[Welcome to the Weaver’s Nest]
“Dilah’ec, did you just create a Shelter here?” John asked, gawking at the pristine pillar before him.
“I did,” She grinned. “Now, if you’d be so kind?”
Caught wholly off guard, John was unable to follow her thought and only dumbly stared at her outstretched hand. “Uhh… what?”
“The promotion card,” she giggled, giddy with excitement, “let me use it, so we can kick this thing off.”
“The… oh right.”
Dilah’ec tugged it away from his hand the moment he pulled it from his deck and a moment later, John watched it crumble into blue sparks which merged with the white pillar, coloring it vivid blue.
[Attention!
An Aerilian Shelter called Weaver’s Nest has begun its promotion to Bastion.
All other Shelters inside its area of influence have six hours to pledge fealty or declare war against Dilah’ec, and all shelters under her control.
As an owner of a Citadel with its seat of power outside of the Weaver’s Nest’s influence, you are expected to follow its laws or risk getting blacklisted, losing access to its System-provided buildings, and being marked when inside any of its Shelters.
Time remaining until full promotion: 5:59:57]
Having a few seconds to take it all in, John observed their new base of operations. Looking around, he noticed that the Shelter’s formation kicked all undead out, flattened the plateau into a uniform ground, and raised a circular gray wall with three gates in a triangular pattern.
Walking toward the gate facing the town, he jumped and easily pulled himself on top of it.
Between the Shelter and the town were thousands of zombies, filling the outskirts like ants.
That’s why she picked the plateau, he realized.
The extra three feet of elevation, coupled with the ten from the wall, offered up a perfect angle in case of a desperate attack. Another point in their favor was the timing. The sky was slowly coloring orange as the sun began its journey over the horizon, and the visibility was rapidly dropping as the day turned into night.
“Do you think they’ll attack?” John asked, leaning on the railing above the gate.
“They might try, but I don’t believe they will make it through fast enough,” Galan’il shook his head. “Not unless they decide to rush it and put their lives at risk.”
Since there was no way to hide their position, not with the enormous blue beam shining high into the sky, it was inevitable to be discovered. At least his Noctrowl’s sense gave him slightly more powerful dark vision, letting him notice the first signs of the survivor’s activity twenty minutes in.
There were two dozen people with more trailing in every other minute, slowly dividing into three independent clumps of activity.
By then, the sun was fully set and the only source of light was a small sliver of moon, low in the sky.
As another thirty minutes went by, the groups increased into roughly five dozen each, but from the people walking between them, it appeared that there were differences in opinions on how to handle their current predicament. John guessed that after the failed ambush, the survivors from the fourth Shelter decided not to participate at all.
After another ten minutes of back and forth, the groups began moving.
What are they doing? John wondered, looking as one group went further to the right and another further to the left.
Are they not going to work together?
The third remained behind, leaving the other two on their own.
Where John, Galan’il, and Dilah’ec were able to carve through the opposing throng of undead like a hot knife through butter, the sixty-some groups had a far worse time at it. Not only were their numbers working against them, pulling the zombie and wandering packs of Rothounds from all sides, but also their significantly weaker members were struggling to keep the momentum.
“So, how are they progressing?” Asked Dilah’ec from behind him when another hour went by.
“The left group is roughly a third of the way through,” John answered, watching his javelin arc through the sky and miss a tree four hundred feet in the distance.
Damn.
That was how he enjoyed himself during his watch on the wall.
“And the other one?”
“They stopped moving ten minutes ago. Since then, they secured their location and remained there.”
“Good, let us know when they cross the second third.”
“Mhm,” John promised, already eyeing the tree in the distance.
This time I’ll get it right, he grinned, looking at one of the apple trees lining the main road in the distance to the right.
His javelin rematerialized in his outstretched hand, and he leaned back and took aim.
Just about… There!
Letting it fly, he eagerly observed its trajectory through the air.
C’mon! C’mon!
“Yes!” He cheered, seeing it blow out a chunk of wood from its trunk.
