the elf riders could visibly relax that their escort task was done. Thankfully they did not encounter another beastmen warband but that need to remain on high alert kept their nerves up over the past two days of travel. As such the griffons were now landed and walking alongside their host company.

"Yeah, I think the boss got it all." Theodas saying his response with a guilty smile.

Ellwyn smirked, "Ole Blue give you a wringer?"

"No..." Theodas jittered thinking how quiet the Azure was when he made that last Message, "but I do think I am in for one when we get back."

"Well, better you than me." The ranger half-nodded as he said that. Ellwyn then began to arc his back while atop his snowy griffon, trying to work out the kinks mounted on a long day of travel.

"Thanks, jackass." Theodas could only groan to his friend's teasing. His words were still acute enough to be heard which drew a laugh out of Ellwyn and even Silvarr chuckled. However their three owl griffons made a low screeching noise in protest as it was disturbing this well deserving moment of peace as they too seemed content with their journey nearing its end. Although their health and mana pools were fully recovered, the stress of the previous battle on their bodies only just now started to fade. Ellwyn always called it the body going through an 'adrenaline crash'.

Theodas too copied his fellows and leaned his back upon his owl griffon and even stretched out his legs. Then something hard nudged his hand but the elf captain smiled as he turned to pet Bucky on his beak. The griffon's head was almost a full 180 and his eyes were looking at him with concern.

"It's okay," Theodas told his partner but he did not look all that convinced. That terrifying moment when the beastmen horde nearly killed him was still fresh in their minds. The elf then began to stroke his griffon's chin, using a Tamer command to assure Bucky it was safe. His partner had the gall to snort at him, which caused Theodas to make a noise in indignation, but then seemed to let it go as Bucky turned his head back around.

Soon after - their small banter was interrupted by the comings of another party running beside them, children who were taken to their mounts. The two kids were giggling and eyes sparkling at the sight of their strange company of elves and magic beasts. Closing his eyes, the elf captain silently thanked his Lord Divine that his team was able to help these kids avoid that terrible fate.

A few moments later, the Vice-Captain approached him on his chestnut steed, "We should be at the gates within the hour. With luck, we can get these folks shuffled through without any hassle." However Marcus looked a little trouble and Theodas could guess why. Their party had been their scouts in not just better directing the procession but lookouts as well for any possible danger.

Theodas could only think even these humans would not feel entirely secure until they reached the end of their destination. So the elf captain assured Marcus (and several knights inching into their conversation) that they made sure the coast was clear of any hostiles before their landing and added if something were to come their way, their [Sense] skills were still active and would sense any beastmen horde coming a mile away. Not to mention the owl griffons and their sharp senses.

"-so do not worry good sir. Ellywn's [Sense] skill is particularly sharp and Silvarr is a rather good magic caster, and his 4th tier wards are up so even enemies using normal means to move around undetected would be spotted by our detail." Theodas said all this offhandedly, not perceiving the look of confusion the veteran gruff sent him.

"A magic caster?" Marcus was confused, "Excuse me, but I thought you were all knights?" It was not that there could *not* be a skilled fighter who is magically proficient, but more the question of efficiency. Normal people dedicated to a single career, a knight to a chosen weapon, a magic caster to spellcraft, an archer to the bow, and so forth. Sure, there are knights like in the Roble Holy Kingdom who trained as paladins or clerics – even if their magical prowess would never match the elite sorcerers of mankind – but those people were few and far in between to the point where true proficiency could never be achieved in a single lifetime. This group of foreign 'knights' already showed themselves to be *powerful* but Marcus had accredited THAT to them being elves, or rather a team of long lived and experienced warriors. So it did not occur to this veteran knight (until now) that their strength may have been attributed to a combination of class expertise.

As the Vice-Captain was wondering how on this earth that was even possible, maybe a result of living in isolation for hundreds of years surrounded by man-eating savages, Theodas answered back, "Oh... well yes. Silvarr is gifted with 4th tier divine magics in both the Holy Light and Druidism, with a wide and varied spell list of 120 spells. It is quite a feat amongst us Owl Knights actually."

Still young Theodas did not recognize the flabbergasted expressions on the human company and continued, "Many years back, he was a reserve in our Paladin order but the Lord Divine discovered he had an affinity with one of his sacred beasts and so he was transferred to the griffon corps."

The elf captain ended his disclosure in the same firm tone, explaining away a person of such heroic capability as being a 'reserve'. Sure, the fourth tier of magic was not considered 'legendary' but did that no way entail it actually being normal to any stretch of the imagination. This little nugget of information was a proverbial landmine if true – a possible military force that could field even a few such individuals was a national level threat. It painted a both picture of hope and dread. Hope in that with their help, their kingdom might survive the beastmen onslaught. And dread, to be weak enough to fall very easily to these same elves.

In this dual scenario - Marcus preferred alive but conquered by these newcomers than enslaved and eaten by the beastmen. But none of those thoughts were reflected on his countenance and so Theodas was not privy to the Vice-Captain's internal struggle.

"Interesting..." Marcus trailed off with a nervous tick in his voice, "oh, look there. We can better see the walls of Arxtu now. It is one of our main cities, you know-" that hadn't been conquered yet. But the elves did not need to know that detail yet so it was left unsaid.

Theodas and his compatriots looked at the slowly nearing city but all held back their reactions. The elves could not help it. It was part of their training. Inside his mind, the elf captain saw it for what it was, a city with a fortified outer wall but even from this far out, he could isolate the weaknesses in its defenses. And for some parts of the wall, the construction was in a bad state of disrepair with others being patchwork far from being permanent fixtures.

So the question if this city could last a siege even against the four thousand beastmen they had fought, the elves realized this human kingdom was in a more dire strait than previously thought.

The rest of their travel was met with no setbacks beyond a guard patrol approaching their number and (of course) being visibly on edge at the sight of the sacred beasts. This was even after their own comrades tried to intercept them and forewarn them there was no danger. And as they got at the foot of the wall within a small way station, the Owl Knights were informed they had to remain outside the city for the time being as the Vice-Captain relayed - to make ready an honorable reception for their heroes. Theodas tried to dissuade him from such a task but Marcus had none of it stating not doing this much would bring shame on themselves.

The human left little room to argue so Theodas decided not to kick up a fuss so the Owl Knights and their griffons went a little ways from the paved road, under the shade of a small guard tower.

"Don't you think it be a little strange they didn't send word in advance this convoy was coming?" Ellwyn pointed out. "I mean, we've been traveling for two days now. Surely in such an amount of time, they could have prepared to receive them." It was not just the Bravo team that was left waiting outside the gates but the human caravan they were with. "Was [Message] not used," Ellywn questioned in a low voice, not knowing the knowings of why said problem existed in this new world.

Silvarr disagreed, "Remember. Not everyone is magically attuned." The ranger-paladin was rationalizing this with the intuitive reasoning he gathered thus far in their travels, "I would not be surprised if any human in this procession couldn't use even the first tier of spells. I certainly could not feel anything remotely resembling magic coming off... any of them."

Theodas nodded in agreement, "You could be right," as he began to stroke his partner's feathered hide. "Those knights seemed quite 'baffled' over our own magical ability." The three owl griffons had few moments for rest since departure and promptly threw themselves on the ground and laid out like cats, even if their stamina was no where near a red factor.

And not much later, their senses picked up two small figures approaching, the same kids from before, looking at their mounts with an expression of open wonder as the two boys tried to inch themselves closer and closer to steal 'petting time' with the sacred beasts. The Owl Knights looked at the kids, then to themselves with amusement (and understanding), but did nothing to stop them. The bravest boy among them, barely three feet away now, began to stretch his little arm towards Bucky but before he could touched the beast, the kid turned his head towards his rider looking for permission.

Taking this opportunity for some harmless fun, Theodas started with a smile and dark gusto, "Go on kid, but beware..." at this the elf's smile vanished as he pointed his finger. To this, the boy's eyes shot open in surprise as he heard, "not to lose a finger- Oof!" Theodas could not finish scaring the kid with his playful warning as Silvarr had taken a pebble off the ground and with unerring aim, flicked it to hit the side of his temple.

"Don't spook children, baka." Was all the ranger-paladin had to say, though with a smile as Ellwyn showed his amusement with a quick "Hah!" This was still enough to spook the young boy who froze in place and his partner-in-crime to shuffle a couple feet back.

"I'm only teasing, kid," Theodas's eye was still on Silvarr after his rebuke. "Come here," the elf captain then patted his partner who straighten up to look at the prospect. Bucky took a single glance as he cocked his head in a playful manner and cooed at the boy in a low hum. It was a cute gesture that widened the kid's smile as he bridged the remaining distance to start stroking the sacred beast's upper cheek.

The other boy also found his courage to hurry along and began to run his hands down Bucky's midriff, feeling the difference in textures of the owl griffon's feather coat and thin hide underneath. The first boy though was contented just petting Bucky's head as his hand was now playing under his beak. The sacred beast seemed to enjoy their youthful attentions as his head was angled up and was letting out a purring noise for it to continue.

