“How do you suppose the others are fairing?”

Olatt’an leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. “Certainly a difficult question,” he said. “Idealistically, quite well. Realistically? The situation is pure chaos. Four different factions on two different sides, none of whom seem to trust their supposed allies, all likely believing they have tricks up their sleeves that the others don’t know about. All of whom likely believe they can deal with whatever tricks the others have come up with, leaving the tide turning in their favor.”

Ilya scowled. Her leg thumped against the ground in hasty, repeated nervousness as she chewed on the edge of her lip. “I wish we knew for sure.”

“Arkk can observe anything connected to him. Can you not do the same?”

Ilya opened her mouth but Vezta interjected first.

“Arkk is the Master while Ilya is a subordinate. He can observe her and anyone she is connected to, but the reverse is untrue. At best, Ilya can assist by teleporting some personnel or materials, but lacking the innate knowledge of those contracted to Arkk—those in need of teleportation to safety—her ability to do so from a distance is hindered.” Vezta paused, looked to Ilya with a small frown, then added, “My former master rarely made use of subordinates. Those few he had were all too eager to stab him in the back the moment they thought they had the upper hand, wanting his power for themselves.”

“I would never,” Ilya said, shooting a fierce glare at Vezta, daring the monster to disagree.

Vezta didn’t say a word. She simply resumed her position at Ilya’s side, clasping her hands at her waist while staring straight ahead.

“If only we had more of those crystal balls,” Olatt’an said, his tone turning to a low grumble. “Possibly the most useful object in Arkk’s possession and he hasn’t tried to get more.”

“Not true. He had a few minor expeditions to search out more. They’re just rare and hard to make…” Ilya trailed off, her words turning to a grumble of her own. “Would be useful though. I won’t deny that.”

“I have full faith in Arkk,” Vezta said. If Ilya had to put a word to the tone in the monster’s voice, it would have been pride. Ilya wasn’t sure if she was pleased with Arkk or with herself for selecting Arkk to be her master. Either way, Vezta adopted a fond smile. “He has overcome much. True, he has occasionally stumbled along the way, but when it counts, he can become quite clever.”

“Your opinion is hardly objective,” Olatt’an grumbled.

Though she didn’t wish to speak ill of Arkk, she agreed with the orc. Arkk got ideas in his head, set forth to implement them, and then abandoned them in the next thought as he came up with different ideas. He flew by impulse and instinct, his primary impetus being the protection of those he viewed as having a responsibility toward. Any appearance of cleverness was an illusion crafted in retrospect after succeeding because of luck.

Perhaps that was too harsh. Arkk had gotten them through several rough patches. If he relied solely on luck, it would surely have run out by now.

Ilya turned to the opening door. Modeled after the Al-Lavik command room, Ilya’s spire had a large seat from where she could direct the spire and all those who had recently contracted themselves to her. An ornate window with smoky panes of dark glass ran almost the full circumference of the circular spire’s top, giving her a view in every direction. Two depressions on either side of the war room table were there for supposed scrying teams to operate distraction-free… if she had any.

Couldn’t Zullie have come up with some way to bend the barrier of observation to see distant events, or some other nonsense involving her patron deity?

“Here we are,” Hawkwood said, stepping through the door. He was not alone.

Beside him, a tall man bearing the red and gold of Vaales and another, shorter man with a blue and yellow tabard of Chernlock strode in, their gazes sweeping around the room. Commanders of the armies Ilya had picked up, presumably. The Vaales commander narrowed his eyes in poorly concealed suspicion as he took in the room, only to narrow his eyes further to an angry squint as his gaze settled on Vezta, Olatt’an, and Ilya. Blue and yellow, on the other hand, looked more impressed than anything.

Ilya wondered what the Vaales commander knew—or thought he knew—or if he was just naturally suspicious. The look he gave Ilya went far beyond suspicion. Was it because none of the people standing before him were human? She had heard that Prince Cedric wasn’t kind to beastmen and demihumans. One had allegedly been responsible for the death of his bride years ago. It would make sense that he would surround himself with like-minded individuals.

Which was just another burden on Ilya. Another faction that was supposed to be an ally but one who Ilya didn’t know if he could be trusted.

Ilya’s eyes flicked to the guards on either side of the door. Most of the Black Knights were with Arkk, but he had assigned a handful here. There were no better bodyguards. Well, none better with the exception of Kia and Claire, but the two dark elves needed to remain where the demon was likely to show up.

