27th of Trescia, 1492.
***
While I was the Eternal God of this universe, I was merely at the first stage of my evolution. A Demi-Eternal. Higher in station and yet lesser in power than the prominent deities of the Mortal Plane. As such, there were many things I could not see, and more I could not touch.
Therein was the reason for the cloth. Therein was the reason for Champions. Mortals could do all sorts of things for the sake of their Gods. Mortals given divine power could do great things to the Plane of Mortals. Mortals given divine power and 'immortality' could do nearly anything. Especially for me, Amun of the Nox.
So it was. I made the leaders of my cloth 'immortal.' 'Immortal' in differing ways. Divine beasts and mortals merged by a touch of the Moon; vampires of unseen light and gilded darkness, bisected by the pervasive gloom sensed by all things sentient.
So it was. The leaders of my cloth made their mirrors 'immortal.' 'Immortal' in the same ways as them. Moontouched or Vampyric knights, riders, clerics, paladins, witches, and monks. The wrath of the void above and the plagues of the darkness below, bisected by the silent scourge that was my 11th Legion; the Lordlings.
They were my looking glasses to those places hidden behind fleshy webs, gnarled forests, and exotic spellcraft. They were the hands that would stealthily rip them asunder with the power of the word and the pen, coupled with time. They were the keys that would open the proverbial gates, allowing the wrath and plagues to destroy the foundation of what existed and make what remained fall, never to rise again.
As was above, so was below. What was before would come to pass next. What was next would come to pass later; and later; and later, for the risen had been perched for too long without seeing their branches sway. Thus, the Fall would rise to rule for just as long. These things and much more were to be preceded by Gloom, heralded by her riders.
It was with such a mind that I paid as much attention to the Lordlings as I did the Darkroom and the core of my home world. En route to Shujen, the Purveyors of Gloom bore witness to the changes brought to the Bodhi Peninsula after that burst of energy was sent to Maru. In doing so, Elijah felt the essence of being an explorer in the entirety of his being. From that mirthful feeling came a power that saw his visage shine like a star from my recline on Mani's surface. However, the energy that birthed the aura witnessed through my Divine Sight resembled a stream of golden particles that flowed into the glowing cylinder above my Mana Well, where it was molded, folded, and forged until it imploded into divine mana that flowed in several streams.
The smallest of those streams leaked directly from the Divine Well into the small antechamber before it; the Orison Vestibule, if only because the Lordlings were not the type of zealots to pray; only worship. And not to me, to Cononthoth. The Exalted Gloom that bisected me and my dark twin, Numa; the Owl. The spiritually divine ring around my heart that was the Piety Nave, on the other hand, melded my divine mana into something akin to a super-powered bolstering ability that only worked sometimes. Here, it fueled my eyes with the means to gaze upon every significant thing on Shujen's surface and not much of what was below with ease.
Again, the energy needed to fuel the toroidal organ was negligible. Unlike the Credence Cortex, relatively speaking, but only because of choice. According to all I've learned, I quickly became a 'hands-on' God after the neural net-like structure grew in my spiritual body's cerebral cortex. It cost me nothing to use it, after all, and being present in the minds of my followers without my physical presence was an invaluable tool as a leader. When coupled with the limited omniscience given by the Diadem of Empyrean Facultas and the ability to perform 'miracles' with the Metaphysical Form, I could command my Legions and govern my Empire from anywhere, and in the most obscure ways. Ways that were limited only by the wisdom of my followers.
Even the energy required by those two things was small compared to the divine mana that flowed through the hollow, liver-like organ next to the Divine Well, however. The Divine Sea was, as the name implied, a shallow sea infused with every aspect of my divine profile. For the most part, it was to be withdrawn conditionally only. Or rather, that was the case with the Divine Pool. Now, the organ had a tumor-like growth- a tap that flooded the sea with arcana and covered it with a compressed atmosphere of mana.
Simply by existing, it made the arcana within latch on to the darkest, most draconian parts of my portfolio that had been leaking into Elijah's spirit, along with some engineering essence. Then, just like everyone else's, it was returned to its sender, enabling him to explore with greater zeal in a perpetual feedback loop of prowess. Enabling me to peer through his senses, feelings, and spirit from the comfort of my world.