"Really, what is the worst thing that could happen anyway?" Theodas shot at his two teammates after the kids were a minute into this fascination. "It's not as if this overgrown baby would actually do 'that', and you know it!" At that, the 'baby' in question opened one eye and squawked indignantly to his rider's jest. It was enough to briefly pause the two kids in shock but then they broke out in a delightful laughter to griffon's playful behavior.

The other two elves join in, chuckling at the sight while their two sacred beasts started making indignant noises in being left out. Ellwyn went over to flop down by his snowy steed, leaning his body against her torso while stroking the top of her feathered head. "There, there," he said in his monotone baby voice. "You are the prettiest one," the ranger finished with a wink to his captain.

And this caused Theodas to start laughing with them before a sharp cry brought everything to a halt. It was a very nervous looking woman, her face white, as she approached the two boys in due haste. "Jose. Come here." She managed to grab the littlest of them and hugged the kid tightly in her arms.

"It's okay mama." The boy tried to assure his mother but her mood and being chastised made his voice sound really weak.

"Please...," the poor woman was breathless at this point. "-please excuse us, milords. Jose didn't know what he was doing. Tom too," probably referring to the other kid whose hand was on Bucky's ear at this point. "They are children. Please." She was one of the villagers they had accompanied on the trek to this city. She was young for a mother with her dirty blonde hair tied up in a bun and clothed in a classic village-girl outfit.

Many of the villagers had become accustomed to the Owl Knights over the past days of travel. They were a common enough sight high in the air or in a crowded conversation with the knights during camp. Plus their magic steeds made the three elves rather awestruck in the humans' eyes. But this young mother understood, from snippets of the conversations that were circulated about, that the three heroes were 'knights' (a title only reserved for nobility), so she did not want to risk upsetting them with a child's pestering.

As the elf who she recognized as the captain of their party raised his hand, she flinched and shut her eyes as reflex because life experience taught her - when nobles got angry, bad things tend to happen for the peasant class. Her hold on her son was ever tighter. But predictions for some stiff punishment were an overstatement because no reprimand was going to come here. After a few seconds where nothing happened, she cautiously look up to the elf rider in front of her, acting quite odd indeed. He was flailing his hands in front of her and his handsome face had morphed into an expression of utter confusion as if it was some silent plea to be understood. Finally, the frantic sound of his voice, "I-It's nothing. Please, don't worry about it! Nothing bad happened. I won't say anything!" and continued mumbling similar lines.

The two knights at his back started chuckling again, to which the elf turned around and asked them to back him up, which caused their laughter to grow. Then the three started bickering back and forth to a conversation she could not follow, seemingly ignoring the young woman - an opportunity she took advantage of - as she quickly made to sneak away with the two kids who were complaining they had permission.

Not long after the young woman departed with the two boys, one of the the mage inspectors of city gates approached (rather warily) to inform the Bravo team they and their mounts were granted access to the city proper. However he also came with a request for them to partake in a parade where the riders would enter the main gate to be given a 'Hero's Welcome' before the refugees they saved entered behind them. The mage stated it would not be a long procession and just up to the Governor's mansion estate in the city's center. Apparently Governor Dialtaren wanted to put on a show to inspire the masses and hoped the elves would comply.

Theodas let out a small sigh but spoke on their behalf that they would be most honored for this commendation. The mage almost fainted in shock when the three owl griffons bolted upright the moment after the elf captain's acceptance. It was a movement faster than the human's eye could follow. Now shaking, the mage apologized over and over for their official welcome was still an hour's time off as he squeaked out, "I-I wass jusst sentt tto makke surre tthat woulld bbe ookay firrst." The poor guy's breath was caught in his throat.

Trying not to intimate the mage any further, Theodas merely nodded and thank him for the service but the human could hardly run from them fast enough to forward the news. Ellwyn wore a puzzled expression as if not knowing whether to laugh or not, while Silvarr seemed to understand the disparity. The sacred beasts looked a tad miffed as they flopped themselves back down on their sides with a huff. Theodas could only wonder if it was an 'age' thing thinking how the youngsters were more forthwith with them and their mounts than their adult body.

But with this new development, Theodas took the time to forward this news to the Azure via [Message] and was updated on a new set of tasks upon entering the city.

*** meanwhile ***

"My King! My King! We seen! We seen!" He was a gnoll that just came back from patrol, demanding an audience while yelling over and over his pack had encountered something very interesting. However, the Beast King was seriously considering snapping this little hyena's neck to end his insufferable prattling while wondering how this squirt got into his grand army.

But after a minute of listen, this prat had his king's full and undivided attention.

"An enormous rock, in the great wood. Has high walls made of strange stone." That was more interesting. Walls meant cities and usually human ones. The gnoll continued, "-not much else we could see. Walls too high but from distance we see more trees and castle like small mountain. And we could smell prey, much much prey!"

The Beast King thought to himself, "So they think the high ground will save them now?" In his mind, the vicious tigerman found that prospect insulting in that predators would quit the hunt if their prey was only temporarily out of reach.

"Mhh... and where did you say this place was?" the Beast King asked in his strong and commanding voice, taking another bite of the half-finished flank he had in his claws.

"Yes, yes... deep in your forest my king, Daine. Wolf wood." The gnoll was practically cackling in his high-pitched glee. "My King! Smell of prey was, was, on a whole 'nother level. We couldn't stop salivating..." the scout was drooling just recalling his tale. "-tried to climb up rock but, but rock too hard. The first spoils go to you my King, I know, I know," the gnoll quickly added as his weak self felt a wave of hostility in the room. "But but smell, smell, intoxicating. I obey, but please. Please allow this one a first serving, even if smallest bite. Bite yes, of those whose scent was just, just... Sublime!"

The Beast King clenched his jaws with more force than necessary. First from the twit's savory ambition then to this mystery rock in The Great Forest of Daine. The cattle somehow settled east into his territory? THAT could not be left alone as it will tarnish his reputation and some would start to question his ability to lead the new order. Second, the tigerman never knew of such a place in that great woodland. The only beastmen civilization he heard of in those parts was a small tribe of skinwalkers and they were an odd feral race. And none of their number was in his great horde to question about.

Then the only other living creatures of note in Daine were the dire wolves. And again - they could not have made this castle on the big rock. The beastmen would have long known of this. So the Beast King questioned to himself if this gnoll was perhaps lying but one glance at the slavering fool scattered that notion. He was too much an idiot to try and pull something like that off and for what reason.

But the more he thought about it, the Beast King started to like this idea of a great castle on high ground. It would be a perfect spot for the capital city for his empire. He threw away his now almost-finished steak, which the pipsqueak below expertly snatched from the air to start munching on. The tigerman then got off his makeshift throne of human bones and made his way out of the stone keep's interior. He was joined by his right hand, a fellow tigerman with a scar over his right eye, and his elite guard of the strongest breed.

As soon as they were outside its stone walls, the Beast King turned and told his trusted lieutenant, "Send Ascar ahead with a small war party. Have the gnolls lead their way. I want confirmation before we commit the sieges." His pack mate nodded to the order and went off to find that cunning lynx in charge of their scout force.

Then the Beast King looked at his surroundings, a burnt human city on the edge of ruin, and spoke more to himself than his guard around him, "There is not much left in this ningen dump, anyhow." But the tigerman began to walk the whole of their encampment, shades of red and brown painting the structures of stone and wood. Even the ground was a sludge, dirt mixed with guts and bone. And as he proudly walked through it all, he spoke with his soldiers, some 40 thousand in all, barking up a promising new target to hunt and how this one may be the most delicious yet. The beastmen all chuckled darkly at the thought.

Days later as the beastmen army marched, the last bonfire burned in the sacked city of Corith. The place where mercy died long ago. This is what the world of humans will look in the future; the Beast King would make sure of it.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

****

The Lord Serra rested on his divine seat in the inner sanctum while his eyes went from perusing the various guild management tabs to glancing at his two companion NPCs then back to the management tabs again.

It had been good fortune that his magnum opus – at least the great majority of them – did not need constant supervision as the Celestial City was written with very detailed descriptions of how its society ran as a whole. Of course, that had been based on several accountings from *real world* managerial books and various how-to guides. As things were, the city itself was mostly independent and the Prince with his advisors handled the day to day affairs, with none ever beckoning Serra to take to task. The player did feel a little guilty seeing Kaineng in his regal office surrounded by a gaggle of assistants holding some form or another. It made Serra think how any sane person could ever handle such a heavy responsibility.

And somewhere else in this new world, a mighty skeletal being felt a chill run down his spine for the briefest of moments.

But the exception to THIS did exist and it was the two beings written to be the left and right hands of the Lord Divine. If Serra had to deal with this same level of attentive behavior he got from Falke and Kharon from every other NPC, then he would develop severe anxiety issues in trying to cope with it all. It alone was enough to break his train of thoughts.

