V6: Epilogue

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Interlude: Alistair, the Exile

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A monster.

The King of Wisdom plucked a monster from the depths of hell and set her upon me like a creature of nightmares in the guise of a young woman.

"Master, you shouldn't be up."

"I'm fine." Pain from the wound in my side erupted as I settled into the seat of the 'cockpit' of the Ancient craft. Lessons given to me by my father took control. In moment, I was guiding it through the skies on instinct. Freer than any other in the planet below. In the craft, I could see the curvature of the planet and the stars above were an endless sea. "I can do this much, Belford."

My familiar nodded at my words, while I winced again at the stabbing pain in my ribs.

A simple rock had been flung at me as the hatch closed, yet if I had not dodged the projectile I would've perished. Instead, the speeding weapon cracked two of my ribs as it glanced off of me. If I had not dodged, it would've sent shattered pieces of rib into my lungs and killed me.

The hateful gaze of the creature the King of Wisdom plucked from the abyss was a silver lining in our hasty escape.

However, I knew for fact that it hunted me even now and it would not stop until I was dead.

"Master, the station is ahead."

"Handshake protocol is engaged." I grimaced as eighteen warnings came up in Ancient Script. Fifteen were familiar to us, but three were new. Energy reserves failing. Unable to maintain orbit. Defensive perimeter breaking down. I understood. This secluded island, hidden away by magic and technologies long lost, was at its end. The Citadels rising must have undone the ancient seals used by our forebears to protect us. "This may be the last time we enter this sacred place."

The Silver Tear was named for it shape. Eight generations ago, this place called upon our transport as we first managed to push it past the clouds. As its name implied, the structure hung in the air and was shaped like a droplet and most of its hull was a shiny, smooth silver seemingly without any point of entry. In the first entries describing it, the hull was described as completely silver and smooth… but over the centuries it incurred damage.

Black spots and burns suffused its hull, more and more warnings came alive whenever we approached it, and now I could see that it was soon to be gone.

But this last moment here is all that we required.

The hull opened and our craft flew itself in… and we waited until the hangar doors opened, before we exited. We breathed crisp, cool air and walked through the metal construct's hangar with our weight greatly lightened due to our distance from the planet below. Lights glowing a dim blue came alive, granting us sight of the empty hangar where once dozens of transports must've once lay. A brief count of the panels told me that there were more nonfunctional than the last time I came.

This place was fading away, but it will render onto us one last service.

"Follow me, the others can stay in the transport. Ensure the cabin is locked."

"Yes, master." Belford did as I bid and followed me as I walked through the small structure. It was a marvel, but it was small by design. A final domicile amidst the stars as all others lay in ruins. How much effort and blood did it take the Ancients to send this upward in their waning days? Such was a question I wished to discern and discover in my fading days, when I entrusted my duties to an heir. That day shall never come. The Academy was gone. "What are we searching for?"

"The last vault of this place, which we left here." We retrieved the corrupted blade from here to deliver to the Conquerors, and that had been the second to last vault. Now I knew not where it was, but the King of Wisdom most likely found a way to handle it, encased it in some substance like lead, and carted it to the nearest smelter. That thing was lost to us, and all the other treasures sealed were used and gone. This one was the last and most powerful. My side ached as I entered the hall where my ancestors once stood, Belford loomed behind me, ready to help me. We reached the final door before I succumbed to weakness. It opened and revealed the final treasure. "There it is—hrrk."

Pain flowered through my chest.

I lost feeling to my legs.

Then, I fell forward onto pool of blood steadily flowing from where my had been.

Belford then stepped ahead of me and took the last, final treasure contained by the Ancients into his hand.

I determined what happened in an instant… and choose my last words.

"You fed upon me as I lay unconscious, as you aided me."

"I did, my dear master. I did." Mirth filled Belford's voice, especially as he read the ancient script and looked upon the treasure. With little hesitation after finishing, he opened his mouth, filled with rows and rows of teeth… and consumed it. Glass and forbidden elixir flowed through him and entered his gullet. That injured him. Those of my retinue in the transport will die to feed him. "And, now, for the first time in centuries… my bloodline is free."

Darkness crept into my vision slowly as pain faded.

"And, now, I take the final miracle left behind by my true creators." Belford gloated and relished in the lie he and his forefathers were given. This was a facility contained several things. Some were called treasures. Others dangerous assets. He and his ilk were the latter. Not truly mortal and not construct composed of technology and magic. A weapon that held promise, but ultimately was considered a failure. I was tempted to correct him, but I knew better. I needed to choose my final words well as my life ebbed low and the darkness creeped in my vision. My final action drew near. "This shall complete me, even though you wasted all the gifts that were meant to be mine and my family's."

He struck me with such precision in order to keep me alive. He did so… so that he could gloat, so that I would feel his betrayal, and satisfy his base desires.

And, continue to believe the lie that he was fed like a complete and utter fool.

Instead of obliging him, after I was satisfied by my curiosity of my failing, I decided to act.

Out of pure, simple spite.

I spoke in ancient script, as my father taught me, as was the method to control Belford and his lineage. "Priority command: self-destruct protocol commence."

I could hear Belford's sneer in his voice, when he addressed me again.

"I am beyond you, my dear master. I have been beyond you since I supped from you one last time. I only needed you to gain entry to this place and retrieve my birthright."

