"Oh my, that certainly doesn't look good."

Satanael moments before the explosion

———

Xeros

The spire’s summit: only Xeros and his commanders are allowed to enter these blackened walls. Save for a sliver of light that passes through a glass dome, The Grand General’s private abode is eternally steeped within a murky darkness.

Luxury is a motivator, the bait which lures the hearts of all caught within its enticing grasp. Xeros, however, has no need for such a thing. There is no gold, no gemstones, no ornaments, nor even a speck of decoration, anywhere in sight.

Only the bare minimum of necessity remains: A throne to sit upon, as a Ruler should; desks for both Luxanne and Xeros to peruse documents and sign administration work; a map of the entire continent grandly displayed in front of the entryway; and a painting of a woman robed in white off to the side.

Luxanne stares at the painting, seemingly entranced by the visage of her mother, while Libevich leans on a wall nearby. The old hag taps her foot on the ground with an increasingly annoying cadence of boredom, but for once she’s showing a modicum of respect towards him. That, or perhaps her mind is also stuck in those bygone days.

He can’t blame them. After all, Luxmi’s portrait is the only possession of his that he has been unable to let go. He is as much as a fool as the two of them are; her curse is inescapable to those once enraptured by her vision.

“That painting of mine never fails to captivate you,” Xeros muses. “I never was one skilled in the brush, but I do think I captured her features quite nicely, wouldn’t you say?”

“I don’t know…” Luxanne mumbles. “It’s been ages since I’ve last seen mom; with every passing day, my memory of her appearance becomes more and more hazy.”

“Such is the curse called aging. The mind deteriorates, the body withers, and all that shall remain in the end are embers of what once was a roaring bonfire.”

”Are you really talking about old age before me, Xeros?” Libevich snickers. “You’re twenty years too young to be acting like some kind of wise old magus. Don’t believe him dear; aging is a state of mind. As long as you live wild and free—like me of course—you’ll be slaughtering foes on the battlefield for years to come!”

Libevich walks over to the painting and peers at it with a rather coarse look. “Well, I’ll give ya some credit; it does look pretty good. Why don’t you just hand over your Ruler title to Luxanne already and become a painter or something? I bet she’d do more in one year than you ever did with twenty.”

A black-feathered finger manifests behind Libevich and pierces her straight through the throat. Unfortunately, she appears to be unbothered by the attack, but at least she won’t be able to spit any nonsense with that mouth of hers anymore. At least, for a little bit.

Libevich throws her hands up in the air in annoyance and goes back to her little corner. Although Xeros is the one who appoints the commanders, it is rather unfortunate that the strong tend to be the ones most steeped in mental instability. Luxanne is relatively normal due to her personal upbringing, but everyone else follows a doctrine of madness such as Nokron.

Speaking of which, where is he?

“Luxanne, have you seen Nokron’s signature in the entry wit?”

“No Grand General, but he should’ve arrived a couple days before our return.”

“…And why have you not notified me about such a discrepancy?”

“I figured he just snuck in like usual.”

Xeros lets out a deep, gravelly sigh and rubs his tired eyes. “Nokron is not of the type to forego such procedures. I understand that you do not interact with him much due to the separation of your duties, but one must be accustomed to the nature of the people around, and below, you if you are to be a leader.”

“I apologize, Grand General. I shall take your lesson to heart.”

“That you must.”

He scowls and quickly sifts through the pile of documents on his desk. Nokron is a fool obsessed with research, but he has never once failed to meet Xeros's commands. His odd absence normally would have been noticed by The Grand General, but Libevich's sudden interruption has left his mind in a tired daze.

Problems after problems...it is a never-ending cycle. Xeros believed his fortune to be on the rise after Lorelai's death, but it appears no rest can be given to one such as him.

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Looking at the documents, it seems that Nokron isn't even in the city itself. None have entered his private laboratory since his departure, and no guards nor city officials have reported any sightings of him in the layers. No matter how much enjoys skulking about, this type of secrecy is unheard of from him.

Thus, only three possibilities remain: Nokron has betrayed Nox Caelum and deserted; Nokron is late for an unknown reason; or Nokron is dead.

"Fufu, I can see that old brain of yours wracking its gears," Libevich says, vocal cords now recovered. "Think Nokron deserted? He always was an odd one."

"...No. Nokron knows that no other nation will tolerate his eccentricities nor provide him with support for his experiments besides Nox Caelum. His devotion to me is genuine, and he would not have a change of heart so easily. His mind is just like yours: twisted and malformed."

"Oho, you're making this old woman blush~"

Perhaps Xeros should crush her throat again...no, he mustn't let himself be further bothered.