Serra turned the camera away from Kaineng to spy on other parts of the city, each time being more and more fascinating by how well his written descriptions translated in this *reality*. Even characters that did not have a digital counterpart and whom the player had only referenced in stories were there, living as if they had always done so. Entire noble houses that had only a few key characters mapped out in his stories were now full functioning family lines numbering by the dozen. And it was not just those moon elves. Little fairies and wisps tended the trees, small crystalline spiders spun their shining webs, and even various species of mandrake bloomed on the island's green metropolis.

The biggest question that nagged his thoughts: does the island have a set population value like in the game or will it be allowed to grow naturally in this new world setting. There was no real way to test this theory because the option to create an NPC or even hire out another mercenary mob was *locked* in the guild management tab. His guild base and city resources were already maxed out in terms of mob count so perhaps that was the reason. Maybe a current mercenary summon has to perish before another can take its place but testing that was unthinkable.

Serra also spent alot of the past four days studying the text within the city registry, wondering how the heck a few hundred thousand words catalogued in a digital database could make things exist. Obviously, magic but beyond that there was no definitive marker to even begin explaining it. And beyond this whole 'isekai' thing the *why*. Why did any of this occur? That was the most troubling aspect because it was all still an enigma. Normally in the traditional isekai genre - the protagonists are summoned with some specificity. Atleast the few good ones. And here, an entire in-game city from a digital world no less was made real, at random? Perhaps the summoner is biding his time but that brings up the question of *why*. Why would someone go through all this trouble then poof away when your target is summoned? None of it made any sense.

Then the above came with another question: did the Lord Serra's words still possess power in this world? To be able to convert text into living breathing form. The player was wary of testing this theory out since the concept of bringing a being to life with *words* felt too surreal. It would be like playing God, a path surely leading to ruin.

"Serra-sama. What are you going to do about the situation?" Falke's question interrupted her lord's most recent thoughts.

"Hmm? What do you mean," the seraph asked back, turning his head towards the valkyrie with a smile.

"Your city, my Lord. And your followers. They are on the middle of enemy territory, are they not? In peril of possible annihilation by these disgusting beastmen." Falke was clearly overestimating what these brutes were capable of.

Serra waved his hand to dismiss the topic. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. These beast-men aren't all that strong. They likely could not even injure me if were to stand before them and do nothing. And the Prince and the Generals seem to be dealing with the situation, so there is little need for me to meddle. For if I were to intervene in every problem, then they will not grow and learn from those experiences. And if I were to disappear, then they would be left helpless in this new world."

"I knew it! Our Lord is thinking of abandoning us," Falke cried, her voice all wobbly.

"NO, Falke, I did not. I do not," the player added to steer his two NPCs away from an emotional breakdown that he could feel coming his way. "I was speaking in the hypothetical. I never would tire of you, my friends, nor my creation but no one is infallible and there might be a time in the future we find an enemy that is powerful enough to... you know, kill me." If the logic of MMOs applied to this world, then the possibility of running into one such ex-player or something similar can be sooner rather than later. Death may only be a temporary concept in this setting, or a more permanent one. That still remains to be seen but one that is on the player's list to be tested.

Falke's eyes widened at her Lord's blunt statement, before moving her head downwards to obscure her face. Serra fake coughed, wanting to change the heart of this conversation. "Well, if any encounter proves to be more a threat than expected, then we will face it together, just like in the past. And should it ever come to that - I will be in your care."

At these words, the valkyrie seemed to cheer up, thinking on accompanying her Lord into the battlefield like the many times before. Even the Overlord was moved, both lost in past thoughts and reminiscing old battles fought against the many different enemies during their journeys in the Nine Worlds. Still, it had been a long while since those days and the last adversary the three had faced and conquered was one of the Primordial Kings. This was all before the seraph had become the Lord Divine of the Lost Kingdom and unleashed the *sacred* treasure to recreate their island kingdom. The specifics in those memories might have been 'fuzzy' but the feelings of pride, fellowship, and fulfillment were as strong today as the first.

The beastmen here could never measure up to such monumental achievements, even millions of them, but they may prove to kindle the flame of a new era. And that was hope enough for the seraph's companions. The thought of those brutes setting their feet on their Lord's beautiful creation and their paws on his chosen people, awoke a natural instinct and spurred the two NPCs to see it all safe and secure.

With that - Lord Serra had turned his attention away from his hypothetical and back onto the beastmen front. Dismissing his city camera view, the player brought the [Mirror of Remote Viewing] to the fore and casted a [Greater Scrying] spell through it. Unlike before, his target area was not the young captain of the Bravo team but the location where his intervention was. The reflection in the mirror zoomed sideways until a bird's eye view of the walled village was fixed on its surface. Again through channeling the Mirror's spellcraft, Serra panned the shot to see that battle's aftermath to confirm the corpses were still there as they were the two days prior. This was done as an examination to finally check de-spawning off his list but found there were no corpses littering the area. He panned a couple more areas just to be sure.

Taken aback, Serra hummed to calm his rising nerves while speculating the possibilities. It was doubtful a de-spawning occurred since the ground still looked dirtied from their blood and the last remnants of gold ash could be seen. So someone (or something) had to remove those corpses, right? The humans would not double back here to do so and the player got word the Bravo team had made it safely to the city of Arxtu. And it was doubtful that murder of crows dining on that dead feast could pick it this clean in such a short amount of time.

So beastmen right? Unless they spawned into undead but a quick [Detect Magic] in the village's radius picked up no negative energies in the area. Zooming out the targeted area to its max range value, the player tried to pick out anything out of the ordinary and found it. What drew his eye was many crows circling a small clearing half a mile away, and the faint trails of smoke. Zooming that in, Serra saw a well dug out fire pit stacked with the remainder of burnt beastmen corpses. Most of the fires had died out and only small embers could be seen in this vantage.

However no living beastmen were around. One would have to assume they were the culprits here because who else would go through all this trouble. Following this train of thought, Serra calculated that his sources of information – as limited as they were – were from the apparent victim's perspective. Thing was, the player knew next to nothing about these demi-humans beyond their appetite for human flesh and their war on the Draconic Kingdom. No intel on hierarchy, tactics, or customs and behind such a large horde there should be a figure leading them, because if not then such a force numbering a hundred thousand would descend to infighting rather quickly.

It did not take long for the player to realize that whoever dug this pit still had to be in the area as this was not here on his check-up yesterday. But how to gather more intelligence? The [Mirror of Remote Viewing] was a useful tool and it was just that, a tool to be used in tandem with other divination skills. The problem was his list of scrying magics had to be casted with near specificity, meaning he could not widely target 'beastmen patrol' and get the target he desired, if at all. The tiered magic system had built-in restrictions to limit broad scope usage.

Although the seraph did try just that, if only to rule it out. The view he got in the Mirror was as expected, a shot of trees in a forest and made sweeping motions to quickly pan its view to find the desired target. Within seconds he found the beastmen patrol, gnolls by the look of them, but this did not mean they were the same group whom were at the village. However, this patrol was in a forest and quickly zooming back out to a bird's eye view, the player could see the shape of a very large plateau in the distance.

"Falke, look at this..." Serra beckoned his valkyrie to see what the [Mirror of Remote Viewing] had picked up.

The silver beauty frowned slightly, "Idiot savages," but made no other motion or comment. With his empathic sense, the player could sense a bloodlust rising in his NPC. Even the Overlord was perturbed by the images shown.

"Well, you were right to ask for an action against these idiot savages." Serra was almost impressed by these beastmen. It looked like this patrol was scouting their island abode. That means within the week of their *summoning* here, these low-levels managed to track their location. If he were to be honest, the player did not expect such aptness from these cretins.

Continuing, "We should look into their political structure, for if they were to advance against us, it would be more efficient to cut off their heads to let the body flounder. Less possible casualties that way, too." The seraph wanted to avoid an outright war, especially with the too many unknown variables.

"But what if they still continue an offensive," Kharon asked in his rich baritone, joining in the strategizing.

"And what if they don't have any leaders at all," Falke questioned after.

"Well, that would just prove that they are not even sentient. No different than a simple beast and putting them down is no different than killing a rabid animal." His words were so cold that even Serra himself was rather surprised by them. The player had thought of these beastmen as similar to those old cannibalistic tribes back on Earth, but the lack of pity at his thought of eradicating them as pests... was he trying to demonize them to make it easier to kill? Serra would not spare them much sympathy anyways after seeing their live action human slaughterhouse.

"But this I doubt. They are displaying a... degree of intelligence, despite their unknowing how out-leveled they are." Serra had to add this to dissuade his companions (and himself) of their outright extinction. But then the picture of the beastmen's cruelty imposed on own his people gave him a inward moment of scalding rage. This new body of his seemed to have its own distinctive psychological differences from his human self. Coupled with his newfound empathic sense and it was becoming more and more notorious as time went on, and it was only the fifth day.

Before, Serra could look at such things with a morbid curiosity and never gave much thought to the victims. Now, it was like a faint voice was whispering in the player's head to do 'something' but what that something was he could not yet recognize. Perhaps it was tied into his in-game Karma, which Serra's was at positive 500 value. That was the max a player could achieve but Serra only did so since many of his spells gained added bonuses from having high Karma values.