The changes born to the Bodhi Peninsula made him and thus I feel like I was traveling through a new realm. Each meter gained brought a discovery, an observation that made one want to investigate and learn all there was to know about this Era of Arcana the Bodhi Tree now found itself in. But it was not so simple as that. Such things were to be fought for. Just as nature intended.
As my Imperators had grown, so too had the Peninsula grown. So too had its bestial denizens grown. So too had the sapient species grown. So too had its civilizations. And so, the eternal game for dominance had been revamped like never before. Everyone from the homesteaders and city-states below to the castles and islands that had risen into the sky had to fight for each meter gained- each noted observation, each show of dominance.
Just as nature intended.
Veins and arteries of wide roads made of black stone branched from the tunnel Elijah had carved not so long ago, winding across the entirety of Ligin to connect any settled place with Rhar and Chaulort without having them venture through Kasia. They were elevated too, with multi-leveled overland bridges that generally left nature untouched, for nature had been touched in other ways. That became most apparent when I 'joined' Elijah on his venture across Vruria, where the black roads seamlessly morphed into avenues of petrified woody vines woven atop the canopy of the greater and much darker forest. Yet vines of metal grew on those structures like all the ones before, repairing them whenever the divine beasts of Vruria got too close in their game of dominance; which was a near constant.
All of that was not to say there were no safe havens, however. Shujen was the complete opposite of what I'd seen on my walk. Those same elevated roads of black stone were present, emitting steam from the banks of snow at their borders. However, smaller roads branching off them led not to cities or abodes but to training fields, firing ranges, mock villages, and other such structures manned by the very undying bodies that once followed me across the frozen land. Wizards, bards, and artificers swarmed them in droves, firing their spells, thrumming their instruments, and activating their machinations on the undead for a fee or venturing out to challenge the orcs, goblins, and humans dwelling out in the wilds.
They had seen change too, however. Their tents were more easily collapsible, capable of being carried by their person rather than a pack beast. Their weapons were heartier, capable of bursting through their reinforced huts and the heightened gear of the testers with ease. Singular structures, towering like grand cathedrals, sat where each sprawling but modest city used to be, surrounded by fields of greenhouses that no doubt extended deep below ground. Their exotic interiors were heated perfectly and filled with archways, bridges, terraces, and floors that seemed to grow as organically as the grasses and trees on the ground floor.
The only exception was Dryndrabethei. There was no grand cathedral-like structure dominating the land. Only a 2-kilometer tall mound of dirt and stone, some 5 kilometers in diameter, anchored into the ground via a moat of an umbral draconic alchemists-fire. A mountain stronghold inhabited by a colossal form of hermit crab. A crab that died, melded with machines and rose in undeath to become an Uma. Elijah's Zeta-Class Uma. Model: Modular Mound Crab-Crawler: Mt. Zelbus.
That was not Elijah's destination, however. Nor was it the reason I was paying so much attention to him. The city itself was no different from what it had been when I left it. Albeit cleaner.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
They landed at the gate and had their mounts parade them between the saluting undead, who boasted a surprising number of civilians gazing upon them in ways that birthed auras of gilded darkness around their frames. Within moments, it became clear to Elijah and his crew that they were no ordinary citizens, however. It was less their closeness to the undead and more the presence of the one at the end of their path. A young man who smelled of death and reeked of holiness. A gray man. In his twenties, perhaps, with skin as pale and radiant as the moon. His skin was marked with deep blue veins of circuitry around the wrists and temples in ways that made a stark contrast to the sea-green gleam in his eyes, born from the heart of arcana beating in his spiritual chest.
His hair had grown into an inky black mane that swayed majestically as he spread his arms in response to my bow. "Thou hast experienced the joys of rebirth, as hast myself. Noctis Sage. Shadowfire Emperor. And so, thou shall receive thine Umbra Emperor."