“Everyone inside?” Ilya asked, looking at Hawkwood. While she already disliked the Vaales commander and didn’t know much about the Chernlock commander, she knew and liked Hawkwood. Her relationship with him wasn’t anything like what Arkk had, but all their meetings had been perfectly pleasant.

It was a shame he wasn’t the one in charge.

“White Company is accounted for,” Hawkwood said with a kindly smile.

“As are my men,” Chernlock’s commander said, stepping forward with an offered hand. “Roman. Sydney Roman. I am the lord representing King Lafoar and am in command of his soldiers.”

“Welcome,” Ilya said, accepting the handshake. If he was going to be polite, so would she. As soon as Roman stepped back, she turned her gaze to the red and gold Vaales commander.

His lips warred with his words, twisting and grimacing in obvious distaste. It was a bit much, in Ilya’s opinion. Even Mystakeen’s most vehement discriminator toward non-humans didn’t fly into a spittle-flinging rage upon being confronted with an elf.

“My soldiers are present,” he eventually said through terse lips. No introduction. No handshake. His hand did move, but only to rest on the hilt of his sword.

Ilya glared back, noting the flinches on all three of their faces as a faint red glow washed over them. Here she was, offering a free ride straight to Evestani’s capital. No walls could stand in her way, no army would give her pause, and as long as Arkk was distracting the avatar, they wouldn’t have to worry about facing something insurmountable. And this man had to fight himself just to remain cordial.

“If you have a problem, get out and walk,” she snapped, eyes flicking to the man’s sword. The red emission in the room flared as she spoke before diminishing to a faint color.

The orc guards at the door shifted subtly, their hands changing their grip on the scythes to better ready themselves. Likely an unnecessary movement. Vezta glided up next to Ilya, lightly touching her elbow. Vezta might not consider herself much of a fighter, but her presence was welcome. She could easily dispatch a single—or even a trio—of magically unenhanced men.

The commander stared a moment longer before sliding his gaze over to his contemporaries. Hawkwood, face set in a fierce scowl, gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Roman looked far too concerned with the change in Ilya to notice the glance the other commander was giving him.

“No problem,” the commander said. His lips remained tight but he dropped his gaze and removed his hand from his sword.

“Excellent,” Ilya said with a joyless smile. The last of the red light in the room diminished to nothing. “Then sit back and relax. Enjoy the ride. We’re not stopping until we’ve crushed to dust whatever hovel Evestani calls a palace.”

They could take command of the city from there. Ilya would leave them, returning to help Arkk—though she doubted the tower would make it in any reasonable amount of time. The Prince could head over to Evestsani, doing whatever he had done in Vaales over there, and leave Mystakeen to Katja and Arkk.

A perfect plan if ever there was one.

----------------------------------------

The plan was not going as perfectly as Arkk had hoped.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Purple marble on the bombardment team’s desk. Charged glowstone quantity down to fifty percent.”

“Evestani army closing in on our position. They are setting up trebuchets.”

“Airships a-aren’t taking meaningful damage from our counterattacks. T-They knock away everything that looks like it will do d-damage and ignore everything else.”

The scrying orb flickered between scenes. The image within the glass changed faster than Arkk could blink. The scrying team had so much to focus on, so many things he needed updates on, that it was a wonder they could even comprehend what they were seeing before it flicked to the next intelligence target. Arkk couldn’t comprehend it, but he hadn’t trained with the scrying team. They were practiced in this.

Occasionally, for more important matters, the image lingered for a few moments longer. Those moments were the main way Arkk was getting his first-hand information of distant events. Closer to home, Arkk just used his localized omniscience. For everything else, he had to trust that his scrying team’s reports were accurate.

If only they had more crystal balls. There should have been two here for two teams to use, lessening the burden. One was currently in the possession of the bombardment team. That team was supposed to use the large windows in the ritual room to select and aim at their targets.

With the occasional shots making it through the protective magics from the airship, Arkk couldn’t take the risk of leaving open windows everywhere. The tower was fully sealed.

Some things were going well. His men, combined with his attentive efforts to keep them as safe as possible, forced the Eternal Empire back from the tower. They hadn’t done quite as much damage as Arkk would have hoped for. Nothing decisive. The Eternal Empire wasn’t fleeing in terror. They just took a step back to reevaluate their strategy in taking the fortress.