But was that the driving force behind this new change? The player's sense of self did not feel all that different but then he was ever the odd person. Almost everything 'real' felt cold and distant with Serra being more 'alive' within his works of fiction. So did that translate into this new reality? Or was it just the personal attachment he felt to the Celestial City as their creator.

There were still so many things to discover, not just about this world setting but himself. Each question Serra got close to answering always brought up a new avenue going forward. Perhaps this journey will be more of discovering who he truly is, the starting point of a good epic tale.

Again - his thoughts were interrupted with Kharon pointing out the encampment now coming into view. It was a small forest clearing, much of it broken up by the beastmen horde making camp. They were not a large force, less than a hundred, but together they were a motley crew of various demi-humans. Most were catfolk of various skin, some were large mutant-like hogs, and a couple were species the Lord Serra had never seen in the whole of YGGDRASIL. Two had armadillo features but the most eye-catching were those with the heads of stags and an elongated humanoid torso. Even their hands and feet, though hairy, had five digits. These beastmen all bore some shape of crude armor and weaponry that from even the Mirror's panned view, were non-magical (trash).

But the leader of this beastmen company looked to be a catfolk of lynx heritage. That is who the gnolls were speaking to now making hand gestures in the distance. It was not lost - their hands clearly pointed to his island mass in the distance.

Irked even more, Serra took his time to detail out every inch of this location and its inhabitants, looking for any irregularity or cause for concern. This little horde even brought human captives along, and it did not take much guesswork to know why. But he was not intervening here on their behalf. His mind was already settled into making these beastmen his unwitting participants to prove or disprove a couple more theories.

This time the Lord Serra would enter the fray with his right and left hands in tow and started to make ready a plan of action.

*** meanwhile ***

The Dragon Queen, Draudillon Oriculus, massaged her brow in a futile attempt to make her headache recede. It had never helped before and it would not help now, but she did it more out of habit with the faint hope the taxis would tune it down some.

She had just finished today's session with her kingdom's knights and adventurers, having to put on a cute showing to better hold their favor. Cerabrate, the leader of Crystal Tear, added to this migraine. As much as Draudillon despised that man's 'preferences', the services his adamantite team delivered was indisputable, so if she had to swallow her pride for a while longer so her people can continue living, then the Dragon Queen would do so in a heartbeat.

Then she read the latest combat report and felt her heart crawl up her throat. It said that the eastern front was no more and the new borderline was the city of Arxtu. Most of her forces caught in the open field were either slain or captured. Luckily, their pre-strategy to abandon that countryside had been the right decision and the evacuation of the nearby towns and villages had been a success, save for two unfortunate groups.

The report also read the mercenaries sent by the Slane Theocracy were able to diminish some of the attacking hordes but fell back before being overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. This angered the queen even more, causing her little headache to flare. There was no doubt those from the Theocracy were talented individuals on the field of battle but their insistence in fighting on their own 'terms' has crippled any effort to muster an effective counterattack.

Had those units been divided amongst her own army, while it was still relatively whole, the Draconic Kingdom may have been able to turn the tide. But it seemed those bastards never engaged the beastmen unless they were absolutely sure of a successful outcome. Once Draudillon made it a point to send word to their superiors of their unwillingness to pool their talents with those in her kingdom only to be told it would be to no avail, for they were acting well within their orders from the Supreme Council. The fury she felt of such ignoble treatment by those sworn and literally paid to defend her lands was still beyond polite expression.

Then there was a different parchment tacked on to the report as if hastily added. Reading its contents made her to blink repeatedly, forcing her to read it again and again. It was a message from Arxtu's Governor and former Lord General, Dialtaren Arcarius, saying that some 'interesting' foreigners had come with a group of civilian refugees. Oddly it was not written with any code in mind but with everything spelled out to avoid confusion. Apparently a group of three elves with magic beasts fought off the entire beastman war party that had been harassing their supply lines and while doing so, saved a refugee caravan and their knight escorts. As baffling and unbelievable that statement was, the parchment also had the signature of her own Vice-Captain as proof of its veracity.

And it did not stop there. Then apparently some Lord Divine character appeared in what only can be described as some religious intervention. The back of the parchment had even more details about these three 'Owl Knights' in general about how they had come on a reconnaissance mission looking for other signs of civilization. It sounded almost laughable in claiming they hailed from an 'island' nation deep in the beastmen territory within the Great Forest of Daine. The Governor also wrote that the three elves were not here in an official capacity as diplomats but one would make their way to Arxtu whenever it was acceptable to try and establish international relations between the two sides. The Governor ended by stating the obvious in the *how* in these elves managing to communicate with their superiors supposedly so far away was still a mystery?

The Dragon Queen quickly dismissed [Message] as such a method since it was highly unreliable and conversations through that spell could be easily spied upon. Perhaps it was lost elvish magic like wind-talking.

But if what this report was written to be true, then these three elves were worth more than a thousand beastmen soldiers. Getting into some sort of military pact with them was worth far more than her own weight in gold coins, even if measured in stones with her adult form. Such an alliance, from both sides, might be able to create a fracture in the beastmen hordes and that rift might open large enough to deal a fatal wound. Plus an amiable nation to their east would serve as an effective buffer zone against the non-human nations further east. This might even give the Draconic Kingdom time to fill their mostly emptied out coffers.

And who knows - if everything goes THAT well, her kingdom may not need to pay tribute to the Theocracy anymore, finally ridding themselves of their zealotry. And in a perfect world, Draudillon would not have to degrade herself anymore to gain favors from a perverted (if powerful) lolicons.

But the Dragon Queen was far from this delusion in hoping for the best. She was more experienced than that. She just hoped that even with the best of good fortune, these newcomers could reduce the weight of those burdens, if only for her people's sake.

She looked at the map of her kingdom, noting the outline of where Arxtu was located. It would take almost three days of travel reach the city at a reasonable pace. Two if she traveled with a light escort and one carriage. It was risky to be sure but with the apparent decimation of the beastmen's advance forces, the likelihood of open assault on the road had been significantly reduced. And a skilled courier would not reach any earlier to make it worth the venture.

Hugging those parchments to her chest, the Dragon Queen prayed something good comes off this.

*** meanwhile ***

"What?!" A figure dressed in priestly attire shouted his surprise in a loud voice unlike his normally calm and rational self. He was a man somewhere in his mid-40s with short brown hair and keen eyes, the youngest in the conclave of the Theocracy. Raymond Zarg Lauransan, the Cardinal of Earth and commander of the Six Scriptures. He just received news from his agents in the Draconic Kingdom, and he expected some good news on that front, but *what* was communicated came right out of the blue and left him completely gobsmacked.

The parchment he was reading came from a special set enchanted to communicate over long distances. It was known as the [Journeyman Scroll] and it was tricky to craft as it required a 4th tier arcane magic caster with an artisan class. The magic of it is was based upon a relic left by their Six Great Gods but the book itself proved impossible to duplicate, however one of their mage artisans some 80 years ago was able to crack its code in a passable knockoff. These scrolls were made in pairs and allowed one to write on one surface and appear on the other. It also required the use of a special [Blood Ink] concoction that would disappear minutes after it was written, thus it was not easily usable if stolen while making the parchment itself a reusable item.

In an age where the use of [Message] was almost taboo, the creation of this item would be considered a hallmark invention, especially since the magic in these scrolls bypass anti-divination measures. But the Theocracy kept its craft a secret since it was based off their Gods' heirlooms. Plus the risk of its knowledge falling outside human hands was too great.

Raymond continued to read the written lines over and over, putting it to memory while also making sure he was not hallucinating. Finally the last line of the report disappeared leaving the scroll as blank as the inside of the Cardinal's mind. The backbone of the Draconic Kingdom had finally been broken by those beasts, as predicted, and the enemy did not take long to start ravaging the countryside on their western front. That was fine, as it was expected. The Cardinals had decided their best course was wait out the beastmen offensive until they started their siege upon the Dragon Queen's royal capital. The goal was to weaken the beastman front through guerilla tactics as a way to soften them up for the finale - a team of specialists would perform the Dominion ritual summon to wipe them all out in one fell swoop. The loss of the Draconic Kingdom's human life was regrettable to be sure but a necessary sacrifice to prevent the demi-human advancement further west.

But none of that is what he was concerned with now. Apparently, three elves had come to the proverbial rescue of a distant farming town of theirs being set upon by a beastmen horde numbering in the thousands. And won! That meant these three elves were strong enough to be the equivalent of the Sunlight Scripture (Gods rest their souls) or (Gods forbid) the Black Scripture who has already suffered career losses. This forebode only one thing, they were dealing with elven godkin. From what his agents could gather, the elves came from a 'raised' kingdom somewhere within the Great Forest of Daine, rode some rare breed of griffin, and somehow held no knowledge of this western region on the great continent.