Ignoring me rolling my eyes, Zaraxus swept his hand, bringing Elijah's attention to a rotund man munching on a turkey leg with abject disinterest. He swirled his chalice in response to his cue and only stared while Elijah eyed his silken doublet, dyed the same crimson purple as his.
"The Glutton declared power and lordship his soul-bound desires. Thus, the Owl made it excessively so; both his wish and his avarice. Learned, wealthy, and cultured, is he. Imbibed with power, he is yet not. For thine glutton is still mortal. Take him, Imperator. Turn him. Therein I shall do the same."
Understanding precisely what he meant, Elijah motioned for the Glutton to follow him to the moat of black and gray liquid where a marble sarcophagus sat in wait. The drunk Glutton I made a deal with back in Shavew followed without words. At least until Elijah reached out to the arcana surrounding the exotic liquid and guided it into the coffin. Even then, however, it was only a soft "Hmm?" of curiosity as he tossed his turkey leg aside to focus on Elijah filling the vessel with fresh blood pulled from the stores of his world.
The procedure went as it did days ago in the Deep Dark. Only, it was much more foul. So much alcohol was in the Glutton's blood that Elijah staggered back just as he did. But where the Glutton fell lifelessly into a pool of blood and liquid Shadowfire, his chalice still clutched tightly in hand; Elijah arched forward and hacked at the searing pain burning through his throat while his mind swayed from the horrid taste lingering on his tongue.
He coughed and inhaled what felt like a beetle as the influx of draconian energy from his master entered him. It went in and up to the nasopharynx, where it skittered and scratched a vacuole that made his throat burn until his mouth was smoldering, smoking in between the belches of Shadowfire- Cononthoth's divine birthright.
Simultaneously, a soothingly icy feeling ran down his spine as the rest of her energy spread across his back in ways that shielded his uncouth actions from those behind him. Yet, he could not focus on those Phantom Wings. For one, he knew already the result of his evolution; and two, he was far more curious about what would emerge from the draining fluid of the sarcophagus before him.
The first thing to be seen was the Glutton's chalice, still clutched tightly in hand atop his belly. There, it remained, filled to the brim, even as the rotund vampire spawn craned his neck to slurp every drip of blood from his new bed and emerged to bow before his master- his father, Elijah.
What before was pale and bloated skin was now a tanned veil of perfection. Every blemish, scar, and pockmark was gone and his once-brown hair was now jet-black. And while his new fangs were tailored to puncturing arteries, he still couldn't help but sink his teeth into a virtually raw lamb leg taken from a nearby skeleton. He still sipped on his blood wine, even while Zaraxus took him into the darkness to meet me. Or rather, a facsimile of me.
Although there would only be a few of them, the creation process for Noctis Sages was essentially automated. There would be nothing new to gain from witnessing his evolution in person. Not even the unique branch of technology developed for the 11th Legion. Namely, because it was being shown to me in real-time.
So it was. My attention remained with Elijah as they entered Mt. Zelbus from a lift in the bottom, finding the crab's cephalothorax to be a standard military-industrial complex powered by the Blood Armament Magic given to him by Opal, infused with Cononthoth's darkness - Shadowblood Tech.
The reservoirs within the vessel were quickly filled with blood by Cerere and Finn's Lords of Industry, giving the amorphous darkness inside something with substance to aggregate into and flow through the walls. The Shadowblood majorly went inside the legs, where parts of it utilized the iron in the blood to form solid pistons, gears, levers, and other components or reform into missing panels or conduits. They were put into motion by the rest of the liquid acting as a working fluid to pump and churn in the recesses of the weapon stations, maintenance areas, docking bays, and similar posts, soon helmed by Siv and Leontios' Lords of War.
By then, Civil Chief Aglaia was ascending into the Uma to bring those chosen by Zaraxus and the Glutton into the abdomen with Tiplux and Muirgen's Lords of Law, where they delved into the work required to turn Shujen into a place of order beneath the nose of Matron Etyl Za'Darmondiel. Once done, the Civil Chief joined them in the space beneath the Uma's eyes, where Raginhard and Aquila's Lords of Commerce focused on the recreational needs of the Legion and the lands in which they were stationed.
