In Tartarus

As this political intrigue unfolded in his city, Jonathan scoured the plane of Tartarus for more allies to bring into his fold. Now that he knew the strengths of the Uthraki leaders, judging by the size of their village, he only sought out those that were about the same size as Hushar’s had been. Even then, those were hard to find.

It took him over two hours of searching to even find one, which had required him to backtrack. It seemed that he had been heading deeper into Tartarus on his sojourn, heading towards the heart of the realm. There dwelt beings far too powerful for him to defeat, at least for now.

Creatures at the peak of Tier 2 likely lived there, probably not as powerful as Granath, but close to that level. One day he would challenge them, but not now. He had more pressing concerns, such as the army marching towards his home. Dreams of power could wait for now.

He slowly made his way towards the village that he had spotted, keeping an eye out for any monsters. He did not want to draw the attention of the villagers by staging a massive brawl outside of their village. So far, he had made a few observations about the Uthraki culture. They seemed to treat duels as being sacred, especially with their chieftains. When he had fought with Hushar, and the unnamed woman in the last village, none of the guards had interfered, despite the fact that they would have likely been able to defeat Jonathan if they did so.

The Uthraki were an insular society, and their only contact with the outside world in eons had been with Granath. This world was more like a dungeon than anything else. Rather than being a fully independent realm, it seemed to be governed by the System somewhat. The Uthraki were more like sapient dungeon monsters than anything else. That was likely the explanation for why there were no children. Although Hushar had told him that he was the son of another Uthraki, there was clearly something else going on here. The System probably respawned the Uthraki when they died.

However, that raised questions about what would happen if they left Tartarus, like Hushar had. Such a thing had likely never happened before. Would that mean that the Uthraki would be able to have children in the outer world? That raised interesting questions, both ethical and philosophical. Then Jonathan remembered that he was not here for some quest of justice. He was here to break the hells. Morality could wait for now.

He would likely have to commit atrocities on his path to the top. Indeed, he already had. How many people had died in his escape from the Ashen Citadel? Sure, it was Granath’s magic that had done the damage, but it had still been Jonathan’s fault. With an iron will, he forced the thoughts deep down inside himself, replacing them with steely concentration. He had a mission to complete.

He snuck into the village like a wraith, moving past the guards without drawing their attention. There was no wall around this village, and it was less guarded than the last one. There were fewer people as well, and the leader’s hut was a simple one story building.

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Jonathan reached it in a matter of minutes, and peered in one of the open windows, making sure to create as small a cross section as possible. The perceptions of Tier 2s were superhuman after all. In any case, the window was more of a hole in the wall. In a realm as hot as this, people needed as much ventilation as possible.

A hulking brute, built along the lines of Hushar, sat at a small table, sharpening a weapon. It looked like a broadsword, but it had a curiously curved tip, almost like a saber. In the hands of the titan that wielded it however, it seemed like it would be able to do a lot of damage.

As Jonathan watched the man however, he realized that the resemblance to Hushar was more than just superficial. They had the same facial features. It seemed that this man was a family member of Hushar’s. Which was curious, given that the man had only mentioned his father. While there were no children born in this world, they still had to have come from somewhere. Everyone had originally possessed a father and a mother, and family ties continued even here. He could use this to his advantage, if he did this right.

Jonathan slunk in through the window, landing next to the Uthraki. The man whipped his head up, and had his sword in his hand in the blink of an eye. Jonathan raised his hands in placation, trying to prevent the bestial Uthraki from attacking him on sight.

“I mean you no harm. Are you a relative of Hushar?”

The Uthraki froze, and got to his feet, with a grimace on his face.

“How do you know that name, outsider?” He said, looking extremely suspicious.

Jonathan noticed that he was slowly edging towards him. With a slight shift of his legs, he got into a more battle ready stance.

“He is one of my allies.”

“Hah! As if the proud Hushar would bind his fate to a weakling like you! I do not believe you, liar.” He spoke bitterly, as if he disliked the other man intensely.

“I offered him a chance to get revenge on Granath. Does that not interest you?” Jonathan asked.

“You mean to say that you will take me to the outside world?” The Uthraki asked, with an inscrutable look on his face.

“Yes. I will grant you a boon that will let you retain your strength in the low mana environment. Does that sound acceptable?”

“You seek to placate me with these honeyed words, but you are merely another tool of Granath. Did he finally run out of breeding stock?”

“Breeding stock?” Jonathan asked, confused.

“If you come from the outside world, then you must have seen the halfbreed Uthraki there. Granath stole many of our people away to serve as studs and broodmares for his ambitions. Our race is naturally resilient and strong, and he wanted to harness our power for himself.”

Jonathan took in the new information with a slight rise of an eyebrow. That certainly explained a lot. It seemed that Hushar had not been the first Uthraki to leave Tartarus after all. While a lot of the races in the Ash Heaps were familiar to him, the presence of actual demons had seemed a bit on the nose. Instead, it seemed that the Uthraki were the original progenitors of the race that he had seen.

“I assure you-” Jonathan began, before the sword whistled towards his head.

He let his legs collapse, falling beneath the path of the sword. It seemed that this would end in violence after all. He surged upwards, one fist crackling with energy. He really needed to find a way to bind all of his various skills together, and create a more cohesive attack. Perhaps he could gain another Mythical skill.