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Despite it all, despite all sensation leaving me, and despite the facts that my thoughts should be on my failures and my regrets, I instead laughed and spoke to him one last time.

It will not kill him.

Not with the asset that he consumed, but those that followed here me will not be consumed by him, and it will harm him immensely.

He will take hold of the remains of the Academy henceforth, but my most loyal and most talented will not fall to him.

"Fool." I whispered with the last of my strength as I lay upon a pool of my blood. At least, I managed to spare my last, faithful followers the shame of dying to a fool and a weapon bereft of any soul. "Those words weren't for you. They were for the Silver Tear."

I did not know how Belford reacted, if his face contorted in surprise or terror, but I did know that he broke into a run instantly at my words.

But the deed was done.

Alarms began to blare.

Blue lights turned red and began to flicker.

A great, terrible engine roared to life one last time.

Knowing thus, I allowed myself to remember the Academy, its halls of learning, its verdant fields, and lands filled with the true inheritors of the Ancients.

A place where we lived as lords over all other races, where we would retake the world entire, and the stars in the future.

As I died, I held hope in my heart for the future.

The King of Wisdom slaughtered the Children of the Elm and scattered them to never gain strength again.

Even now, he conquers and subjugates them to do as he bids.

Perhaps, in time, he will act as a true master of the world should take hold of the wheel, of creation itself, and subjugate all others.

This world was ours.

No.

This world and all the stars were ours.

With that final thought, a screaming alarm reverberated through the Silver Tear, I felt a faint rumbling through my cooling blood, and then a brightness that pierced for a moment the darkness that overtook my vision.

Then, nothing at all.

…

The Wraith Champion. They had the Wraith Champion. No wonder the Academy got away with so much bullshit.

"Ayah, prepare to send a priority message to Morgan. We've got trouble." We were with the Forgers' fortress again and coordinating our upcoming strike against one of the generals of the Death Lord. My intention was simple: knock down the boss monster's pillars of support until it stood alone. As mighty and strong as it was, it couldn't rule and lead armies on its own. "I've read about the creature she described in her report. The one that saved the Academy's upper leadership."

"I'll send a runner for the messenger on standby. What's the priority level?"

"Critical. There's no way to kill what they're facing now." The Wraith Champion is a shitty, event-based one that's a great advantage on the Intrigue Layer. An Ancient attempt to create a super-spy, it's basically a living shadow that has some meat parts tethering it to the mortal coil. If the meat parts get destroyed, it can just regenerate new ones and come back. As long as you couldn't hit the 'shadow' part, the 'living' portion could just come back. "She needs to hit that thing with a ton of magic. Not just… hit it with a brick or something."

Morgan was really living it up fighting on the front now. The Demon Lord unit used loads of weapons while fighting, flash-forging them on the fly out of flame and steel, and making them blow up into explosive shrapnel after each use. Swords, claymores, axes, and more would be used to smash apart veteran, fully-upgraded Units by the dozen, and it would only stop using them if you got it to half health.

Then, it'll start pulling out all the strongest spells in the game, so it's time to send in the Champions rather than your armies.

Anyway, since Morgan was only using basic weapons and throwing them away after breaking them, I could assume she never reached half-health in her assignment.

Not a surprise, but I wasn't about to wait for that to happen.

"Any magic in particular which it should be weak to?" Ayah inquired and placed a cup of fresh tea on my desk. Since I planned on staying with the Forgers for a few weeks, I had my usual setup flown in. The villa wasn't built yet, so I was working in a command tent retrofitted to act as my suite for the time being. It was good enough to get me to work at eighty percent efficiency or so. "Morgan will surely be able to learn whatever she needs."

Great, my Ancient Administrator is starting to admire the Demon Lord that I've got on my retinue.

"Flame and lighting and holy magic most likely. All three would be best. Tell her she can ask the Wardens for tutoring, if she thinks she needs it." I didn't want the Wraith continuing to exist, especially since it wasn't working for me. It's a pain to put down on the battlefield, and a gigantic pain the ass with all its intrigue bonuses. Thankfully, I had the Panopticon ready and I was establishing versions of it in each city. Try disguising yourself as one of my people when I'm watching them all at the same time. Make my job easier, please. "Also, tell her if she can't find a lead within fifteen weeks, it'll be a sub-priority. I want her for the fight against the Death Lord."

That statement had Ayah raise an eyebrow.

"The Death Lord will be within our reach in such a short amount of time?" Did Morgan looking that good make Ayah question my own abilities? Or, maybe, I was being paranoid and she was just questioning the fact that I could predict the final siege against an opponent that the whole continent was barely keeping in check. Whichever the case was, though, the right answer was to get rid of any doubt of my ability. "How?"

I sat back in my chair and answered as evenly and calmly as I could.

"That's when all the mercenaries we sent in starts poisoning all their food and water. And, that's also when we'll have enough to start a bombing campaign."

Decapitation strikes on leaders.

Mass poisoning of their army's food and water.

Aerial bombardment of military and non-military structures under the Death Lord's control.

"Either the Death Lord moves and exposes himself, or we kill everything under his control. That's how I know we'll need Morgan by then."

Game tip: you can speed up your conquest of regions and kill bosses more quickly by committing war crimes.