Imperator Roheisa Deapou.

4th Legion, the Vulcans.

25th of Trescia, 1492.

Mount Hertham. Kasian Empire, Southern Kasian Mountains. Altitude: 3,605 m.

08:00.

***

I thought I knew the power of the Vulcanox. There was no way I could not, after all. The Vulcanox was my heritage just like the darkness was Amun's. My father's fathers lived as nomads, following the herds around the metallic volcanoes of Phaegrath. All of our tribes did, remaining to our volcanoes of copper, tin, electrum, and… Iron.

When the Vulcanox left their volcanoes, the tribes warred and raided. When the Vulcanox returned, they knew peace. Then my father met the Necro King, Everandus Cole. Or rather, the Necro King revealed himself to my father after observing him for days.

Their friendship saw the Necro King leave his home as my father was exiled. Thus they taught each other their ways. My father taught the Necro King how to live rough as a nomad; how to raid, and how to rage. The Necro King made my father literate and taught him etiquette and chivalry. From there, our fates were sealed; mine and Amun's. I was a Barbaric Princess, raised with the teachings of a royal dame while living in the Iron Mountain. The blood of the Vulcanox flowed through me, thus I knew the power that would awaken in me. Or… I thought I knew.

After all, I'd never seen my father erupt.

So it was, when I erupted, I knew not the extent of the damage I had caused. In truth, during or after, I knew nothing at all. All I knew was the roiling field of red that consumed me after eating the Vulcanox heart. It poured down my throat with the first bite, turning into something like alchemical fire as it consolidated within my spirit as something that beat against the inside of my body, demanding release.

Only in hindsight- only through NoxNet- did I see myself in vivid detail.

I dashed. I thrashed. I bashed. Into Elurial, I charged, ramming her through the caldera wall with enough force to send her tumbling down the mountain to her apparent death. Having no other target, I began swinging at the sloshing magma and falling stones I perceived as threats; causing the Vulcan Heart in my spirit to beat harder and hotter. I sank to the bottom of the hot spot I created and bashed my fists against everything around me, cracking the very summit apart so as to let my fury pour down the face like molten tears of steel. However, the steel volcano was not allowed to cry.

On the contrary, the stroke of divinity connecting me to my woven world took hold, guiding the erupted mass into the skies to add new lands to my world; unbeknownst to me. All I knew was the red field until the lack of stimulation saw the Vulcan Heart stop beating and freeze over. Two days later, the pain of a thousand needles woke me from the red field turned black. I found myself in the middle of a boiling caldera, staring at the night sky from the highest volcano on the Peninsula. I stared at the worlds woven by my friends and by me. There, those worlds spoke to me, telling the tale of Amun's bottled rage days after everyone else.

It was pain, that tale. Pain incarnate. A story of trauma that made my rage seem like a petty, childish temper tantrum.

It took some time, but I pushed through it, rising to my feet to shift my gaze over the lava field around me. Only to find I was not alone. My Doppelganger had returned from Mazi, and she came with friends. Allies. Subordinates for my headquarters. Corps' for my Legion. Civilians for my world above. So too did she come with familiar faces- Slate, Amethyst, Corundum, Darekhil Mountainpike, and their subordinates.

Moreover, Elurial climbed the mountain again, this time with a convoy of Kasian natives trailing behind her bolstered strides. I thought her to be angry but… she wasn't. On the contrary, she was infatuated; both with my power and the grace she received from Amun. Thus she birthed the same infatuation in her followers, refining and polishing it as the weeks went on.

I knew not how I felt about it. Being worshiped was… strange. Embarrassing, at first. And then… burdensome. If a princess's work was diminutive compared to that of an empress, being an empress was diminutive when compared to… this. Those gathered by my Doppelganger aside, their eyes gleamed as if I were as legendary as my father when we were first introduced. Every action I took was regarded with reverence, no matter how mundane. I knew not how to react to any of it. I only knew it would increase alongside our numbers. Thus I felt as if everything I did had to be perfect. That, however, was the problem. I was building not just my subguild but my empire, thus I had to decide what perfect even meant, and I wasn't the planning type like Amun. So, I did what felt perfect to me.

As I knew back home, I hardened the caldera, leaving irrigation channels and drainage pipes carved in the surface before spreading seeds and saplings throughout the space with my subordinates. Elurial joined shortly after, freeing me to descend into the magma chamber. With her members, she forested the caldera complex and went on to inhabit it by living in their vehicles full time, treating them like mobile tents in the sense that she'd drive someplace new every few days; a trait everyone seemed to adopt as time passed; even me.

