Even after scouring the Twice records, I still fail to understand why the Spearbreaker chose to restrict Golgheim and the Primes so strictly. Sure, we have decision-making authority for external affairs, but we cannot create hidden quests or manage luck distribution. How are we supposed to create [Elites], much less access upgrades for Aris as Primes? The power structure here feels like a sham. Why did the Spearbreaker go through the effort to assert sovereignty when we are not free to use the system how we wish? We are stuck in a cage of his making.
Most importantly, I am truly curious where all our taxed luck is going.
– Elara Twice, Ravings of a Madwoman
Chapter 31 – Undeath and Taxes
Sam's gaze stuck upon the skeletal figure before him. Its overflowing aura gripped his heart like the cold embrace of death itself. But it wasn't the undead being that broke him. No. It was the absurd situation manufactured by this undead being.
Sam looked to his side and whispered to Azelar—his goldfish compatriot in this madness. "I don’t mind going back. Really. We can just pop right out of here. The aquarium room was a tad stuffy… Oh no, not that there was anything wrong with it. The Coral was excellent, and Charlaine has award-winning television. If I had my own room, that would be wonderful." His words were barely more than a whisper, yet they broke the silence of the conference room.
The wistfulness in his voice betrayed a yearning for simpler times.
They were located inside a large galaxy class megaship orbiting Amithus, the gas giant. The megaship was a creation of the renowned Voidbreaker News Corporation, made specifically for high-visibility galactic conferences. The expo drew in beasts from all over zone 4 and sprawled with different organizations bidding for eyes on their newest products, services, foods, and investments. Some paid to meld over from even greater distances from their world hubs, while others came physically with their fleets.
Pop-up stalls filled the expansive 2000 deck expo ship—an odd superposition of the motley beast assembly and their eclectic tastes in advertisements. The conference room where Sam sat, on the other hand, was located on the penthouse deck and was furnished extravagantly with high ceilings and adamant crown molding. It was fit for the expensive tastes of its VIP clientele. Just fancy enough for them not to complain.
Sam's perusal drifted from the mundane—a continental breakfast laid bare in the center of a grand table—to the extraordinary. In front of him sat Chad Velorem, the lich and young master of the Kathoric Dynasty, A.K.A. @KATHORIC_LICHBAE, garbed in casual attire and sipping on coffee: blue jeans and a plain white tee. His presence was an affront to the natural order, an undead lich with a fashion sense.
Flanking Chad were entities that Sam most certainly did not want to see: Carmen the solar kraken, and Kanga the amphibious kangaroo. Towering above them all, Vindictus Eternal, the majestic Falkori dragon.
All of them were giant, yet still comfortably seated around the large conference table. Kanga's skin was perhaps a little dry due to the heat emanating from Vindictus. Sam could tell Kanga was annoyed.
"Chad," Sam breathed, his tone laced with a blend of incredulity and reproach. "This isn’t what I had in mind, man. We wanted to get through them."
Chad, unperturbed, cast a lackadaisical glance towards Sam. "I have diplomatic sway, relax man," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. His voice was the epitome of nonchalance. "Just be chill, yo."
"Be chill?" Sam echoed. “Huh. Honestly, no one has said that to me before.” Sam looked towards Azelar. The goldfish sat quietly next to him, shedding tiny golden tears into his water helmet. They deposited with the soft clink of precious metal against the polished glass surface. The galaxy is a big place.
Chad leaned back in his chair as he addressed the crowd. "Seems to me like you guys are fucked. I have the box and the cervid," he stated plainly, "I’m chill though, so I’ll bring them along to the party. My e-vite must’ve been lost in the mail."
A rumble of dissent echoed from Vindictus and Kanga. They were ancient beings, yet now they gathered like common sys-bureaucrats around the conference table.
"Why not slay thee and seize what thou holdest? We all know Sam hath the cervid," growled Vindictus Eternal, the Falkori dragon, a strange sight in the confines of the expo ship.
"You could," Chad said with a shrug that seemed too mortal for his undead frame, his nonchalance unsettling.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
"The hells, man," Sam muttered under his breath, his boldness shadowed by the flicker of fear.
Chad replied, heedless of Sam's protest, "After all, I am a lich. Who knows where my soul phylactery could be. Either way, I'm sure the Third Diadochi of the Undead Legion would find it most...fucked, should harm come my way. Anyways, we’re in K-space right now, bro. Call it the undead tax."
The lich's bluff was as effortless as the vacuum outside the ship’s reinforced hull—transparent yet impenetrable. Even now, Chad's casual posture belied the tension that thrummed in the air. Sam knew why. The Undead Legion were annoying as shit. Most empires respected undead neutrality, mostly because fighting the undead armies would only end up feeding them bodies. Instead most empires resorted to economic control to limit the flow of black market corpses. That is, unless they were on a holy crusade. Also, the undead are kinda lazy, anyways.