“Hm? Everything alright?” Galan’il asked from behind, stopping his own sparring session with Dilah’ec.
“Oh yeah, sorry. Just celebrating my throw,” John chuckled.
As the minutes flew by, he noticed a new development. The right group began retreating to the town and in another half hour, the left group also gave up and turned back.
“It looks like you were right, Galan’il. They gave up and are returning to the town.”
“They might try something tomorrow morning, but by then it’ll be too late.” Galan’il agreed. “I’m going to take a bath in the inn.”
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“You know what, let me take over and get some rest as well,” Dilah’ec offered. “You’ve been through more than enough today.”
“I can…” he was about to refuse her, but after a moment of thought he nodded instead. “You are right, I could use some rest. Thank you.”
I should remain here in case of an emergency, he noted, deciding not to enter his own Citadel.
Jumping down, he smiled at Dilah’ec as they passed each other and headed to the only System building in this Shelter, the Desperate Fool’s Inn.
“Welcome, Sir,” a youthful girl with short-cropped red hair greeted him. “What can I do for you today?”
“Can I have a room for one night?”
“Certainly. Let’s see…” roaming her eyes over an invisible screen, she soon nodded and smiled. “First floor, second door to the left. Anything else? Perhaps a hot meal or some light desert?”
“No, that would be all. Thanks.” John briefly touched the yellow gem to send the payment and turned toward the stairs.
The inside of the inn was the exact replica of the non-upgraded version from his Shelter, so finding his room was quite simple.
Huh, even the room decorations are the same, he noted and began stripping his robe.
Wait, what am I doing…
Sending all his clothes into the storage with a simple flex of his will, he laughed and dipped into the steaming water in the prepared bath.
“Ahh,” he sighed, feeling his muscles relax.
Leaning his head back onto the wooden rim of the bathtub, he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.
A loud banging made him jolt out of his sleep and look around in confusion.
“Wha… huh?”
“John? The promotion is finished and Dilah’ec is going to open the portal to the Silverstar Enclave. Are you going with us?”
Did I fall asleep in my bath?
“Uhh, yes. Give me a moment, I’ll be down in a minute.”
The water was still steaming, but his Vitality removed any discomfort, leaving only a pleasant feeling of cozy herbal warmth.
“Oh well,” he threw a longing glance at the heavenly bath and stood up.
Drying himself with a prepared towel, he summoned his garments and headed downstairs.
“How long was I out?” He asked the pair sitting at the nearest table and eating a bunch of exotic fruits from a large glass bowl.
“A little over five hours,” answered Galan’il. “The promotion finished two hours ago, but Dilah’ec told me to let you get more sleep. Also, when we visit the Silverstar Enclave, don’t forget to take a challenge from the board. It’s a couple of thousand ash for each of us.”
“Good idea. I’ll keep that in mind,” John promised. “By the way, how does the teleportation network operate?”
“I’ll explain as we go,” Dilah’ec nodded, picking up a pear-shaped purple fruit and standing up. “First, each Bastion selects to be visible or invisible in the Territory’s network, and then you request access between them. Since both this one and the Silverstar Enclave are invisible, we need to know a special access code to issue the request. Luckily, His Highness planned for this and gave me both the code and the necessary ash to construct the building immediately after we secured a Bastion.”
Leaving the inn together, they headed toward the familiar ball of swirling lights held above ground by a couple of black pillars.
Knowing what to expect because he visited his Astragoratius Mechatius many times during the triangulation of the Territory Hierarch’s Arena, John confidently walked into the bubble’s surface and let the suction pull him inside.
When he reopened his eyes, he stood in the colossal space with the Earth’s miniature fixed in its middle, high above his head.
“I want to initiate a connection between the Weaver’s Nest and the Silverstar Enclave.” He heard Dilah’ec speak out somewhere to his left.
“Of course, my lady,” answered a gentle voice with a distinct elderly quality. “And the access code?”
“Three, seven, seven, nine, one.”