Coupled with the rise of the Sorcerer Kingdom, this only added to the nightmare the Theocracy was facing. In but a year, they have completely turned the West on its head. E-Rantel is virtually lost, forever. Re-Estize is crippled and on the brink of a civil war. Baharuth is now the undead ruler's lap dog. The Holy Kingdom is in total disarray and now caught in a war between this Sorcerer King and another powerful entity known the Demon Emperor. Their own war with the Elf Country has stalled due to outside circumstances, delaying it another couple months. Still no word from the Dragon Councillors. And now to the east, a new kingdom of elves has risen?

The Draconic Kingdom itself was a convenient meatshield against the demi-human nations that lie to humanity's east. They were originally a powerful nation when first established by the Brightness Dragon Lord, his visage inspiring the more stupid of humankind to rally under him. But it only took two decades for their society to deteriorate into a bickering feudal state on the brink of extinction, which fortunately and unfortunately meant the Theocracy of old was able to intervene so their country did not fall automatically and leave their eastern border more open to possible invasion. Plus the tributes collected from the Draconic Kingdom for those services kept any hawkish nature of theirs in check, while their lands itself served as a good field experience in training their soldiers against inhuman foes for the better part of a hundred years. So in those ways, it was a win for the Slane Theocracy to maintain the status quo.

But now these new elves appeared and were perhaps powerful enough to get rid of the beastmen outright, and in such case, tax incomes would disappear as well as an allied state bordering their east. That itself would be an acceptable loss in the short term, but what if these elves were to start advancing westward. And how would they react to the Elf Country the Theocracy was at war with. Will they be neutral or will they try to ally with the Elf King? Raymond could easily see Draudillon letting them march right through her territory without kicking up a fuss, not that her beaten nation could do much to oppose them anyways. And if the elves did decide to conquer the Draconic Kingdom for whatever reason, there would not be much the Theocracy could do to stop them considering how stretched their military power was now.

A hand tightly grasped his shoulder to snap him out of his silent contemplation. Raymond quickly turned his back, surprised any was able to take him unawares in his private study. The infiltrator in question was a shriveled old man with dusky brown skin - Ginedine Delan Guelfi, the Cardinal of Water.

"What happened?" the older man stated in his a quiet voice while scrutinizing his fellow Cardinal's face. "Your voice echoed throughout the chamber halls. I'm sure it spooked half the stationed guard." Ginedine then turned his eyes to the blank parchment on the table, seemed to think for a second, and looked at his colleague again. "Word from the east?"

Raymond proceeded to tell Ginedine the summary version of what he had read. At first the only shock visible was the old man's eyes going wide but before long the Cardinal's face morphed into one of frozen panic as he heard its contents. As Raymond finished the report, his gaze was down, face tight, and clearly lost in his own thoughts on the matter.

He held that for nearly minute before Giendine looked back up to say, "This could be a big problem." A comical understatement in Raymond's view, but there was nothing funny about it.

"Possible godkin, further east?" the old Cardinal pondered as he now rubbed his jaw. "Or is this some sort of connection to the most recent *advent*?" He was bouncing ideas at this point, to which Raymond tilted his head to consider that possibility. It was one that terrified him even more.

"I don't know. But by the locals' recount and our own agents' reconnaissance, these elves came from some sort of forest city from the east, not west. So it would be highly unlikely they are affiliated with this Sorcerer Kingdom, also considering his fledgling state is one of the undead." Raymond then sighed, "But I guess we cannot rule the possibility out, at least not yet." He then got up from his elegant seat and stood on silence with his colleague as if they were inwardly debating their next move.

"You don't think... this is like those the legends of the Eight Greed Kings, do you?" the older Cardinal asked. Their histories stated that period of time was one where their budding kingdom (nay the world) was caught completely by surprise. The last of their Six Gods was slain and the eight superpowers ran roughshod over everything on the continent.

Even the mighty Dragon Lords were brought to a near extinction. It was considered a 'miracle' that they, the Theocracy, had survived at all. If this new *advent* was anything like that then... it was a potential global level catastrophe.

"I don't know, Giendine. I don't know." Raymond tried to steel his resolve. He was the head of the Six Scriptures, the greatest fighting force humanity had to offer. He could not lose his way now, "But first we need to call a full gathering of the Supreme Council. Without delay."

*** not long after ***

It was a cacophony of sounds as the armored knight in silver and her black cloaked companion strolled through their camp. Many a beastmen were howling in laughter, while others were snarling or grunting in intimidation and anticipation, for what was about to come to these stupid intruders. But the two seemed to be looking for something in particular as they kept on walking without a seeming care of their dire situation. As more howls and jeers sounded out, more of the the beastmen within the encampment made their way towards their growing procession.

Many of the beastmen were understandably confused by this sight as they hastily made their way here, weapons in hand as if expecting an ambush, only to join in the chorus as they realized it was but two. Cheers of "meat!" echoed through the clearing but none dared make a move (yet) as their captain had not given the order. It was one of the few rules their grand army had. And still the cattle continued to walk, almost if they were being guided by an invisible hand.

Eventually the two did halt their trek, right in front of Ascar, the leader of their scouting division who was baring them a twisted smile. The lynx catfolk was a good head taller than this silver armored female of inferior breed.

"nNyah... What's the occasion here? Did someone order takeout?" Everyone roared to Ascar's joke while chanting of "meat, meat, meat!" shouted all around them. Normally, those words alone would make the human soldiers run in despair – which made chasing them all the more entertaining – but these did not flinch. Even their fake attempts to accost the duo did not break their stoicism.

"nNmm.... Sturdy, these ones." The lynx-man said in his high pitched voice. He was smiling no more but his eyes were aglow, studying their unmoving forms. A moment after - Ascar snapped, his mouth baring all his fangs in what almost looked like a manic grin.

"Bite me, prey... because I certainly will bite you." The beastman's face was still half-mad. The lynx-man loved to play with his food before killing them and that was the reason why he still did not give the order to pounce. But still, it had no bearing on this woman. Another snap. And again but she remained unchanged with their captain then settling into a low threatening growl rumbling in his throat. The beastmen could sense the shift in Ascar's mood, and their permission to sink their fang and claw into them would soon be granted.

"Too crass." The armored figure stated this in a dull voice that signaled her disinterest of his threat. In fact her eyes were not even upon their captain but scanning those who had formed a neat circle around them, pinning down any avenue of escape. The cloaked one did not appear to move at all, his posture entirely rigid as though he was already dead.

So it was only this 'knight' the beastmen had to worry about and her only weapon was a shining spear made of some sparkly metal, soon to be relieved of by their greater number. Many were already thinking of presenting this 'trophy' to their king as a worthy offering.

However this visual of their growing urges seemed to not affect the puny woman as she continued talking without a hint of fear, "I will only say this once. You and your... beast-kind are not welcome here. But our Lord's mercy has spared you from an immediate death should you surrender now." This was said without any inflexion, truly not caring whether these creatures did or did not as told. "So, do be smart and heed His most divine command."

These beast-kind seemed to find the silver knight's warning a hilarious practical joke, as they began to laugh and snicker uncontrollably at this so-called "divine command". Did they not see how outnumbered they are?

"AHHhaha, Nnyhh, that was a good laugh," the lynx-man managed to wheeze out in his shrill voice. "What's better than a full belly and a good laugh, right boys?" The beastmen cheered at Ascar's sentiment, "but alas... I grow tired of you. I suppose you came from that big rock, right?" The silver merely nodded once to their leader's indication.

"Well know this before we start to ration out your parts. Our King himself is coming here to take possession of that *rock* and we - his mighty army - will feast on all those there! But it seems we here will have the first pleasure to partake in your people's flesh," the lynx-man's tongue was licking the upper row of his teeth.

"I will cherrissh the tasstte," and with that Ascar motioned for those present to subdue the two idiots, thus condemning himself to a more gruesome fate.

It happened when the first few of the beastmen horde got within a foot of the two intruders. Any attempt to muscle their way in was blocked by some sort of cocoon of pale blue light pulsing around them. Then many of the would-be attackers were ricocheted backwards into their own defensive line which buckled under the weight. As many of the beastmen struggled upright, many started to hiss "magic", their faces troubled as they saw the two foes just standing there deflecting blow after blow. Whether by iron or steel, tooth or claw, everything was equally repelled.

Ascar strangely kept his wits about him and started shouting out orders for the few shaman in their group to start breaching this defense.

The Lord Serra was already at his limit with this lynx-man fellow, his high-pitched voice grated his ears even in its 'serious' tone. If it was not for the fact he seemed to be the leader of this advance party, then this beastman would be the first to die. But he was just too valuable to kill off if his suspicions proved too.

["Kharon, use it now."] The player was cloaked in a simple [Greater Invisibility] spell which was not detected by this opposing force. Only his companions were aware of his presence and could hear the sound of his voice through [Message].

As three beastmen shamans began to chant in some weird primal fashion, the Overlord Wiseman unveiled one of his skeletal hands from beneath his black robes. The sight was enough to cause an uproar among the crowd, feral cries rang out as the enemy encirclement stumbled backwards and into each other in their haste. For those few who saw this in the backlines, it was enough to root them on the spot, fear overcoming their battle nerves, and their formation further collapsed.

