That night, it seemed like the sky above the entire Wildlands wept.

Jyulem Tyre’s socks were soaked through from the long walk down to the lower-city. He was so miserable he hadn’t even ordered a drink from the bearded tavern keeper after he stomped indoors. He looked out the window and for a second imagined a happy ending for the night. Then his expression crumpled. No… even if I stop by later, she won’t unlock the door. She hates the rain.

He was a man who lived by rules. Measure twice, cut once. When you reach for a doorknob and miss, wait a few minutes before you try again. Never assume you know better than a new acquaintance. Only deal with those who demonstrate respect and decency.

But serving as the Lord Protectorate of Irkan made it difficult to follow all his rules. He couldn’t afford to be too picky with whom he associated.

Jyulem tried to focus on the task at hand; a meeting that started off on the wrong foot wouldn’t suddenly learn to dance. So he could only clench his jaw and suffer through. He would be professional, cool, and adhere strictly to the line of civility.

“I’m sure you can appreciate that this is an issue that the Church of the Golden Rays wishes to be resolved discretely,” Ethor Vyrnbrussen had the eyes of a dead fish as he looked at Jyulem. The tavern around them was completely deserted, those few regulars driven out by a sharp look from the imposing Vyrnbrussen when he had walked in, fifteen minutes late.

Nowhere in this man’s strong features could Jyulem find hints of the heroic spirit that earned Vyrnbrussen the nickname Paladin of the Brilliant Dawn. “We have done our research on you, following your subordinates’ involvement in such a… hiccup. Obviously, we were delighted to hear about your very punctual, albeit small, donations to expanding the Golden Rays over the years. More worrying, however… is that you’ve also made similar gifts to the Church of the Verdant Grove and also to the Church of the Endless Sea.”

Yea well, you aren't the only whining religious baby flopping around in my city…

In terms of influence, for now, Jyulem possessed more than Vyrnbrussen. He served as head of the Adventurer’s Guild for the entire Frontier. And as was tradition, he served as Lord Protectorate of Irkan, giving him purview over the trade with frontier tribes bringing materials from the Wildlands. Offending Jyulem to the point of desperate action would have disastrous consequences for the Church of the Golden Rays.

Yet one truth hung between them: Vyrnbrussen had completed his Tier IV Advancement Quest and Jyulem had not. Unlike monsters who could evolve freely when they reached the requisite Level, the System required humanity to demonstrate the sort of Class they wished to obtain via a quest.

Jyulem summoned the familiar notification, just to check it remained.

Tier IV (Level 50) Advancement Quest: Rule and Protect a Sizeable Human Settlement (Over 50,000 lives) for 5 Years.

Time Remaining: 7 Months, 22 days, 4 hours, 3 minutes.

Just a little bit longer. Jyulem growled inwardly. When you reached Level 49, several options for quests were presented to you, depending on the Achievements you had earned. This one he had selected because not only was it a relatively stable requirement, but also…

He had never heard of a quest requiring five years to complete. And the more difficult the quest, the better the Class would be received upon completion.

The flat look he received told him that Vyrnbrussen had noticed his wandering attention. Despite the fact he sat opposite the rising hero of one of the five Churches, Jyulem couldn’t help but focus on the man's glassy eyes; the paladin reminded him of the trophy monster heads he kept in his office (He was still irked Vyrnbrussen had refused to meet at the Adventurer’s Guild Headquarters). The expression was soulless, just as much of the vague sense that there had once been bloodlust here, but it had been forcibly extinguished.

Should have just ordered an ale before he showed up… but also, bad karma to drink alone…

“As the head of the Adventurer’s Guild for the Frontier area, I’m sure you can appreciate that I don’t want to appear partial.” Jyulem tried.

“We wished you were. More partial, that is, considering the circumstances.” Vyrnbrussen said. “After all, we are not asking for you to completely ignore this matter. I too, can appreciate administrative minutia. A report has to be made since the Adventurer’s Guild was mobilized. However… the size of the non-Adventurers involved as well as the number of enemy human combatants should be… less meticulously recorded.”

