Two million weapons and sets of armor?! What a joke. Even with the new formations I made, that would take years! This guy’s clearly trying to piss me off. I refuse to let all of my efforts to rope in the Forkara fall apart so quickly. I’ve still got the upper hand. They have to realize that if they don’t join my side now, they'll only become more disadvantaged in the future.

Jiran glanced at the four elders of the Rising Sky Faction. They gave him subtle nods and as one, flew over to hover beside him. Keara and her twin trailed behind, their faces set with determined scowls. Surprisingly, three of the neutral elders joined Jiran as well, bringing their total number to nine. Behind the Eldest, only five remained.

An elderly female who had joined them bowed respectfully, “Eldest Unspeakable, while we appreciate your offer to negotiate on our behalf, we have no desire to antagonize Senior Brother Guardian. Please, forgive our insolence.”

“Hah! Great, perfect, wonderful!” Eldest looked over his shoulder at the few remaining neutral elders, “So, it’s only these few who are unwilling? Think carefully little ones, what do you stand to gain or lose from remaining idle?”

“I-I don’t understand, Eldest Unspeakable. You’ve never taken sides in political matters before. Why now?” Prekkahn pleaded.

Eldest scoffed, shaking his head derisively, “Isn’t it obvious? No?” He turned back to Jiran, his tone turning polite, “Well, little stranger, you haven’t responded to my offer yet. What’s it going to be?”

What’s he trying to do? I can’t tell if he wants to help or not. His reactions are all over the place too. Is he… low on willpower?

Jiran clicked his tongue, “Obviously, the answer is no. Why would I make two million powerful weapons for those I can’t trust?”

“That’s the nature of compromise. Only when both parties walk away disgruntled can you be assured there was an equal exchange,” Eldest proclaimed with a sly smile.

“What you’re offering isn’t nearly equivalent,” Jiran held up his hand and counted his fingers, “I’m supposed to provide assistance with your ascensions to tier eight, information on how to safely hunt in the Land of the Lost, two million sets of equipment, trade goods from my home, and you want me to allow the ones who clearly have ill intentions toward me to live. Meanwhile, you’re offering a cease to hostilities, which would come one way or another, and a handful of your forces for two weeks? That’s a joke.”

Eldest raised his palms and shrugged, “Yet, it is what it is. I won’t allow a deal that doesn’t include the equipment. If you find my terms disproportionate, then by all means, tell us how we can accommodate you.”

Fine, you want to make ridiculous requests, two can play at that game!

“Give me complete authority over sixty percent of your warriors for a thousand years and I’ll agree.”

“Okay,” His response was anticlimactic as if the request wasn’t an issue in the least.

“What?!” Jiran and each of the elders exclaimed in unison.

Eldest laughed at the sight of jaws dropping. Prekkahn’s entire body was trembling as he whipped around with a horrified expression, “Eldest, what's the meaning of this? How can you agree to such a thing, surely there is a misunderstanding. Did you not hear him correctly?”

“I heard him perfectly and I couldn't be more thrilled at his demand. It's you, Prekkahn, who isn't hearing nor thinking correctly!”

“No, no, I d-don’t—”

“Shut up and listen! All of you! Do you not see the significance of what's happening before your own eyes?!” Eldest Unspeakable roared and the sudden shout released a shockwave of force that caused everyone to raise their guards. He pointed to the pile of tier seven beasts near the forest’s edge, “Look! Look at them! What we couldn't do for centuries, he's done in a single morning.”

He does seem a little unhinged, though not nearly as far gone as Markhiss.

They cast their gazes down at the neatly stacked corpses. Dokkuun and the rest of those who sided with Jiran nodded in agreement. Eldest Unspeakable’s breaths calmed and his tone turned measured, “You can feel his mana's concentration, he’s between tier five and six. Do I really have to spell it out for you? He's a monster and he's nowhere near his peak, unlike me. If you ever want to push forward in this life or create a grander future for your hatchlings, your one and only chance is right here before you yet you're squabbling like fools. And Prekkahn, you're the worst you fucking worm! If you thought about it for five seconds you would realize that our forces at his side for a thousand years will turn into a raging tempest that sweeps across the world.”