Allowing them time to plot wasn’t the best option he had. Still, he was making use of the reprieve. Besides ensuring everyone saw the healers in the infirmary, Arkk conducted a slew of repairs. Lesser servants were repairing damaged traps, building new ones, and narrowing certain passages to the point where he found it unlikely that bulky knights would be able to continue their invasion. That would let him focus on other matters.

“Trebuchets launching the first volley. Looks like Evestani is setting up magical bombardment as well.”

“As expected,” Arkk said.

He watched the crystal ball, following the trail the heavy stones arced through the air. They struck the shield, failing to penetrate. Instead, the swirling winds carried them off, throwing them to the side where they crashed down into the forest below. One of the trebuchets hadn’t launched a stone. A fireball exploded against the winds, doing little harm.

Arkk bit his lip. “Eyes on the avatar?”

“Center of the camp,” Harvey said instantly as the perspective flipped again. “Seems to be overseeing the assembly of bombardment rituals… He is staring directly at us with a heavy scowl on his face.”

Arkk clasped his hands together. The avatar was present but hadn’t launched one of those golden beams yet. Arkk assumed he wished to wait until the shield went down, just to ensure he did the most damage possible to the building. If Arkk had learned one thing about his opponent, it was that he was prone to rash decisions if he got frustrated. His encounter at Gleeful was proof enough of that.

If the shield managed to weather a few minutes of bombardment without apparent falter, the avatar would use his golden ray to destroy it. He had never used a large ray twice in a short timeframe, which told Arkk that he couldn’t use it too rapidly. So, he would only get one shot. Either destroy the shield or hit the tower. Not both.

Arkk dropped a white marble onto the bombardment team’s receptacle. Zullie’s hastily modified spell had better work.

“Another i-incoming attack from the airships!” Luthor shouted.

Clenching his teeth, Arkk pulled all the lesser servants off the exterior of the tower. Just in time.

Every cannon on the Empire’s airship fired as one, blasting a hole in the roaring wind of the shield. Several shots made it through, knocking chunks of the tower’s reinforced walls to pieces. But the real threat came after. Before the shield repaired itself, that whale ship vomited large globs of red, meaty mass.

Two splattered against the reforming shield, but four made it through. They struck the side of the tower, sliding down with long red streaks in their wake. He immediately felt the Heart tolling the alarm bells. The egg-like globs stuck to the tower’s walls, digging thin tendrils into cracks in the dark bricks. They wormed their way in, draining magic from him to use to fuel their growth. The eggs swelled, forming more tendrils to dig in and drain even more magic. A cascading effect of exponential growth.

If he hadn’t had Fortress Al-Mir, if this had been his only fortress, he would likely have died. The first one that got through shocked him. But now, he had a tactic.

Teleporting a lesser servant out to the side of the tower, just above one of the eggs, it swiftly constructed a small platform. As soon as the platform was stable, Arkk teleported himself.

The roaring wind filled his ears as his cloak flapped and fluttered in the gale. A misting of moisture dusted his cheeks. Had he been unprepared, he likely would have been swept off into the protective storm. Instead, he crouched down.

“Incendiary Explosio,” he intoned.

The egg below him shuddered, reacting to the surge of magic in the air. His spell ignited a brilliant blaze, a concentrated ball of flames that detonated on impact. A fiery shockwave rippled across the tower’s surface. The egg burst apart, its fleshy tendrils snapping and curling into ash as they were consumed by the flames.

Arkk barely paused to admire his handiwork. The three remaining eggs clung stubbornly to the tower, each pulsing ominously as they continued to siphon his magic. He didn’t know if there was more to them than he had seen so far. Their purpose could simply be to drain magic… or they could drain it in build-up to something worse. Arkk bet on the latter. Of everything he had faced so far, these eggs seemed made specifically to deal with people like him.

To deal with fortresses.

He teleported to the next platform the moment the lesser servant finished it. Another Incendiary Explosio ridded him of one of the eggs. Two more teleports and two more spells and the tower was clean. Every available servant moved to the tower’s exterior at his command, scurrying across its surface to repair all the damage.

A tug on the link had Arkk teleporting straight back to the command center. Out on the exterior, he was open and vulnerable. If the avatar fired off one of those beams while he was out there, he could kiss his life goodbye without a doubt.