“That…” Jyulem almost felt suspicious at this reasonable request.

Vyrnbrussen pulled out a coin pouch that bulged to contain its metal contents. Even when he lowered it gently onto the sticky wood of the table, it clinked. “Obviously, such a sizable necromancer’s tower possessed a great deal of valuables. This is the Adventurer’s Guild’s share of the recovered loot.”

New rule. When you know the threat is coming next… just accept the bribe, Jyulem decided. He understood the shape of the other half of this, as well.

The Church of the Golden Rays wanted the record of the event to be minimized. They wanted everyone to regurgitate their version of the story. If Jyulem refused to comply… they would maximize instead of minimize. Which would reflect poorly on him.

With only seven months to go, he felt very vulnerable in his stewardship of Irkan. Certain factions of the Senate would salivate at the prospect of appointing a nephew as head of Irkan and taking a bigger cut of the trade that flowed through the city. The only reason he hadn’t been replaced was Jyulem’s spotless record and fair dealings with all sides, even the enemies of the Royalist faction.

Tyre sucked on his teeth. Did they have suspicions the city was related to his promotion quest…?

Not that the System would only give you a single method. There were technically infinite advancement possibilities: the main quest, the alternate quest, and a series of ‘failures’ of the two quests that would give various rewards. Jyulem Tyre did not want to advance as a failure, and the alternate promotion conditions were a bit-

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Tier IV (Level 50) Alternate Advancement: Declare yourself a Monarch. Have a moderate population (25,000 Lives) consider themselves your citizens.

Just no. Doesn’t that sound like… an Usurper line Quest? Not on my life.

Jyulem rolled his current options over in his mind. Considering how many church affiliates would swear there were more than a dozen necromancers gathered up in an area over which Jyulem had responsibility… the discourse could easily turn to why such a large amount of necromancers, and the corrosive blight they generated just by exercising their necrotic powers, could set up shop.

It would be a huge, rot-smelling pile of shit dumped on his spotless record.

Jyulem took the pouch of money. He resisted the urge to dump it out and count the gleaming sovereigns. “Many thanks. Indeed, most of the foes were altered monsters. Sir Paladin’s estimates are undoubtedly correct.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.” Vyrnbrussen smiled, but it was a mechanical display, not one that contained any joy. His lips moved, his teeth were briefly shown, and then he returned to his previous slack look. If he wasn’t required to do so, Jyulem would not bother with this sweaty creature. “At the same time… and this is just a personal request, hopefully, you will be more partial in your donations in the future.”

Jyulem felt his lips twitch. Are you requesting I give you back some of the bribe?

Without a further word or expression, the Paladin left the tavern.

He didn’t bother to close the door, allowing the wind to blow in several sheets of rain before the elements slammed the door.

Jyulem blew a loud raspberry into his forearm. Then he tried to busy himself with counting the money in the pouch. His eyes bulged as he realized a few platinum coins, punctuated with a glittering diamond core, had been slipped into the sack amongst the gold ones. The aging bartender spared a single glance for the contents of the table and then, having lived a long time in the Frontier city of Irkan, went to busy himself in the back.

Tsk, I guess they can afford it, but it bodes ill the Churches are willing to throw around this much dosh on the Frontier…

Shit, just seven more months… With winter coming… I’ve almost made it. Being a Level 49 Monster Raidleader is nice, but finally passing to Level 50…

The tavern door swung open and his second, Kamaedra waltzed through the door like a water-logged rat riding a wave of delicious trash from the rich part of town. Each limb glittered with her signature hatchets, ensorcelled to repel water and resist rust. The dwarf woman smirked at him, her hair sticking up in every direction. “So?”

“You appear to have misremembered the amount of necromancers you were forced to kill while assisting the charming Paladin,” Jyulem said. “Undoubtedly, you just became so excited all the throbbing bodies began to blend together.”

“Hmm.” Kamaedra frowned. “Tyre, I know-”

Jyulem sent her a sharp glance, then his gaze flicked to the coins in front of her. A rule he didn’t often vocalize was you should only bother recruiting subordinates who were more capable than you were. Blue mana glittered across the Level 67 Hatchet Slayer’s eyes. The curl of her lip was enough to indicate that the bribe was indeed enchanted, likely with listening spells.