Their CIC was an oval room composed of a shallow pit filled with iron sand. Surrounding it were eight pairs of plush inverted thrones with machinations that ran deep into the crab's carapace and deeper into its mountainous shell. Their frames of black stone were pierced, pieced together, and powered by their Shadowblood Technology like everything else, connecting them to everything in their domain. Connecting Elijah to a tap that released and mixed the blood in his body with the draconian darkness in his spirit wholly.
Into the pipes and chambers above his seat, it flowed, coursing through the metallic veins and arteries stretching through the carapace of his Undying Machine Animal and erupting through the mountain stone that was its shell. Closing his eyes, he listened to the soothing sound of a heartbeat thumping gently. Softly, yet with purpose. Pulses reverberated throughout the space, opening the red and gold eyes above them to illuminate the chamber. Bangs, clanks, and thunks bounced through the body of the Uma as its legs kicked to life with a deep groan. Hisses and moans preceded the aromatic scent of blood entering their noses before it flowed into the pit they surrounded, signaling Nigel's voice to ring their ears and silence the many processes going on in the background.
"All systems online," said the 11th Prime Lore Skull, Nigel. "Welcome home, Lordlings. And please be reintroduced to the Glutton. Or, as Master Zaraxus crowned him before the denizens of Shujen, King Darden Surela."
While he looked the same, every Lordling present could feel the same arcane heart pumping in his chest as the one held by Zaraxus. So too could they feel the Twilight melded with the wickedness in him, forming the building blocks for the ArcaTech's Essence to build a foundation out of and later, for Wilson to construct something on top of.
Their technology was made into an ability- a mutation to the flesh and bone that came as a crate of bottles held out by the Glutton. "Courtesy of your sponsor, the Eldritch Engineer."
It tasted the same as the blood grown on the vineyards of his world, Nocturne, and now here; albeit with an inky taste that seemed to nestle in the roof of his mouth and permeate the tissue within. Then he felt it, the power of blood-stained darkness. The iron within his stockpiled blood flowed into his muscles and nerves, forming them into thick bundles of corded fibers and piped networks of anti-optic fibers. The same darkness within those fibers flowed through his mind in a way similar to the neural network of an augmented being. It flowed into his very genes, changing his cells to adopt several attributes on the macroscale; all powered and enriched by the blood on which he feasted.
It was a grand ability. An ability gifted only to the Primes of his Legion and those who would one day enter the 11th Legion's black ops unit, the Royals. But that was to be observed another day, and what was witnessed just now was only the play before the work.
The moment the orders were sent, Elijah had a thought that saw the pit below them spread a bloodied mist above its surface, wherein it reformed into the trees, huts, tents, buildings, and cathedral-like structures spread across Shujen. Filling them all and spreading more about them were figurines of iron dust animated by the beating heart of his home. In tandem with the actions of those above, they moved and went about their lives. Unknowing of the fact that while change was constant, its rate fluctuates; and such fluctuations had already begun in Shujen.
Another thought saw the map reform with a focus on their position, where their Uma was shown to split at the spires and disperse to the cardinal directions to occupy the underground of the counties and territories surrounding my path and El-Did county.
The exception was Kariril Territory, in the central stretch of the Nevstan border. It began just a few dozen kilometers to the southeast of Dryndrabethei and thus would be assimilated into the Glutton's territory- Alerus County. There, they would do as they were ordered. They would recruit, train, and educate the leaders of their future battalions, companies, platoons, and squads to operate- to govern their areas of operation from the shadows; further influencing the people of Shujen to seek undeath rather than having them be comfortable with their rule. Simultaneously, they would begin working to install, fill, and form Warp Points, Legion Lairs, Noctis Caches, and Spatial Safe Houses while the rest of the Purveyors of Gloom were to get to work preparing for their delve into Shujen's Darkworld.
As was above, so was below.
"Gloom shall see Zimysta's Fall; heralded, witnessed, and thus documented by the Black Plume. That much is written." The reborn Glutton declared. "Though there is much to learn still. So come, Lords, let us learn."