A few moments later, I looked down at my pawed hands and felt Tiamat's head on my right, and her tortuous mind trying to analyse mine.

She moaned. I had the 'crown', i.e. total control of the physical body.

She felt as if she were burning and the 4 heads began to scream in pain, so densified were they.

My almost superman nature was densifying its atoms and the force overwhelmed her. I was in control but I sensed a creature that was exhausted, tired and, in a way, relieved.

"Tiamat, cheer up. Your suffering is over. You can rest now. I'll take care of everything."

She sent me a telepathic "Thank you, Daathr" and her eyes closed even as I controlled the necks and the 5 heads.

Blackthorne looked at me in amazement.

"Mummy? Is that you???"

"Your mum's asleep. She's exhausted. She's recovering and so should you. We've got a lot of work to do. You can merge if you like."

But he preferred to watch and keep an eye on me, especially as I wasn't putting his mum in danger.

Blackthorne: "You will set her free, yes?"

"But she's free. She just wants to sleep. Her mana is depleted and she's having a seizure that's eating away at her. No wonder she's not in her right mind. It's an abyss! and a reservoir torn apart by the many battles. and especially the terrible defeat that mutilated her against her daughter and her grandchildren who hate her. Normal after all the harm she's done them. I'm wondering what I can do to fix this mess, but even with divine powers, I don't see how. It's a miracle she's still alive. And maybe that's why they didn't finish her off, believing her to be destroyed. They thought she was destroyed (see The End of Everything).

Inside me, I felt the expansion of my darkness with an octahedron per head. And I felt my domain coming back to life but also the borders very close, too close to other vast dimensions.

This Tiamat's territory was shrinking and I felt the threat of other hydras in other dimensions, both near and far.

I had to make myself very small if I didn't want to attract other monsters who wanted us dead and in our place. And I could feel a conquering presence breaking through towards us, as if the fusion had lit a beacon into the infinite and towards dark, fiery dimensions.

But with the hydra's senses, I could sense what was alive and dead, especially the departed souls of the montrotanks, wyverns and children and high humans who perished here. Their slaughter had awoken Tiamat from a long sleep.

I began to cry and I began to scratch the ground and, guided by their ghosts, I could feel the bones and remains of my former Chaos army.

The tears fell and I could see every last moment as etched by the blood and agonised screams of my children.

It was all too much.

Predator knelt before me.

"MAman, I made a mistake... I'm sorry I hurt you... I'm sorry I destroyed Diskor's love. I was confused and hateful... The war, the nerves, my dead sisters, I just snapped. I'm sorry."

I took the little wyvern against me and picked up Diskor. And off we flew to Wintgen's grave.

His bard sisters were guarding a tent nearby, waiting for the eventual return of Diskor, their friend, but when they saw the 5-headed monster, they fainted with fear.

My white head began to breathe life and primordial ice into the tomb, then I repeated the chapter about Lazarus being resurrected by Jesus and the Shroud came to life, the arrow and the wound disappeared and Wintgen got up, a little confused, and threw himself into Diskor's arms, having regained his semi-human form.

Predator prayed to his mother and wept, asking Wintgen and Diskor for forgiveness, but she was ignored as the two lovers had some catching up to do.

So as not to frighten her, I flew off with Predator to repeat this act forbidden by the gods.

In fact, I was waiting for them, at least for them to show up to settle their score.

As I flew away I shouted: "Fuez and join me at the base, there's going to be trouble! The gods are going to try and kill Wintgen!"

The humans and bards panicked and, not wanting to ask for their rest, rushed towards Diskor.

They knelt down and begged the Montrotank to take them with her. They now feared a Talmor purge, and freemen, troubadours and vagabonds were the number one target of the enraged soldiers and, above all, the even more zealous Talmor officers, eager to set an example of a well-done and systematic purge. For them, less Norman meant more room for their settlers, less resistance and less culture.

However, there were also non-Talmor elves who lived in harmony with nature, but if the Talmors were to be compared to the fantasy elves, they would be considered as Drows, black elves, although their skin was not so dark, but culturally, they strongly resembled them. They were called Daedric elves, dark-skinned, but they also had horns, which made them look like demons from the earth and the abyss. It is also said that they had an arachné people, monsters that were half elves and half giant spiders. No one knows their history except in certain poems and songs that border on the real and the fantastic.

Diskor reverted to his tank form and opened his rear hatch, where Wintgen and his two bard friends settled in. They left all their camping equipment behind, taking with them only their clothes and musical instruments.

The armoured door closed and a light was installed so that they were not left in the dark. A screen showed the front of the ship and Diskor's half-human head, to reassure them and talk to them.

The magic Organo mana engine roared to life and the caterpillar tracks tore up stones and earth towards the rear.

They sped along.

As they rounded a bend, a Talmor patrol was seized by the approaching noise and they were petrified.

One of them had just enough time to lower his spear towards the black monster topped by a tentacle spinning at high speed a disc more frightening than a sawmill disc.

And Diskor didn't even move his trajectory,

The Talmors and their horses, 4 in number, were ejected ten metres into the air by the impact, their legs broken, especially the horses.

They crashed behind Diskor, half dismembered and half dying. The horses were lost, their shins torn off by the sharp teeth on the sloping front of the Monstrotank.

At 80 km/h with 50 tonnes, it was like a fly crashing into a windscreen.

The same fate befell a cart carrying prisoners and their jailers.

They were probably eastern rebels caught on the border. The Talmors and Imperials were no slouches. Thieves, bandits, vagrants, all were rounded up. Except for those who had safe-conduct, such as lumberjacks, peasants and other serfs.

For the rest, it was the cart of death that took them straight to the executioner.

He spent most of his time sharpening the blade of his axe, given the number of heads to be chopped off. The cart was often followed by a straw cart. Archers followed the convoys to shoot down any runaways or those who tried.

Priests of various denominations waited at the place of execution and took down the names and last wishes of the unfortunate victims, with the Talmors agreeing to perform the funeral rites and return the remains to their families if they had any. All this was organised with almost an entire administration just for this morbid task.

Diskor didn't care. She was charging straight at them.

The ejected prisoners didn't wait for the rest, their escorts crippled or crushed under the tank's tracks. Freedom was upon them, and they almost wanted to follow the monster to join a potential force against the Talmors.

Some recognised the ancient crest of the Army of Chaos, and began to pray to the Destroyer, or the Devourer or Darkstar, depending on whether they thought it was right or wrong.