To fill the silence, Jyulem said. “This isn’t a simple matter. The fact that even the Church of the Grey Dusk has remained silent… well, it’s better to leave it at this.”

The dwarf nodded and pivoted on her heel. Jyulem rolled his eyes. New rule. Sometimes dwarves nod in agreement, even when they have no intention of listening to what you said.

Let’s just hope… it doesn’t get Kamaedra killed.

*****

A duck with a thick caking of mud up and down its neck tottered down the shoreline. Despite the heavy rain that night, the mud didn’t show any signs of dissolving. Yet the duck’s mood was complex.

After five hundred years of remaining sealed, the local river Kami had been freed.

Once it determined that no living creatures existed nearby, it began to shake. A bit of its might manifested. The thick mud around its neck cracked and shattered as the last few bindings fell away. From that bulging clot of mud, two other duck heads stretched out. The three-headed duck waded out into the river, washed the remnants of mud off of its neck, then swam back to shore.

The left head spoke immediately. “We must return and slay those horrors. They contain a pinch of blight.”

“The lavender one saved us. The blight somehow invalidated our bindings.” The right head countered. “A debt is owed.”

“We will move with mercy. Its death will be painless.”

“We owe more than that. For your sharp beak, we were sentenced to a thousand years of our only words being mud. Five hundred years, spared! We owe much. In addition, are we not now the only Kami liberated?”

The left head hesitated. “Perhaps this freedom will not benefit us. Should the Black Hunt ride-”

“Our fearless overlord yet sleeps.” For the first time, the central head spoke. “May it always be so.”

“May it always be so.”

“May it always be so.”

After a moment of silent study of the sky, the central head spoke again. “Those human gods take small bites of the fearless overlord’s domain. They would not allow their progeny to spread if she neared waking.”

“Keh, is not the land of that dumb snake now a human settlement?” The right head chuckled. “A failed Kami. Bound and silent, just like us, but I bet she is fuming to have humans shitting all over her land.”

“Will not these horrors do the same, if we do not eliminate them?” Unable to let things go, the Left Head returned to the original topic.

“But the debt-”

“Can a Kami exist, if we are corroded by blight?”

Both side heads looked to the central head, who appeared as thoughtful as a duck could. Its beady eyes flashed. “...it is unknown. Necromancy originates in humans and their false gods. We are of the fearless overlord and the mantle she has claimed. However, a debt is definitely owed to the lavender horror and its companions. For now… we observe.”

The side heads nodded. As one, all three heads exhaled. Their avatar and the whole of their body had been bound in that vicious court held five centuries ago, but with the avatar freed so too opened up the shackles imposed on the land. Life seeped out with their breath and sank into the ground. In the area to which they were Kami, energy radiated out through the ground and into the water.

Soon, the plants grew a bit faster, flourished in fruit and flower, spreading high and wide with a Kami’s return. Gradually, as they lived here and drank of the land, the many fauna in the area would also benefit.

For a Kami, their true body was the land tied to them. The return of a Kami’s breath would bring many changes to the environment.

The three heads watched as the hidden ceiling imposed on monster Levels began to dissipate. And they understood that the energy release would seep out into the surrounding lands, while the Kami of those places remained sealed. That energy would corrode their seals and soon their fellows would return to the world.

The ripples of such events would radiate outward. Perhaps the human gods would notice and come calling. Gently, of course, because if too many ripples radiated in the opposite direction…

The three-headed Kami turned to the Southeast, to the center of everything. To the cherry grove where the fearless overlord slept, dreaming of a world that always needed to be saved. The Kami’s heart ached, knowing that underneath a blanket of dead cherry blossom petals was a black sword that had cut an entire aspect from the world.

And would again, should upheaval unravel her slumber.

Despite the danger, the Kami simply watched as details accumulated and the inexorable momentum of Fate began to gather up steam. Time pushed them all into the future. Because life moved in cycles.

And now, the cycle began again.