I did not pick up such a practice until much later, however. It was the Goliaths who fully embraced the culture first. Naturally, Corundum was the first of them. Having occupied the snow-capped peak overlooking the caldera, her people forever remained on the move. Following after the massive goats native to the region like my ancestors did the Vulcanox. So it was they took a liking to Ed's inventions. Particularly the Meep- a squat, beetle-like self-driving wagon Ed named as an acronym I cared not to learn. They fully integrated them into their lives, first by learning to build and maintain them, then by upgrading them to hold their arms and armor, beds, fireboxes, and all other things needed to survive in the outlands. Like wolves, they roamed the summit in packs of their Meeps until they found a suitable 'den' to park around. Then the workings of Corundum's subculture would fall into play, wherein she would create daily, weekly, and monthly challenges for her subordinates and invite the entirety of the Legions to compete and compare their scores.

Being the strongest and thus being the leader of the four Goliaths, those practices slowly but surely bled down the mountain. Amethyst, being the second strongest, took up residence just beneath the frost line, where she first surprised me by carving a Vulcanox Totem for her Barbaric Path and dedicating herself to it wholly. On top of that, she did as Corundum did and created a long list of games to test and train her subordinates. As fighters, Kaolinite and Slate took different routes entirely, further developing our culture. They learned to create and operate Meeps like the others; albeit highly armored ones. However, they made them in such a way that they could be linked together and detached seamlessly, enabling their so-called modular castles to roam the volcano's base and the surrounding dales. Whereas the former set up an elaborate Dueling Ring, the latter established a Champion's Arena and filled it with annexes and dungeons dedicated to every skill he could think of, and once done, Twilight graced both of them, enabling the competitors to fight and face challenges to the grisly end and walk away stronger and with more 'V Points.' Whatever those even were.

As for Darekhil Mountainpike, he and his subordinates carved their home into the caldera's inner wall, then constructed a network of spacious tunnels and caverns extending down to the mountain's base. There, a fair bit above the magma chamber, they established our industry, if only to construct those armored 'tanks,' as Amun called them. But the ones they built had articulating legs and round bodies that made them look like large spiders capable of wading through magma.

In the interim, I was below, in the castle town I made from my lesser wise rock and the magma chamber. In truth, I knew not the outcome of doing so, but my tower could have been retrieved without much effort and so I tried. The yield was unlike anything I could have imagined.

The wise rock absorbed the material in the upper portions of the chamber, clearing out an anatomically correct heart-shaped space that was then sealed by what appeared to be a crystalline wall, double-layered to sandwich a lake of magma between them. The interior walls of the crystal bubble were then filled with layered steel to create halls, staircases, wings, and rooms; all riddled with mana-filled pipes and conduits that kept the temperature comfortable levels. Therein I worked for the next few months, teaching the subordinates about the ways of a regal barbarian just as the others were doing with their ways above. Just like the others were doing on the surrounding peaks, my Doppelganger used her free time to recruit many more outlanders.

So it was, things proceeded without issue until today, the 25th of Trescia.

It began like any other day. My Executor, Aruna Alfarr, gathered the rest of my headquarters staff on the practice field for our morning training, only for an announcement from on high to cut any practice short. Thus we ascended to the caldera to see the woven worlds of Eotrom stacked on top of Mani, pouring its essence over the realms.

Within seconds of that silver field sweeping over the land, the ambient mana rose to a density of ice, and then on to diamond while the mana wells of my many subordinates swelled to the same point. One by one, the mana cycling through them began to slow before their spiritual organs cracked like mine, causing the once-still energy to roil and churn with a vibrancy it never had before.

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Arcana made me feel like what I had before was a trickle of mana; like I'd been drinking dirty, tainted water my entire life and had taken my first drink out of a spring. I felt like I was positively bursting with energy- like I could do anything; like my magic could reach anywhere. Which, I supposed was true. However, I could not ponder it, for the influx of energy saw the other worlds repeat Mani's actions, bringing great change to the peninsula.

Knowing not was coming, I sent the order to reform our towers at once while the rest of us watched the native goats, bears, lynxes, and other creatures enlarge to massive frames or become more feral, dire versions of their species. Others began to wreathe their frames in magic, taking on earthen, metallic, fire, and molten attributes while a few rare creatures looked our way and spoke. Yet, for all its glory, it was a mere prelude- a catalyst to the destruction we all seemed to be waiting for.

