Epilogue: The Virtues of Slander
Caster Augustine wasn’t the head of his family by far, but still he knew their problem was bigger than something he and his group could handle alone.
“What do you mean they’re not answering?” His roared question was ignored, the security team around his friends and family, all spinning slowly as if to catch anything that moved within their gazes inside the lavish living room.
Caster was tapped on the shoulder by his second in command, who pointed out an entire defensive structure on their compound set on fire. A ballistic flame avalanched down the tower, growing in power as it ate the structure.
“This can’t be.” Caster spoke to himself as he thought of all the other attacks that had plagued him and his clan recently, but believed himself too low on the rung of the clan’s hierarchy to ever be attacked by an entity formidable enough to attack the Augustines.
“We must leave!” Caster knew it to be true, the compound would be dissolved into a pile of ashes as every other compound or base that had been attacked so far experienced. For the slightest of moments Caster wondered if it had been his dealings with the royal family that brought him here. Only for one of the royal family's most prominent figures to stroll in.
Seneschal didn’t burst the door down to enter. Nor did he appear magically from thin air.
Instead a rippling shadow pooled under the door that led into the room, everything the dark light touched caught fire with a black flame that ate the light in the surrounding area.
Seneschal’s body formed from embers that gathered in the air. The centralized point became his torso, and a breath later he stood at the center of a pool of flaming darkness and wore a smile.
“Let's all be reasonable, please. As it stands, I don’t have to kill any of you, I’m just here to gather some information, that’s all,” said Seneschal. Caster found himself in that moment watched by many in the room. Eyes on him looking for answers on how to proceed, which left the hood of the demon pointed directly at him as well.
“What kind of information would make a King send a highborn demon after our clan,” asked Caster. More of the room was consumed and the security around him and the rest tightened their positioning around the Augustine clan members.
“I need to know where your clan head is, as I am no longer working for the King, I must let you know many of my previous limitations have been lifted,” said Seneschal, demonic dogs rippled into view as the door behind him crumbled into nothingness, consumed by black flame.
“The clan head,” said Caster in a panic.
“I don’t know where the clan head is, he was gifted something by the Oligarchs and has been on a cleanse ever since, maybe not even in this realm anymore,” said Caster. As far as he knew what he’d just said was the absolute truth and nothing but; honestly given in fear for his life.
“I see, well then, where is your nearest base, I’ll ask them,” inquired Seneschal. The demonic dogs at his back walked into the room. Their shadow bodies made of the same conflagration that had eaten the rest of the compound.
Caster thought they looked like huskies he’d adored in his childhood, the friendly creatures given to him by his parents, but the moment one brushed passed the drapes in the room and it too was set ablaze, the notion of similarity died within him unexpressed.
A black fog of condensed and black smoke built above them all the more that burned within the room.
“Let my people leave alive, and I will—“ Seneschal clicked his tongue.
“You see, its those kind of concessions that I once made, that I no longer have to. Ashes will come of you all whether or not you answer,”” said Seneschal, and a man nearby to Caster took flight and attempted to fly straight through a window.
The window proved to be far more resilient than the Cultivator believed it would be and quickly found himself hounded.
The sounds of him being eaten whilst he burned echoed in Caster’s mind, even as Seneschal spoke again.
“All this for a list of names that I already have, but cannot share, you’ve got to love contracts.”
…
Draphen LightLord, Arsenal of Aspire stood outside a dump. He’d originally only thought to stop by, and look over his youngest's attempts at renovation, and was surprised to see innovation, and a soaring level of productivity.
When he’d first claimed the throne of Maelstrom three season cycles ago, he’d thought the dump to be a blemish on the realm some claimed to be the closest to paradise.
Then he’d looked into a matter for a business man who went by the name Mr Kim who’d felt he’d been shafted in his rental of the dump and its surrounding grounds, claiming that his enterprise had plans for the land that would bring great prosperity to the realm.
He’d seen the man’s plans to use enough sandstone and marble to forever disguise what had occurred there, while his son’s approach had a far more historical society approach. His son’s company uncovered the ruins of Ikarus slowly, the ancient group of Godlings seen as the harbinger of Omen and the end of all cultivation within the realms, and even still Arson chose to rebuild, rather than tear it down, or hide the city that now lay below a history's worth of trash and more.