“B-but he’ll kill us. He wants to devour our clans! How can we trust anything he says?”

Eldest once more grew enraged, his muscles bulging and his wings flapping erratically, “You're still harboring a grudge?! I'll rip off your fucking head with my bare hands if it means attaching our people to him. So what if he takes over? Is it better to soar through the heavens with a new leader, or continue to flail with clipped wings?” The elders fell silent and even Prekkahn turned introspective, his face twisted as though he were in pain.

Well, that was unexpected. He’s a challenger, if he wanted to help his people ascend, why didn’t he do it himself? Even if he is low on willpower, he should have been able to teach his methods that allowed him to fight up tiers. He mentioned reaching his peak, I wonder what happened in his past to bring him to this point.

When no one spoke for several seconds, Eldest continued, shaking his head sadly, “I can't save you, I can't do it. I'm… a coward. I'm nothing compared to him so how can you respect my strength yet spurn his? Don’t look to me in the future if you throw away this opportunity. I'm done with the lot of you, if you can’t see this opportunity for what it is and seize it, then you don’t deserve to live, let alone lead.”

He’s no different than the Mother Timberling. He must have been watching me for a while, and after hearing my plans to only borrow their troops for a week, he made an appearance to corner me into tying myself to his race.

The framework quivered as the tension within each aura spiked. After several long seconds, two more elders moved to join Jiran, leaving only the two beside Prekkahn, whose eyes still shone defiantly, “How can we join him? He’ll kill us no matter what we do!”

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Is this the famous sunken cost fallacy? That guy just doesn’t know when to fold. But I don’t have a lot of time, certainly not enough to take over their clans after killing them. One last try to get them on my side peacefully; if that doesn’t work, I’ll just kill them and deal with their clans after confronting the Graymin.

“Keara, does your clan have records of everyone who's participated in murdering the Timberlings?” Jiran's sudden question caused several of the elders beside him to twitch nervously.

“Yes, of course, Senior Brother Guardian. Much of the clan's wealth is tied to those contracts so they are quite secure and accurate.”

Jiran nodded, “Great, in that case, I'll want the names of every single living Forkara on those agreements. If they willingly join the forces under my command and manage to kill one hundred equal-tiered beasts within a year, I'll pardon their crimes. Otherwise, I'll end them myself.”

“This… this is acceptable to my Feathers Descent Clan,” One of the two beside Prekkahn bowed deeply before moving to join Jiran.

Prekkahn’s final supporter hummed thoughtfully, “Do you swear to not command us to partake in missions with no hope of survival?”

“I do,” Jiran nodded in agreement to his request.

“Then, I gladly agree. Thank you for your benevolence, Senior Brother Guardian,” The last elder bowed as well before following his companion to Jiran's side.

Without a single ally remaining beside him, Prekkahn prostrated himself in the air and spoke around the lump in his throat, “Thank you for your benevolence, Senior Brother Guardian. My Raging Storm Hollow Peak Clan is at your command.”

These guys definitely aren't done causing trouble. What a pain in the ass. Whatever, three more tier sevens on the front lines is significant and if I'm lucky, they’ll get themselves killed quickly. I can only hope they change their minds after I don’t make a move to take over their clans.

Jiran chuckled at the unlikeliness of his thought becoming reality, especially considering the three had yet to increase their affinity. The notifications in his interface indicated that every other elder had risen from Wary and Scorn to Indifferent, showing they no longer viewed him as a threat. Even Eldest Unspeakable was now Trusting and Jiran finally relaxed his guard with a subtle sigh.

Eldest watched him with calculating eyes, his expression shifting between emotions rapidly, “Since the unification of the leading clans has been resolved, there’s no reason for me to wriggle in any longer.” With those parting words, the mysterious challenger prepared to fly away with a single, powerful flap of his wings, only for his momentum to be slammed to a halt as Jiran’s aura wrapped around his leg.

“Did I say you could leave? After coming here and disrupting my plans, did you really think I would let you go without answering any of my questions?” Jiran’s eyes lit up like miniature suns as Mana Omnis blared at full blast.