“Splendid. I’ve issued the request and will let you know if the Silver Enclave’s leader accepts or declines your… It seems your request was accepted.” The older woman with ashen-gray hair tied in a small bun closed her eyes and with an uplifting gesture summoned an eight feet tall circular gate, swirling with energy. “The gate will be fully charged in ten minutes.”
To pass the time, John played with the massive globe above their head, turning it around until he located the town his parents and younger sister were living in.
Just a few more days, he promised himself. A few more days until I’ll…
“Let’s go, the gateway is ready.” Dilah’ec pulled him out of his thoughts and stepped through.
To John’s surprise, they didn’t arrive at the Astragoratius Mechatius, but inside a large room with gray walls and over two dozen guards standing at attention around their position.
“Where are we?” He asked, looking around.
“This is a Teleportation Hub,” Prince Melis’ar explained, standing next to Duraq’er on the far end of the room. “Here, you can select any approved connection and open the gate without the need for the servants of the Rograr the Magnificent.”
“Ahh, that is convenient,” John agreed. “Also, it seems far more defensible in case of an unexpected betrayal.”
“It is. Now, what about your venture? Were you successful locating the Hierarch?”
“Throwing Dilah’ec a hopeful glance, John sighed in relief when he noticed her moving closer.”
“We located the Hierarch’s Colosseum earlier today and secured a Bastion at the nearest town,” she took over. “However, there were some complications with the…”
Letting her handle the talks, John excused himself and prepared to head toward the challenge board.
“I’ll grab a mission from the board and return to the Weaver’s Nest,” he informed Duraq’er, who was silently watching over them. “She has it all covered.”
“Wait, we need you to describe the encounter with the Hierarch,” Dilah’ec stopped him from running away.
“Encounter with the Hierarch?” Melis’ar questioned with confusion in his voice. “Are you trying to imply, that…” His eyes widened in shock, but then his face became clouded with worry. “John, did you really defeat the Territory Hierarch by yourself?”
“I did, why? Is there a problem?”
“It depends,” he looked at Dilah’ec. “Did you try to convince or push him into doing it?”
“No, it was fully his decision, and we had nothing to do with it,” she refuted.
“What am I missing?” John asked sharply, making his displeasure at being kept in the dark known in his voice.
“You see, there is an agreement between all invading forces that no one except a select few are permitted to challenge the Territory Hierarch to a solo battle in the first two weeks of the invasion.” Melis’ar explained. “Those privileged few are the scions or chosen from the most powerful factions in the wider universe, and they are the only ones expected to compete for the first three spots. The same rule is for the Dominion Archon where the time window is of two months.”
“And what happens when someone breaks the agreement?”
“Depends,” Melis’ar chuckled. “Most tend to fail and get themselves killed in the process. The few who succeed are hunted down and killed regardless of their disposition or alliances and their faction is punished with heavy sanctions to serve as an example to any others who would consider breaking it.”
“Luckily for both of us, you are not part of my faction, and this agreement does not cover the natives who decide to complete this feat on their own.” Melis’ar grinned. “Now, let’s talk about the encounter itself. How did you do it and do you have any suggestions for how we can repeat it together?”
“Well, I began with…”
The conversation morphed into a vivid discussion among all present. They listened in morbid curiosity as John described how he flooded the entire Colosseum and literally drowned his enemies in blood.
“…and that’s what I believe is our best strategy.” John finished with both the fight and the offered options for the Hierarch’s surrender.
“This is very valuable information, John,” Melis’ar thanked him for his incredible contribution. “Knowing about the Insurmountable odds, Sovereign’s Decree, and the Minion’s Instability beforehand will help us prepare a much better strategy for the encounter. Take these as a token of my appreciation, because your information most likely just saved more than one of my people’s lives.” He summoned a larger pile of yellow ash into his open hand.
“Thank you,” John offered a small bow after taking it into his hand.
Fifty yellows was a significant bump to his disposable funds.
“Duraq’er, select twenty squads to go with us into Weaver’s Nest,” the Prince declared. “We need to secure our new Bastion before we move against the Territory Hierarch.”