"If he's not in the city or deserting, what could possibly make him so late?" Luxanne asks. "I don't think anyone is capable of killing or restraining him besides someone equivalent to the Thrones, but we haven't received any news of movement from Polus for a while."

"No...perhaps there is."

"Pardon, sir?"

This situation reminds Xeros of when he first found the dead bodies of Lorelai and Gravitas. Something slayed the both of them and disappeared into the forest; now it would seem that mysterious abnormality has made its way into his territory. Another problem, another frustration; there truly is no end in sight.

"Nevermind that, I shall ascertain the truth myself. The both of you: step to the side."

"By your command, sir."

"If you say so. You sure you got enough steam left in you? Wouldn't want to exert your feeble little muscles."

"My physical state is none of your concern, now be silent. I must concentrate."

Libevich shrugs and retreats to a corner with Luxanne. Xeros covers his eye in darkness once more and releases a violent maelstrom of red lightning into the shadowy cloud. He ever so abhors using this power in the confines of his personal sanctuary, but a cold chill running through his spine advises him to act with haste. Instinct exists for a reason, and right now it is sending him a foreboding sense of dread.

In truth, there is another possibility that exists. It is one with an almost nonexistent chance of occurring, a fleeting thought banished with a dismissive chuckle back when it first came to be, but it is a possibility nonetheless.

And as the conjured eye manifests above The Magnus Murus, Xeros realizes how utterly complacent he has been. He believed himself with utmost certainty that Polus's King would be paralyzed with grief over the loss of his treasured love. He believed the winged nation to be overcome with despair over the loss of their ever-so radiant protector. He believed the cowardly King to further sink into his own cowardice.

But as he stares at the ruined remains of the once-proud fortress, Xeros realizes the full depth of his arrogance. Instead of crippling the King, Lorelai's death has crippled himself.

Below him are signs of a vast and great battle. Although there appears to be no bodies or lingering remnants of aura, the ground, razed into a coarse sand, is littered with craters and dents. Big, small, deep, shallow...the variation is much too large to have been caused by a single entity. No, a large force caused this, an army, and only one nation is close enough to conduct an invasion of such scale: Polus.

Polus is invading Nox Caelum. Judging by the state of the battlefield, a few weeks have passed since The Magnus Murus's destruction. If they maintained a steady pace, then...

Xeros recedes The Corvid's Eye into nothingness and slams his desk with a thunderous crunch, shocking the two commanders over the sudden bout of aggression.

Questions and words are hurled at him by the two, but The Grand General cannot hear any of it. He claws at his face and quickly paces around the room in a manic trance. Is it revenge? A last, desperate move brought about from the King's shattered mind? No, the reason doesn't matter. What matters is that his territory has been invaded by Polus with nary a hint or sign of their movement. That is impossible, unfathomable, for every speck of his domain is tightly monitored. The swamps, the highlands, the borders...everything is carefully watched and inspected, the area surrounding The Magnus Murus even more so.

Nokron would have never let something as large as Polus's army to storm the fortress without sending at least a word of warning to the capital. That means they must have surprised him somehow before he could respond, but that would require a firm understanding of the battlefield and a situational awareness of the Nox's encampments and structure. The fortress is isolated from the other forces due to its isolation and surrounding geology, which is why Xeros fortified its defenses to such a large degree, but it is also the ideal starting point for an invasion if one's objective is to prevent the spread of information.

It is a clever ploy. Only a strategist of Lorelai's level could have devised such a scheme, but does Polus have someone with such capabilities? Xeros knows the other two thrones are but mere battle fanatics with natures' akin to Libevich; just how could such a capable individual escape his knowledge?

This is not good. The city isn't prepared for an invasion and the defenses are currently inactive. Assembling the ranks and preparing for a siege will take time, time Xeros does not have. If his estimates are accurate, then Polus will descend upon Caligos Imperium in a week, nay, a couple of days at most. Perhaps...even today.

"Damn you, Ascalon!" Xeros growls, eyes blood red from fury. "Has madness overcome you to such a degree? To think a cur like you would dare come after my throat after years of meekness. Damn it all!"

Luxanne flinches at his sudden rage and attempts to calm him down. "G-Grand General, what's going on? You-"

"There's no time to spare Luxanne!" he barks. "We must-"

But before The Grand General can finish, a sudden shockwave from below sends everyone in the room tumbling onto the floor. The entire spire shakes and groans from the sudden force, dust and debris falling loose from the ceiling, and as Xeros raises his gaze once more, he sees a massive arrow of coalesced aura descending straight towards them from the sky.