Mana had begun to shift, change, and condense into Extreme Mana Zones all across the Peninsula. This caldera wound up being no different in that regard. Mana splintered space itself, opening gaping wounds that bled molten fluids over the lands. Lightning cracked the skies with enough intensity to shatter stone with its thunderous roar, adding more material to be melted and added to the roiling mix. Yet even that was not the end. My woven world spreading my magic throughout the realm coupled with the arcane energies of these creatures saw an evolution in the Extreme Mana Zone as well. Just as our Mana Wells cracked, so too did the volcano, and the Extreme Mana Zone formed around it, explosively erupting with no warning. All but the strongest of us were forced off the face and thus were left to stare at the sheer pillar of lava and molten steel, rising higher than I could believe.

{WARNING: Arcane Anomaly detected. Designation: Calamitous Arcane Territory.}

"You can't be serious!"

Gritting my teeth, I leaped into action, producing a magnetic field to rip me into the skies. Yet it was far stronger than I anticipated. My first officers unwittingly came along for the ride, and so too did a significant portion of the highly ferrous ground along with a stream of molten steel, peeling off the rising falls; unbeknownst to me, for I was concentrating on grabbing hold of the immense volumes of lava ejecting into the sky.

Alfer Umis, my mage, reported the stream approaching at a ridiculous pace, even as I raced to the eruption's apex. Having no time to request assistance from me, the half-elf reached out to grasp the oncoming stream and found she had utter control of it. Like a human manipulating the elements, she flattened and elongated the molten mass into a plate and cooled it with arcane water before pulling it to our feet.

While grasping the lava was easier than ever before, I had never handled this much at once. Thus it required all of my focus to draw the column into a roiling heart suspended above me; and it required even more focus not to lose myself in despair as my body rotated, bringing my eyes across the many burning columns ascending across the Peninsula. Volcanoes erupted all along the mountains bisecting the Southern Peninsula, splintering ancient stone and sending untold volumes of ash and dust into the skies along with the crimson pillars. They stretched from the highest peak on which we sat, overlooking Redagh, to the end of the mountain range at the border of the Rharian and Ligin Kingdoms to the far west. The Kasian-Rharian-Chaulortian Tri-Point was hit as well. As was the sole mountain range to the north, within Vruria, near the borders of Mazi and Nevstan.

Feeling as if my mana output had at least quintupled, I guided my officers in grasping hold of the roiling heart above using their newfound abilities while I sustained it with my breath, infused with mana. With my hands, I reached out to those distant columns to the north and south and guided my mana down into those twin streams until I found their hearts, and began pumping them furiously. The columns bloomed, rising in heat and radiance until they threatened to out-compete the sun itself and incinerate everything around them. Winter was pushed back, alongside the fault lines spanning the Kasian-Chaulort border, South-Central Rhar, and the heart of Vrur; not only with lava but with Extreme Mana Zones of varying natures.

Almost at a loss for what to do, I turned my eyes upward, wherein I recoiled in the face of something familiar. My woven world, Edinda retreated into the sky after it… winked at me, shedding a final tear that seemed to race at me with great speed. A tear, it seemed, until it grew into a shard, then into a train, and on into a hill that steadily increased in size. A hill with… legs. Legs of blazing fire and a stony body of… matted fur.

As what could only have been the rough 'flesh' of a severed neck came into view, the illusions persisting at the edge of my vision went wild. Boxes and circles fell over every point of the strange object's surface, forcing images, schematics, and details into my senses before they congealed into a single message.

{Vessel Connected: Zeta-Class Uma, Model: Vulcanox Crawler-Transport.}

Almost instinctually, I began guiding a small stream of lava into the open wound of the Vulcanox I slayed, now made into an undead machine that had dimensions in the kilometers. Just before it made contact, however, a tiny something detached from our new home and radiated with a light intense enough to outshine reality itself. When it faded, reality seemed to have been shocked to a stillness. The columns of lava remained suspended in the distance, leaving a smattering of red and black spots against the ashen backdrop. Below me, my subordinates were focused on guiding the columns and spots to the heart above me. Scattered elsewhere among cities and people, I could see silver and golden auras protecting the lands from significant damage. Before me, though, was an expectedly unexpected face, holding something peculiar.

"I should have asked first."

Though he said it in a teasing manner, I knew Amun well enough to understand the many hidden meanings of his words. He should have asked before allowing Ed to make a crawling castle out of the Vulcanox I killed. He should have asked before making me some armor. He should have asked before bestowing my subordinates with my abilities. Those things were all true. I could hardly ponder them, however.

So it was, he pressed on. "Although I don't know why you dislike all things divine, it's not my place to ask. I figure you'll tell me if and when you want to, and that's fine with me. However, I'll offer it to you still because I believe you would prefer this over wicked mana."