“Report,” Arkk barked as soon as he reappeared.

“Evestani bombardment rituals are fully set up and staffed,” Camilla said. The fairy stared at the crystal ball with worry etched on her face. “I thought they were going to use them, but…they aren’t activating them. Waiting for something?”

“Maybe t-timing them with the airship bombardments?”

“Or the golden ray to take down the shield?”

“Maybe they don’t want to hit the Empire soldiers?”

“Doubt it,” Harvey said with a shake of his head. “Speaking of soldiers, the King’s Army is almost directly underneath the tower.”

Arkk flicked his gaze to the tunnels underground, noting the army. They were making their way through slower than Arkk had expected. Maybe wary of the noise and explosions above ground. “I’ll go speak with them. We should have a short reprieve before the Empire launches another volley at us. Alert me if anything notable changes in the situation.”

It was a bit concerning. Three times, those eggs had made it through the barrier. The first time, only one egg hit the side of the tower. It was a good thing too, given his delay in dealing with it. The second time, two hit. Now four.

It was a good thing he had managed to take out so many of those whale ships before the fighting even started. If there had been nine to fifteen of the things, he could only imagine how covered in eggs the tower would have been. Arkk doubted he would have been able to burn them off before dealing with them.

One was bad enough.

“Mags,” Arkk said, appearing a short distance in front of the Prince’s commander. Claire was at his side, as was usual when meeting with anyone from the Prince’s faction. He gave her a small hand signal while Mags stumbled back in exaggerated shock, letting her know that he was who he appeared to be. Just a little precaution.

“You—” Mags started, only for Arkk to interrupt him.

He didn’t have time for games. “The tower is under attack on all sides. We’re holding strong for now,” Arkk said, truthfully, though perhaps downplaying the situation somewhat. “Evestani’s forces have set up in a bombardment position a short distance away. Their army is primarily made up of normal men and women with only their avatar as an exception. Their army is likely the only part of the conflict your army can meaningfully contribute toward. So, I have taken the liberty of extending the tunnel out behind their forces. You’ll be able to emerge with an advantage.

“Deal with them or cower here,” Arkk continued, speaking a little louder to perhaps spur on some of his men. He still wasn’t sure if Mags was the demon. Given the shapeshifting ability, Mags might be real sometimes but might also be a demon at other times. Arkk could never be certain with whom he was speaking unless they were an employee. “I don’t believe they’re going to play a consequential role in the current battle regardless.”

Mags narrowed his eyes, twisting his pudgy face into a frown. “What of the avatar?”

“I have a plan to deal with him. Though… he is undoubtedly an enemy of the Prince,” Arkk said, watching how Mags reacted carefully. “Perhaps I should leave him for you to deal with.”

Mags didn’t give anything away, one way or another. “I’ve read the reports. Your reports. You expect regular men to deal with a monster like that? Preposterous!”

“I believe someone in your ranks stands a chance against him,” Arkk muttered. Taking a breath, he spoke louder. “As I said, I have a plan to deal with him. Ideally, he’ll be dealt with before you arrive. Realistically, I’ll use the chaos you create to ensure he goes down. In the latter case, I hope to do so before your forces suffer too many losses.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” Mags said with a sneer.

Arkk just raised an eyebrow. “Is this not what you wanted? Is this not what you came here for? This army was on the verge of mutiny against both you and me because they were being sidelined. Now is the time for you to step up. The blood of Prince Cedric’s enemies awaits spilling.”

A small smile spread across Mags’ face. “That it does,” he said. Turning, he raised his voice. “Well? You heard the man! We’ve got heretics to slaughter!”

Arkk raised his other eyebrow, shooting a glance at Claire. The dark elf shrugged, her afterimages copying her motions. “I’ll leave you to it then,” Arkk said. “Just follow the tunnel. You can’t miss the exits.”

He and Claire teleported away before Mags could argue further. If he was the demon, hopefully he would keep himself busy for a while and not interfere with Arkk. If he wasn’t the demon, his distraction would still have value.

Another tug across the link hit Arkk just as he reappeared in the command center. He felt a moment of panic, snapping his gaze to the scrying team, only to realize it hadn’t come from them. It came from afar.

Agnete was back home once more. This time, with a caravan of mechanical soldiers at her back.

Arkk took in a deep breath, relishing in the one note of good news he had seen in the last hour.