The lynx-man was now shouting orders to fall back and regroup into a proper battle line, but it was far too late for that. For in Kharon's hand was a spell-sealing crystal.

Serra had quite the hoard of these particular items. They were very valuable 1-use items that could hold any in-game spell but the super-tier of magics. Even item creation spells were not within its limitation. Now it did come with several drawbacks such as them not having non-metamagic capability, but those drawbacks would not affect this use of it.

Kharon's bony hand shattered the item, it dissolving into hundreds of tiny blue motes as the beastmen heard the rich tone of his voice for the first time, "[Creation: Steelcage Deathmatch]!"

The ground quaked within the encampment causing many again to lose their balance. Then from the earth sprung spiked darksteel bars that snaked across its hundred yard radius, twisting and turning to form a dome shaped cage that shaded its arena floor. The sounds of these bars snapping together was like a steel door being slammed shut, a sound that echoed all around them. No way in and no way out, save for defeating its caster.

This was an obscure tier-10 spell that could not be learned through normal means. To unlock it, a player needed to run a rare artificer class and obtain a rarer boss drop to then learn its spellcraft. And one would normally need a full set of reagents to even cast this spell with its cast time based the user's spellcrafting ability. In other words - it was a non-optimal spell unless saved through the use of a spell-sealing crystal.

A sealed [Creation: Steelcage Deathmatch] crystal was a popular item for duels and player-killing because it created an isolated 100 yard battlefield around its caster. The cage had a huge hit point value, its own damage shield, and blocked teleportation magic and skills; thus the trapped victims only feasible out was to defeat its summoner because of its 2-hour duration. It even prevented forced logouts to try and time it out. Of course, there were a few exceptions to this 'rule' but none as it pertained to these now confined beastmen.

Lord Serra had over a dozen such spell-sealing crystals containing this spell and he always held one on his person in the case of a player-killing event. Each went for several million gold coins, a small fortune for a one time consumable, but its effect was well worth it. And it might have been a little overkill here but the seraph did not want to take any chances. Plus he was curious to see if the crystal and its sealed spell would even work, another item checked off his list.

If the beastmen were not spooked enough now, then watching this twisted steel dome encircle their entire encampment shook them to their core. The silver made no other move but stand in the exact same spot which blocked any attempt to assault the duo while her companion revealed himself to be one of the undead who blocked any escape. It did not take long for them all to realize - the two before them was no 'prey' but predators on the hunt.

Ascar wailed more orders as some of the stag-men stragglers in the back looked to run in the distance just as the three shamans finished their chant in preparation of some form of unison cast. Interested to see the result here - Serra gestured to Falke to stand down, through his empathy feeling her wanting to intercept the coming spell. The player was curious to see this combo attack.

As the beastmen shamans raised their totem-like weapons (voodoo sticks), an eerie green light shone as they casted, "[Dispelling Wind]!" It was a tier-3 magic that could dispel most magics under a tier-4 power. It would have no effect on the skill the valkyrie was channeling now, [Aura of Protection], which was considered in the 6th tier. And this was not factoring in the boosts her auras obtained through Falke's class set.

Serra sighed, ["That was it. A single spell,"] he complained to his companion NPCs in their invisible conversation. In YGGDRASIL, there was a special spell combo feature (rarest as it was) where two casts could create a third all its own. It was known as the *Unison* effect but it was almost non-existent in the player base because builds needed to run special feats to access it and the timing itself was tricky to pull off. In the game world, players would almost never see such tactics used save for 'Gemini' boss encounters. The seraph had hoped to see it here, or a variation of it in this new world setting, but instead-

["Perhaps, neither shaman could use it on their own... and their 'chanting' was some form of channeling skill to elevate their magic power?"] Kharon with the astute observation.

["-for a 3rd tier spell,"] interjected Falke in a mocking tone as what felt like a warm breeze whistled around her. The beastmen trembled in mute horror seeing this high grade of magic of their order have absolutely no effect on the silver knight's bearing. Again, the lynx-man with the annoying voice rang loud as he began to scream for the three shamans to do "something".

Serra knew his opponents here were 'lowbies' but their utter lack of ability was still surprising to see firsthand. Even in YGGDRASIL, a low level player (or even a mob) could perform multiple maneuvers, skills, or even magic. But none of that was happening here. When the three shaman began to 'chant' it sparked the memory of his old Seraphim guildmates known as the Trifecta. Each ran a Spellsinger meta-build which allowed them to 'twist' each other's spells to proc Unison effects within a chaincast called a Weave. It was one of the most spectacular magical combos ever seen in the whole of YGGDRASIL.

Now Serra knew there was no way these beastmen shaman could perform such an advanced technique but even their result fell well short of what he had expected. If their magic casters had to channel to triple-cast a tier-3 spell, then they may as well be trash tier among YGGDRASIL mobs. Almost as gray as a critter.

But the player would not yet give up on testing out more YGG mechanics here in this battle, ["They may be... disappointing as test subjects, but let us continue. Remember, that lynx-man"], pointing to that obnoxious beastman still shouting, ["is the only one to avoid killing here. We have no reason to spare the rest."]

Ascar had managed to form a battle line, four ranks deep, while two groups of beastmen splintered off as their flanks for mobility purposes. The shamans were again channel-casting some spell and a few of their braver fellows tried again to strike Falke, only for their attacks to bounce off.

However Lord Serra had reached the boiling point with this lynx-man's annoying voice and so said, ["Kharon, shut him up with a simple Sleep spell. Let's see if he can resist it."]

Kharon pointed his finger and [Silent] casted the tier-1 spell. His target fell like a sack of heavy potatoes. Those around him jumped back and the shamans' chanting abruptly stopped as their captain just collapsed. Some then tried to nudge him awake but it was to no avail.

["Guess not."] Serra stated. [Sleep] can gain some nifty bonuses when used by high level toons but the fact the charm incapacitated him without resistance was proof the lynx-man had a horrid defense value. The seraph then casted [Mage Hand] on the targeted beastman. It was a spell he could use without breaking his invisibility cloak.

The beastmen were at first stunned silent when Ascar fell mid-shout and eyes widened as he was lifted off the ground by an invisible hand, his prone form neatly hovering to be laid out between the two enemies. Then their silence grew to a deeper despair. Almost a full minute passed between the two sides before one of the trembling beastmen found his moxie.

"HAH... Cap'tin got beat, very easy." The rough voice belonged to one of the armadillo beastmen who separated himself from their crowded formation, flailing his arms in windup. Serra could feel this character was one of their few standouts being a beastmen of 20 levels.

"Me Cap'tin now, you get!" This he said with a backward glance to which there were no objections from his still shaking cohorts. "I make opening... then you attack." Then Serra watched in curious fascination as this armadillo beastman began to dance like an old sumo wrestler, legs kicking out into a stomp and hands fisting the ground as if pumping himself up for some big charge. The player swore he even heard a "dosukoi" through all the grunting. Was he going to finally see an actual attack maneuver here?

Again, the seraph had to verbally command his valkyrie to stand down as she found the performance more an annoyance and was preparing to lash out with her warspear the moment he made a move forward. Serra was glad too because a distinctive energy began to well up inside the beastman with Kharon pointing out, ["This magic is not of the Tiered variety."] Soon after, the armadillo-man was glowing as if red hot.

In a voice reverberating through his whole body, the beastman called out his attack "[Sutemi Takku]!" To the naked eye, it would have looked as if the armadillo-man vanished but to his opponents, the movement was laughably slow. The beastman ran a few feet, leaped, and looked as if he was coming down with some sort of dive bomb tackle. He was a foot from his silver target when [Aura of Protection] activated, buffering the entire attack. It looked like a speeding car hitting a concrete barrier - the full weight of his body collided with the barrier (head first) as he comically slid off it to fall face first onto the ground. But this beastmen's effort did get him an inch closer than everyone else.

However the assailant was not yet dead as his body spasmed violently. A rough moan was heard as the beastman struggled to make himself upright only to immediately stumbled backwards on his arse. Half of his dome-like head was smushed, his right eye was leaking blood, and his mouth dangled on a broken jaw.

Three voices rang out, "[Light Healing]!" The shamans casted this first tier spell to try and remedy the damages suffered. Parts of the beastman's face were restored as he once again regained his balance but staggered to and fro as if suffering from the effects of a concussion.

Then more spells rang out from the three, "[Reinforce Armor], [Lesser Strength], [Lesser Dexterity], [Lesser Protection Energy]," the combo of which stacked upon the armadillo-man's form. After this, the shamans began another of their group chants.

Kharon noted they should have done this prior to that warrior's 'charge' attack with Serra responding in jest, ["Yeah... he may have gotten an inch closer,"] getting a little chuckle out of the two. Another eerie green light soon drew their attention, the shaman had already finished this round of channeling magic as they raised their totem weapons high and said as one-

"[Mass: Aspect Wild]!"