"Well…" 'That's not entirely true.' I sighed, looking down at his left hand and then his right, spread and filled with wickedness and divine mana respectively. Deep down, I was aware that my father used my mother's death to convince me to be angry with the Gods. I knew that was intended to be a scapegoat to awaken my rage; in turn, I knew that realizing that truth was supposed to be enough to make me go berserk. But, wrong though he may have been, I could not hate my father for that. Nor could I hate Amun for being a God.

On one hand, I wanted to become wicked- undying and fiendish in order to complete the paths forged by my father and the Necro King, and to show the Gods my wrath as my father so taught me. On the other hand, I desired to bring great change to Maru; and, I supposed, the Mortal Plane. If that meant becoming a Goddess of Eotrom, then I decided I would become everything I hoped the Gods to be; and nothing like they were in reality.

Therein gave me my answer.

"That much is true." I began, grasping first his left, wicked hand. Much to his surprise. "I thank you for showing me this, the evolution of my family's culture. And for looking out for my subordinates, though I suppose they are yours as well."

"You suppose?" Amun snickered, though he looked at his wicked hand with an eye of curiosity.

"I had no desire to be holy, that is true. However." I continued, grasping his right hand, fueled with his divine essence. "It's as you told us last year. We need to be strong enough to protect ourselves from anyone. Even the Gods. We will become the Eternal Gods and Goddesses of your pantheon- of these realms. So I will take these," I said resolutely as I guided his hands to clasp and merge the wicked with the divine as he had done with Toril.

"With this wickedness, I will become a plague to the sources of my rage, burning away the cruelties of the Gods and burying those who hold their heels over women beneath a mountain of steel. With this, the power of the divine, I will become Eotrom's Goddess of Volcanoes, Vulcanox, and Fertility and see to it that no mother meets the same fate as mine. Finally, with the power of my ancestors, I will spread the Cult of the Vulcanox across the Mortal Plane and work to protect the noble creatures of my heritage."

I felt an unbelievable surge of energy flow into me the moment I clasped my hands around his. It flowed into me like lava falls, condensing while descending into my spirit to take the form of a chained dagger that wrapped around the Vulcan Heart and pierced it through to inject a venom of sorts into my spirit.

That wickedly divine toxin saw the namesake of my class be corrupted with the blessed powers of life, death, fertility, and nature. It seeded an intense warmth and a dreaded cold into my flesh, granting a breath of life to any and every noble thing the beating Vulcan Heart pointed me to; and damning everything else.

Within a second, the rush and in turn, Amun was gone, replaced by the indomitable roar of the volcanic catastrophe around me. A single thrust of the hand solved the seemingly overbearing problem I was facing just moments ago. As if they were guided by their own will, the crimson spires churned into and onto my Uma. The column of Vruria landed gently atop its back, forming a mountainous cairn of basalt atop its shoulder blades that dripped down to thicken the matted rows of fur along its ribs. The Tri-Point column flowed into the open face of its chest, infusing its heat into the chamber I created by ripping the beast's heart out. As the new heart formed and began to beat, the Uma hummed to life with a roar that saw the volcanoes built atop its shoulders begin to smolder. The columns from the mountain range beneath me flowed over that open neck to form a skull of molten steel, encased in a castle of crystalline flesh sealed beneath a skin of igneous rock.

The end of the Peninsula-wide eruption came moments later, followed by the Uma settling within a rising cloud of volcanic ash, where only the hateful amber glare of its eyes and the massive spires for horns stared down on the mountains below. The gaze born from those burning eyes saw the many magmatic creatures around us begin a mass migration to the floating mountain. My subordinates were the only exceptions, including Elurial and the other founders. They looked at me and each other with unbridled awe, and this time, it was deserved. I, however, could not take my eyes off the item before me. My armor, once an elegantly dominating suit of Valkyrie armor, was now much smaller in stature, and yet more solid. Not to mention... familiar.

It was now reduced to just a helm with a long, fiery cape that flowed from the semi-braided ponytail atop the crown. The light produced from it joined the volcanic glow of the crystalline horns it sat between, swept forward like that of the Vulcanox. Yet its cheeks were frilled, ending in long whiskers like the salamander I slayed last year.

"I should add," Amun said from both everywhere and nowhere. "This is still Valkyrie armor, only remade to meld with your barbaric path. Being reduced to a helmet means you can still go berserk while wearing it. I also made it into a training tool, however. Seeing as how you just made an oath, you are officially a paladin now, so congratulations! One day, though, you’ll reach the end of your barbaric path and fulfill your oath. This will help you merge those classes when that time comes."

"M- merge them?" I stammered, taking the helm to stow it under my arm, where it felt so fittingly comfortable. Yet, it was those lingering lights that answered the question for me.

{Training Protocol Initiated: Legendary Class - Barbaric Paladin, Agent of the Vulcanox.}