Pre-dawn, East of the Fortress City Melathon

“Morit! Get back to work you lazy, two-toed bastard!” Captain Sinclair shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. His mana-laden voice boomed, causing a thousand soldiers to flinch. Each of them sprang into action, their monotonous movements renewed with fresh zeal. Sand and dirt flew through the air as shovels blurred. Sweat ran like rivers despite the biting chill of the desert night. Dawn was approaching, and with it, the battle that would decide the fate of the empire.

City walls were barely visible in the distance behind them. As the Captain looked back to gauge their progress, he noted the most prominent slave owner of the northern cities—Dee-raun. The massive man and his numerous slaves were working with the engineering corps, glassing the sand within the trench and reinforcing it with Forming. Once reinforced, the soldiers would have steady footing on their side of the defenses. The ditch they were digging was just one wing of a giant V formation with the city at its center. They had been ordered to angle north toward the nearest mountain and to stop well short of it.

“Why are we stopping so far from the mountain? Won’t that give the Graymin a way past us? No matter how many times I think about it, I can’t understand the princess’s command.

“How would I know? Do I look like a princess to you?” Both men shuddered, remembering the visage of the once beautiful woman; her skin completely burned away while walking out of a wall of flames that would have melted either of them instantly. As they were pondering, a cliff face high up the mountain broke free, sending a wave of rubble cascading down like a waterfall.

“Enough gawking! Get back to work!” Sinclair shouted. He could see the signs clearly: shifting grains of sand rustled as more rocks broke free from the mountain—the result of vibrations from millions upon millions of bestial feet drawing ever closer.

“Dig! Dig you pitted bastards or you won’t even live long enough to remember the touch of a woman!”

Oliviala Le’Cruex

Olive sat in an uncomfortable chair in a temporary command post on top of the city wall. Between hastily distributed commands, she sent occasional glances at the two trenches leading northeast and northwest.

“Send two units of fresh fellets to assist the transportation teams. We need that lumber here an hour ago!” A tier five courier offered a hasty salute before flying away.

The next soldier in the queue of twelve stepped forward, instantly speaking, “Scout unit seven reporting, Commander!” Olive nodded for him to continue while she furiously wrote an order to increase the pay of the slaver mercenaries who were making such good progress behind her diggers. “Ma’am! The initial wave of four million is an hour out. There were no sightings above tier five.”

“Thank you, Darthel, I want another report in thirty minutes.” The man smacked his chest and leaped from the wall, riding his aura straight north.

“General Reifvus,” The man stepped forward and saluted, a fresh bandage wrapped around his head covering one eye was the only remaining indication of their duel. “Take every tier five under your command to engage the first wave, I need you to buy us half an hour. Use as much mana as needed, no casualties. Take those three parties of tier six mercenaries with you, they are only to engage to prevent deaths and assist with your retreat. If even one person dies, this will be the last command I give you, understood?”

The man gritted his teeth and saluted again, “Understood, Commander!”

“Next!” Olive shouted, already writing another order.

Mayalyn Aloyhee

The pattering of running feet rang throughout the cavern as the People dashed in every direction. They gathered supplies, prepared their equipment, and said goodbye to loved ones who would not be taking part in the battle. Mayalyn knew each and every one of them. From her experiences against the Graymin, she now realized how tiny and vulnerable her community was.

She also understood that despite being few in number, their impact on the coming life and death struggle shouldn’t be underestimated. She wasn’t sure how strong they would be once they joined forces with the empire. But she did know what she and Jiran could do together, and thinking that each of the people rushing around her had the potential to do the same sent shivers racing down her spine.

A large crowd of those already prepared to depart had gathered around the teleportation platform and more arrived every minute. Mayalyn pushed through them to find her sister embracing her mate. Pepa and Mathra were there as well, each holding a squirming cub.

Just before she reached them, a powerful voice roared into the excited hubbub, halting everyone in their tracks, “The Aahmra has returned!” Before anyone had a chance to react, an immensely powerful aura blanketed the cavern, pushing everyone to their knees.