["Not bad,"] Serra mused more to himself. This was a 3rd tier magic that can grant all 'party' members in range a buff akin to a berserker state for upwards to 5 minutes. It will grant a physical attack boost while providing a layer of protection against some status effects. But the strain of casting this spell, along with the others, seemed to be too much as the shamans doubled over and were wheezing heavy.

["Their mana count is almost depleted."] Kharon said this after using [Mana Essence] to gauge their bars.

["I guess 'this' is the extent of their power,"] Falke responded, looking upon the beastmen number gaining back some of their courage as the magic of [Aspect Wild] coursed through them. The valkyrie was alert but her voice was dejected knowing this was no where near enough to be considered a challenge. But her lord had already decided on the next course and so spoke-

["Let's finish this up while their buff is still active. Kharon, use Magic Arrow on that armadillo one... but don't boost it."] What Serra did not say aloud was he wanted to see if this armored skinned beastman had some sort of natural defense value, and what the player did not know was that his kind did, not that he would ever learn it here. The Armordillos were a rare beastkin species in this new world all born with rock hard bodies and innate magic resistances. Even their base racial class improved upon their defensive power.

However the magically created arrow from Kharon's [Silent Magic: Magic Arrow] easily penetrated the beastmen's hide, pierced his heart, and stuck out the left side of his chest. It was a critical hit and the Armordillo was dead before his corpse fell on its back. The resolve to fight the beastmen received from their shamans' [Mass: Aspect Wild] was already broken.

As inaudible muttering rose in their ranks of how that beastmen was their strongest defensively, Serra was directing his overlord to part two of this act. Kharon reached out with his right hand and into his inventory space to pull out a Rod of Summoning. This top grade artifact being the rarest of its variants in having the permanent [Enhance Summon III] passive effect. Pointing the clergy-like scepter at the beastmen corpse, his low rich voice commanded-

"[Create Mid-Tier Undead: Death Knight]!" What looked to be a purple and black mass of energy appeared out of thin air and made a beeline right for the newly fresh corpse. The mass expanded and looked to seep into every fiber on the beastman's body. The corpse then twitched as if coming alive before it slowly rose to its feet, a thick ooze starting to encase it in an outer layer. Finally - the black ichor slowly twisted and contorted its host body, growing until after several long seconds, the creature of slime evaporated to reveal a death knight.

It stood almost 8 feet tall and carried a large tower shield and a long twisted steel flamberge that pulsed with a crimson energy. Its massive frame was equipped in a full plate armor set of black and soot. And spikes decorated every inch of this undead creature: from its horned helmet, to his armored body, and to the bulwark design of its shield. The few visible patches of its bare skin was of rotten sinew and its eyes shone with a murderous gleam.

This undead creation had a base level of 35 but it was an effective meat shield even for a lv.100 player. Reason being it had two skills that would let survive a single attack phase with one HP while forcing a great amount of mob aggression to itself with its taunt. But another reason this death knight was an optimal opponent for these beastmen was due to how its attack and defense ratings were structured. It was just a tanky summon that for its level for its defense was higher than most lv.40 YGGDRASIL mobs with the drawback of its attack power falling well short of a level 30. Even by appearances with its massive sword in hand. Though the Rod of Summoning's passive effect alone would raise this death knight's stats as if it were a lv.40 creature while Kharon's summoner feats would provide it even more bonus status.

The death knight's tattered cape rustled with the faintest gust as its towering figure stood before the beastmen horde. Watching their fallen become this avatar of brutality would have broken their formation if not for the magic of [Aspect Wild]. As it was - they could barely stand before it now with the spell's benefit. The shamans seemed to take the command as one ordered to hold the line while the three retreated further back to startup another channel-cast.

The Lord Serra was also quite startled himself with this development. This was much unlike in YGGDRASIL where summoned creatures would just appear in their summoner's vicinity. Sure, certain undead summons could be tagged off an in-game corpse but those visuals were usually a flashy magic seal. What happened here was more of something alien growing into existence like in the old horror flick with the body snatchers. And to the player with his newfound senses, it felt as if the very air got polluted with a dark presence.

But he would not hold it back. ["Kharon, buff it with Shield Wall and Negative Energy Aura then send it in. Let's see how it fares alone.]" The overlord did as told giving it the tier-3 [Shield Wall] which increase its defensive power moreso then casted the tier-4 [Negative Energy Aura] to give it a passive regen. The idea here was despite it being heavily outnumbered, the death knight would be able to shoulder most blows while gaining some self-healing through its normal combat phases. So it should have great lasting power.

Of course, the player greatly overestimated the strength of these beastmen by the odds of battle. After all - there is not much difference in a person stomping on one ant to a hundred.

As how it looked to the seraph and his companions of the death knight charging towards the beastmen formation at a lumbering pace, their bewildered frontline only saw a black blur bridge their ten yard gap within a second's time. A 16 pound bowling ball crashing through 10 ounce wooden pins could not toss them about violently as such. Another second and the death knight broke their entire formation in half, leaving behind of a wake of death.

["Kharon, slow it down!"] Serra was panicking at the result - the death knight had just mowed down a fifth of their number in three seconds flat. It had only arced its sword and shield once during its charge but already twenty beastmen had died. The death knight veered up into a more defensive stance to the order as the beastmen ranks that were bowled over tried to ready themselves after the intense collision. All fear of the two intruders were now focused on this monstrosity.

One of the flanks responded by rushing in with a hit and run tactic, their blades taking swipes at the undead's unshielded backside, only for it to scrape (or break) off the combination of his heavy plate and [Shield Wall]. The death knight responded by making a wide swing with his flamberge. It neatly cleaved another five beastmen.

["They are pitiful, my Lord."] Serra could hardly retort to his valkyrie's analysis because it was as she said. A death knight, even one augmented with buffs, should not be able to win THIS easily. It got the player thinking that maybe stats and ability were not indicative of *levels* in this new world. A small force of a hundred level 10-20 opponents should be able to do more than what he is seeing in display here.

The green light would shine one last time as the shamans' chanting stopped as they made ready a spellcast. This time their totem sticks were pointed directly at the death knight with each casting the same spell, "[Salamander Flame]!" Three red sigils combined into one as it bathed their target in a torrent of ruby flame. The death knight had raised its tower shield but it was not enough to cover this large spread. The flamethrower-like attack even caught a few of the beastmen in its burning path but they managed to break away without getting scorched to the bone. Even a trail in the woods caught aflame. This was a tier-5 spell and the strongest in their order in terms of offensive power. The beastmen knew its strength could melt down a castle wall of hard stone.

Yet when the flame of their magic began to fade, the death knight was still standing as if nothing had happened. The only visible damage was the black armored figure, helmet to boot, was barely smoking. Despair overcame the beastmen as some dropped to their knees upon seeing this undead still whole and unfazed. It came away from the strongest spell with only the slightest of damages and even THAT was healed up three seconds later as [Negative Energy Aura] pulsed around it.

The shamans finally looked to have given up as they dropped their totems, weak-kneed as the cost of the spell was too great to bear. But they would not even have the chance to collapse in their own exhaustion. What looked like a shadow moved, the death knight had already come up behind the three shaman in their backline, its flamberge raised like an executioner. Another wide swing and three heads rolled on the grassy floor. They never felt their death.

["Kharon, have it stop."] It was too brutal a contest than Serra had planned. Even under their [Mass: Aspect Wild] enhancement, these beastmen were too weak to really field test, well anything. Still, it was comforting to the seraph knowing a lv.35 death knight could easily overpower these beastmen so the rest of their army should be no different, if it came to it.

The remaining 70 beastmen huddled backwards while some broke away into a retreat, not like they could get far within this [Steelcage Deathmatch]. By now, the beastmen had lost the will to fight on as most were crying out to be saved but there would be no pity here. Lines of "Mercies, great ones!" came from their remainder and directed towards the silver but she would sooner kill the lot of them herself than spare a single one. But she did turn her head towards her lord to gauge his response.

A moment later, Falke relayed his directive in a cold voice, "The time for mercy is long done," as the beastmen continued to wail their pleas, "-but we's did not know!"

"It does not matter that you did not know," the valkyrie corrected. "Ignorance here was no excuse. You defied His... divine command..." The silver broke off as something interesting was taking place that also caught her lord's eye. The death knight's victims were twitching themselves and a red mist started to sizzle around their corpses. At first, the player was confused to what was going on until he had remembered a long forgotten tidbit. It was easily overlooked since death knights never score kills in high end play.

The beastmen's cries grew louder in fear of this happening as what looked like blood started to bubble from each twisting corpse, but Serra felt almost giddy watching this moment. For when a death knight gets a kill, those corpses become squire zombies. These auto-spawns are only lv.17 but they themselves have some unique skills, including the ability to auto-spawn a normal zombie off the corpse of a mob they were to kill. It brought the player back to his first year in YGGDRASIL when he had first gotten Kharon's mercenary contract, back when his build was focused on his special `Summoner class. One of the first things he did was take the lich along with Falke into a lowbie dungeon to power-level and by the end of the run, Serra was engaging its final boss with a death knight with its own army of squire zombies at the ready.