The only other City of the original race of beings that inhabited the SunSpire realms before mortals and gods that Draphen had seen was in a place called Egypt. Hidden beneath sand, seemingly lost to time before he found it and used a teleportation system held within to leave the dead realm known as Cosmos. The very same portal Elizabeth used to escape Earth herself season cycles before him in his youth, a set of carefully hidden clues left unintentionally by his future friend that ultimately led to his rise in power.
“So this is what our union brings,” said King Draphen. A beautiful set of restored buildings now surrounded by luscious grass caught his mind as he roved the land with his perception, taking in the sights of many hard at work.
Hundreds of people farmed, organized trash, and trained their cultivation for as far as the eye could see and further. Draphen’s perception capable of looking through the various open portals held all over the property that showed the king that his son’s operations were far more vast than he’d originally surmised.
“What do you need all of that for, child? The realm is no longer at war,” said Draphen. The man temporarily lost at the amount of weaponry and tools built for warfare being reconstructed behind guarded portals. Even more blindsided by the amounts of literal defensive systems being worked into the land itself.
The king watched as an entire tower in the shape of a cylindrical skyscraper appeared at various positions around the main compound being built by supposed orphans. The structure able to move from any side or corner of the massive warehouse full of portals, that was being used for BlackHole Conglomerate’s operations.
The teleporting skyscraper was taller than the warehouse by a few stories at least, and seemed to hold runic turrets every dozen yards up its considerable length.
Between the large teleporting tower, and the four smaller structures he saw move that were also weaponized, the king felt less inclined to warn his son about the business man who planned to raid his businesses, and hoped the Cultivator who had his sights on Arson, was truly ready for what their target could summon for aid at the wave of a hand.
“Don’t disappoint me, boy, I have a lot of money riding on you being able to defend yourself, and you’ll need a lot more than a few fancy buildings and some bombs to survive this,” said Draphen; before he took flight into the dump, in hopes to see a woman he wished still loved him as much as he did her.
…
Almarine paced in her home office. Worries over a task she’d set out to accomplish weighed heavy on her mind, but there wasn’t anything she could immediately do about the pile of problems.
“He’s back in the realm, Tempest didn’t enjoy having to watch him from afar, but since all the additional mana and experience Arson gained while being gone was granted back to the realm of Maelstrom the societal core seems placated for now.” She’d let Arson know as a youth that the realm core known as Tempest carried a great interest in him, but not exactly how near to obsession the living mana core seemed to be.
If Almarine believed that she could introduce Arson to Tempest and their interactions not become a hinderance on Arson’s own growth she’d have done it ages ago. Yet she knew the decision to be a mistake, as she knew how much attention being involved with living cores brought attention from the system.
The quickly growing core of the Orphanage that she was attached to was another of her many problems, but she knew that Tempest's wrath was far more of an issue than the baby habitat core she cultivated as a legacy in secret.
A shift in temperature was felt and Almarine looked up, finding herself pulled from home across a million miles in a blink. She took in the sight of Tempest, a core that had grown noticeably larger since the last time she’d been yanked from her home in the middle of the night to discuss Arson and his actions.
Glad that no oligarchs could be seen nearby, Almarine bowed slightly and smiled. The deep red cluster of energy in front of her shifted in color from a swirl of deep reds and vibrant lavenders to a soft white tinged with sky blue.
“Ahh hello Almarine, how nice of you to come and visit me,” said Tempest. Almarine nodded, commenting on how the core hadn’t given her a choice felt like the wrong subject to broach in that moment.
“I just wondered if there was anything on your mind,” asked Almarine, feeling that playing along would get her the most reward out of the situation she’d been faced with.
“I see, it must be in my colors today if you can tell so easily that I am not okay,” said Tempest with a heavy sigh.
“What plagues you?” Almarine’s smile was warm and she ignored how similar she had to treat Tempest to the young orphans left behind for her to raise.
“This tournament of scions, did you know that it will be held in CloudLake City, the same place that Arson wants to go to school?”
“Why yes, I believe that I heard something like—“
“What is so impressive about this CloudLake City, its position amongst the top three realms within SunSpire is new. Why is the young man’s attention pulled there so often,” asked Tempest, uncaring of its interruption.
“Nothing but mere coincidence, his mother is from that realm, and some believe that Carter Omni also calls that realm his home,” answered Almarine, feeling that hiding details hadn’t helped her in the past. The less she answered in fact, the More information the core dug for.
“Hmm... well, I would like you to sabotage the tournament in anyway possible so that it is held here,” demanded Tempest. Though the being had said it would like her to do something, the core never asked anyone within its own realm to do anything, as a true option…
“What…”