It was Carmen, the solar kraken, who broke the stillness.
"The undead’s participation was expected," she declared, her voice telepathically communicating to everyone present. Surprise flickered across the faces of Kanga and Vindictus, their expressions quickly schooling into acquiescence. These creatures, legends in their own right, deferred to the kraken's wisdom—a testament to her unspoken authority.
Sam's gaze locked with Carmen's eyes, looking for any reason for her power over the other creatures despite her lower stage. She responded to his scrutiny with a wink—an action so human it bordered on the absurd.
Sam's gaze drifted from the cryptic exchange between Chad and the stage-three beasts to the panoramic viewport, where the darkness of space enveloped the colossal conference expo ship. Sam recalled his forced exit from his appropriated Starbird. Jaxon and @ZephyrDeity remained behind in the relative safety of his ship, now in orbit hidden between thousands of other ships. He had come to this place under duress and was forced to seek out Chad, the lich with a plan.
Aris remained sealed, its secrets locked away behind system protocols and lawyers no magic or strength could breach. Not at our level, anyways. The entire planet was encased in a tessellated red system shield. No entry - only death awaits. There are strong system protections in place.
Sam had entertained fleeting thoughts of escaping after landing at the expo, but running away was always harder than leaning in. Especially when you end up escorted by three stage-two otters as soon as you arrive. I’ll wait for enough karma.
As silence stretched between the group, Vindictus Eternal turned his gaze upon the duo standing discreetly behind the young lich. His voice seemed to warp the fabric of space itself. "What claim doth thou hast over these two?" inquired the dragon, its eyes narrowing.
"Ah, these are my bros. Their names are said in reverence and fear," Chad responded. "Dignitaries of the Kathoric Dynasty, commanders of the undead legion—that’s Sam and this one is…” His finger gestured toward them.
Sam looked at the terrified face of Azelar and responded. “Azelar.”
“Yep, that’s Azelar. He’s chill.”
The gathered beasts offered stares devoid of emotion, their deadpan expressions more telling than any words of shock or awe. Kanga and Carmen sighed. Chad’s overt misrepresentation was beyond them.
“Vindictus Eternal offers our respect to the Kathoric court.”
Sam almost laughed but held it in.
"Don’t scare the mortals, Vindy. Let’s get on to business. Complications have arisen," Carmen declared. "We must extend our conference event and hold everyone hostage for longer than anticipated."
Vindictus's scales twitched with contained agitation. "Our defenses are not impregnable," he grumbled, his words heavy with foreboding. "The human army swarms closer by the moment and we won't be able to hold the conference attendees for long."
“Honestly, I don’t know how long we have to wait. I can only trust our operatives on the ground. The window should have opened by now.”
Kanga's eyes flickered painfully with the rapidity of thought, his amphibian heritage betraying his discomfort with quick, jerky motions. "If the humans breach," he started. "We are vulnerable."
“How long until they arrive?”
“We should have two days at the most.”
“Lord Velorem, perhaps you can arrange for a diversion. Buy us some time?”
“Nope, we’re neutral. Pass.”
“As expected. We can remain here for another 36 hours. If the window doesn’t open by then, we will have to abandon the majority of the fleet and sneak onto the planet in stealth. Once the window opens, we depart. Pendulum can face us as equals down there if they can find us. They don't have detailed mapping of the world."
Carmen turned her gaze upon Chad. "Will you be bringing the box to the surface personally?"
It was a question wrapped in layers of implication. The box must be Jaxon’s treasure chest.
Chad met her stare. "I've stayed a mortal for this pow wow after all. Wouldn’t miss it for the afterlife," he affirmed.
Vindictus spoke next. "We set our landing for the winter continent. We hast discovered an access point to the underground there that places us closer than any others that we hast explored."
"Such an endeavor demands a conservative allocation of force and mastery," Vindictus continued, his words painting the stark outline of their needs. "Manasmiths, alchemists, healers and other essential support staff on top of the standing elites."
Carmen nodded then responded, "What is the latest tally of mortal [Elites] that stand ready?"
The amphibian kangaroo met her gaze, "One hundred and fifty seven, at last count. This should be trivial to end the world trial immediately.”
"Perhaps, but there are other games at play here as well," she intoned. “The Spearbreaker has too many enemies; enough to fracture the entirety of Cazoran. His contracts alone are enough to bring out a dozen empires that want to escape his net.”
"How many souls will you be bringing? We will acquaint you with our elite commanders."
"Not a legion, if that’s what you’re asking." Chad replied, "A handful, no more. We’re gonna land on the summer continent."
Carmen narrowed her eyes. “Then we shall meet again in Mabu’Aris.”
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