It brought a genuine smile on the seraph's face watching these little horrors spawn into being. After all, that dungeon run became the basis for Kharon's introduction into his fictional works.

["Look at that. We haven't seen this in a long time."] Serra's voice broke in a heated excitement.

["Aye, my Lord,"] Kharon hummed with pride, clearly lost in those thoughts.

Falke was even teary-eyed thinking about it. ["Yes... yes"] the valkyrie sniffed. ["To think, these beastmen were able to prove themselves 'useful'."]

The 28 squire zombies began to take form. The red ichor that enveloped every pore on its host body began to dissipate with the red mist to reveal what looked to be knights of medium build in a dull armor set of kettle helm, breastplate, greaves, and bracers that clashed with their more colorful red cloaks. They carried a halfspear and a round buckler shield, both gleaming silver. Finishing the look was their rotted skin being a shade of purple with their faces hollow and sunken.

THIS gave the Lord Serra another idea which he relayed to his companions. Kharon summoned several wraiths and they flew off to grab the stragglers trying to escape their cage and bring them back to this fore. Meanwhile, the squire zombies began to form a single file line before the distraught beastmen, who just watched more of their number become the *enemy* while seeing these 'ghost' creatures zoom around their confinement dragging back their fleeing fellows. It was clear to the beastmen what was to occur and they began to whine even more.

"This not fair!", "Please, no more!", and more cries for "Mercies!" sounded out. Most of the beastmen here were catfolk so their whining had a loud pitch and collectively was a very annoying sound. It reminded the player of his cat, that twang gutting his heart in her remembrance and that memory becoming a bottomless pit through his empathy. It was enough a change in mood that even Falke and Kharon sensed it but he waved off their concerns.

Perhaps Serra will spare a few of these overgrown furballs, just for Petey's sake. Or atleast that is what he thought now. Besides - he can use some of them to send a warning to those leading their forces. But he would have these beastmen perform in one final act in the effort to see any new world combat mechanics.

"My Lord has graciously offered you lot, one last chance to save yourselves," the silver began to explain to the remaining beastmen of pitting their skills against one of the squire zombies. Of course, the beastmen complained "Tis impossible!" thinking of how easily the death knight had crushed them all with the valkyrie then replying that any such forfeit was "-immediate death. But to those who prevail in their duel, you will be allowed to keep your life. So - do try and meet this 'fate' with some dignity. Win or lose."

Falke's pronouncement left little room for the beastmen to argue as the last of their stragglers were dropped into their crowded huddle. While the unwilling contestants did not form a neat order before their opponents, the most macho of the near 70 remaining did step forward to be the first challenger. He was one of the swinefolk, a burly figure with the features of a black boar.

"I'll beee first," came his thick voice as he held his weapon high, a battle axe that was half broken during his blindside attack on the death knight. Serra remembered this beastman being one of two that was able to avoid the deadly swing that felled his company. This would be a first good test match as the boar-man felt near the lv.20 threshold.

But his voice carried on, "But all I assk is for a new axx first. This one brokeded and not good for fair fights."

Kharon turned his head towards his lord who nodded in acquiescence. The wiseman called out [Conjure Weapon I] in his rich tenor and a magic axe in the shape of a hatchet appeared at the beastman's feet with a thud. The boar-man took a step back when it landed (head down) near his hooved-like feet but soon tossed his own weapon aside to grasp the curved handle of it. Ripping it off the ground, the beastman took a few swings with it in experienced fashion before placing both hands on the axe and raised it in salute.

"I thanks thee for such a finne weapon," and the boar-man stepped forward in the 12 yard clearing before the two sides. Falke, Kharon, and Serra (invisible) stood on the line's left rear and the death knight before its right front. The fourth wraiths hovered above the beastman crowd. Then the valkyrie ceremoniously butted the shaft of her warspear into the ground and shouted-

"Begin," with the squire zombie at the head of the line striding forth to do battle. His opponent raised a war-suey and charged forth. For the most part, the first duel was a fairly even contest. It seemed the squire zombie had the overall advantage in terms of physical strength plus armor value, but the beastman was able to counter it with some form of mobility skill as he continually dodged the undead's thrusts at a hair's breadth. And the conjured weapon served him well due to it not breaking into pieces during the numerous clashes of axe to shield.

This continued for a minute until the tip of the halfspear managed to catch the boar-man's left shoulder thus preventing him from using two-hand double blows. However the moment before, the axe managed to clip the zombie's right leg causing it to bend to a bad angle in forward motion. Still this did not stop the squire zombie's single-minded pursuit, only in how it stumbled as it walked on. But this turned out to be a great trade for the boar-man as he was still able to dance around his undead opponent while its buckler shield was not large enough to catch every ensuing blow.

Another minute passed and the beastman scored five times as many hits than before but his remaining good arm was now ringing under the pressure. Here the undead had the advantage as they were untiring creatures, but those scores hit hard and true. The squire zombie's spear arm was clipped at the elbow preventing its full range of motion and a cleave to the right hip further impeded its movement.

["Interesting... he's gonna win,"] Serra remarked. The player was actually quite impressed with this boar-man's effort. While it seemed no YGG maneuvers were being used, his swordplay - or rather axeplay - was its own artform. Sure had Kharon not turned off all the squire zombie's special skills, such as [Charge] and [Power Attack] or even its [Bash] shield attack, the duel likely would have been over a minute ago but that would have defeated the whole purpose of this mock contest.

Ultimately the goal was to see some kind of battle mechanic being used by these beastmen.

["He might, my Lord. But I sense this beastman faltering at the climax."] Kharon was referring how the beastman could now barely lift his conjured axe to deliver the strike needed to finally down his crippled opponent.

["That *dodging* move he's using is some kind of magic skill, you think?"] Serra bounced the question to the others to gauge their opinion. The player had [Detect Magic] active so he could see (and feel) the magic being used but it only appeared in spurts and the lack of a voice-over command made it feel not part of the YGGDRASIL system.

["I do believe so, my Lord. It appears to be a temporary enhancement that has to be re-cast on use."] If what Kharon said was true, then it was a horrible 'buff' mechanic to gain a stopgap evasion. Hardly an optimal skill until the overlord continued, ["But - I do not believe it works off the 10-tier system... because, I do not see any mana on or being used by this beastman."]

This caused Serra to think *what* the resource being used here to create this effect was. That human captain the Owl Knights was fighting with also used a set of flashy magic strikes he did not recognize but the seraph credited that to watching his performance through the [Mirror of Remote Viewing]. Originally he thought it was tied into the combat system rarely used by classes like Swordsages and Rune Knights, but mayhaps this is a different system altogether.

["I would say that is the more likely possibility, my Lord,"] was Kharon's answer to Serra's brief comparison.

Finally the squire zombie stumbled onto a knee, shield down and its spear laying at an awkward angle. The boar-man wasted no time coming in for a deathblow, axe arced in a high swing and aimed to its cranium. A brief light shined around the axe as his thick voice croaked, "[Strike]!" The red streak found its target, cleaving the helm and latched half of it into the zombie's head. The undead's body spasmed and black motes started to smoke around its form. Its unlife was drawing to an end but in one last attempt, its spear shot out towards the victor's stomach.

The boar-man saw the attack coming and turned, the last ditch effort slicing through his hip causing him to stumble and fall about two yards from his opponent. This wound, along with his near exhaustion, prevented the beastman from getting back up but the squire zombie's prone form, and the motes evaporating around it, was enough for the cheers to ring out from his fellow crowd to his victory.

["Not bad. Not bad."] Serra remarked, even clapping to the boar-man's triumph. That [Strike] maneuver looked to be another of these strange magic techniques. Hopefully they will be able to see more of these before the last duel is done.

["Okay Kharon - have the death knight drag him to the right and out of the way please so we can continue."] As the death knight approached the winner, the beastman looked to vomit right there and the crowd went from cheering to gasping in horror in a split second. But the creature merely grabbed him with one of his large plated hands and literally dragged the exhausted and bloodied boar-man out the way.

"Next!" came Falke's voice in a commanding tone. The next squire zombie in line stepped forward to which the silver looked at the beastmen crowd, her expression almost a little curious as to who will test their mettle.

This time a giggly catfolk with a striped pelt of orange and black calico hurried forth, grabbing the conjured axe with a heave and yanked it from the dissolving corpse. This one had some pep as if encouraged by the boar-man's win and that with this weapon in hand, his own victory was assured.

"Begin!" Again, the dull sound made by the butt of the warspear signaled the start of the duel. Both combatants made their approach with the beastman literally jumping into the squire zombie's stance with a wild look on its face.

"EEAAIIAAHH!" The poor cat's battle cry turned into a fatal shriek as the halfspear caught him in mid-air and through his gut. And the screaming only continued from there as the undead tugged and plunged and jabbed the spearhead until the beastman cried no more. An audible silence hung over his crowd.

After the first duel, the second was rather quick and anti-climatic. One of the wraiths grabbed the corpse and placed it out of the way on the left. The same squire zombie then squared his posture ready for another bout as Falke's voice called again-

"Next!"

There was no eager beastman this time around.