In most circumstances, a city wall should serve as a static fixture in a city. Once built, the wall stands until either time erodes it or an aggressor destroys it. If a city needs to expand, then they build an additional wall further out while keeping the current one, creating something of an expanding ring of walls to house the city’s population.

It’s the sensible thing to do. The costs, time, and manpower for demolishing a wall, a structure meant to be as hard to break as possible, and then rebuilding it again but wider is far more expensive than just leaving the original alone. Especially since the original wall can still serve as an emergency defense should an enemy breach the first. A normal leader might laugh at the sheer stupidity of the idea.

Normal is, unfortunately, a term that Rose finds to be the furthest possible thing from those she finds herself now working with.

“Put your whole body into the swings and make sure to swing to the drums beat. Avoid any falling debris!”

Dozens of Minotaurs, wearing protective equipment and wielding massive hammers, whack at Sanavils walls. With each strike, stone breaks and is tossed aside so that they may continue. Behind the wall-smashers, several dozen more Minotaurs grab the chunks and pile them into carts that are then transported to the location where the new, larger wall will be created.

She understands the reason. With the new arrivals, the population of Sanavil has more than doubled. The city cannot support the current number of residents, so expansion is necessary.

What she doesn’t understand is why the city needs to be ten times larger. Even if they expect growth, wouldn’t two or three times more area be enough?

“My [Lady].”

Rose sighs. She looks away from the destruction of the city wall and turns to David.

“More problems, David?”

The Rat-demihuman studies his [Lady]’s exhausted countenance. He worries for his liege. Previously, Rose has remained stoic. Even during the siege of Sanavil, she remained relaxed and acted appropriately.

But now, it’s clear the current circumstances are beyond the [Lady]’s control.

“Several, unfortunately.”

The [Lady] grumbles and folds her large arms. She is currently on the outskirts of the city, watching everything that is happening while serving as a calming presence for the humans that are watching the city walls being torn down.

“What are they?”

David opens a book, not parchment or scroll, but an actual book filled with papers. Paper is an expensive commodity and is usually only used for documenting very important information, but the centaurs have a very cost-effective way to create it and will probably flood Sanavil’s market with the now cheap product.

“As you know, the Kitsune have, ah, laid claim to several of the larger estates within the city, where they have erected a magically protected tower.”

Rose turns from where she is facing the wall to look back at the tower not from her castle. The new structure is as wide as her home, but three times as tall with trails of mana streaming up and down the walls. It took less than a week to construct.

“The previous owners are upset by this?”

“No, they were upset when slavery was abolished and all [Slaves] were set free. The loss of their wealth and homes have left them apoplectic. Many have threatened violence against the Kitsune.”

The thought threatens to put a smile on Rose’s face. The idea that a bunch of [Nobles] and wealthy [Traders] could even try to fight against [Mages] strong enough to level a city is darkly amusing.

“Promise them new land when new walls are complete. If they are still angry, then they are free to do as they wish to the kitsune.”

“My [Lady]!”

“Relax, David. Most of them aren’t stupid. Threatening to attack the Kitsune has to be the worst bluff I’ve ever heard.”

David shakes his head. He hopes she is right about this.

“Alright, I’ll have them informed. Now, we have another problem,” David pauses, his eyes reading and rereading what he’s written. “A [Grocer] was allegedly killed by a Gejan [Elite Soldier] over the harming of a child.”

Rose squints as she attempts to understand what he just said. “He harmed a Gejan child? I was under the impression that their children are forbidden from entering Sanavil until all laws are updated.”

David nods. “They are. The child was human. She’s three years old, homeless, and was caught stealing food from a stall. The [Grocer] caught her and then slammed her into a wall with enough force to break several of the child’s bones. The passing Gejan saw what happened and immediately stopped the [Grocer] by grabbing his head and slamming it against the wall until it broke. The wall, not the man’s head.”

“Hm. Thuggish.” Rose mulls it over. “What of the Gejan?”

“The Gejan in question took the injured child and left. Due to his level, our [Guards] did not attempt to apprehend him.”

Rose sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. The [Grocer] was within his rights to punish the [Thief], even if the punishment was severe. She could only classify it as murder.

Rose watches the Minotaurs working until she finds the one shouting orders at them.

“Marcia!” Rose calls out as she approaches.

Marcia, the [Prime Quartermaster], a tall Gejan female tilts her head towards the [Lady].

“[Lady] Rose, is something the matter? You look angry.”

The [Lady] reaches the Gejan and nods. “A human [Grocer] was murdered by a Gejan [Elite Soldier] over harming a child.”

Marcia’s rather neutral no-nonsense expression turns grim. “Sorry, but his actions are then within his rights.”

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“How is someone getting killed in broad daylight allowed?”

Marcia sighs. “Because that is the one law that our [King] made sure is thoroughly understood.”

“Law? What law?”

“Intentionally harming a child, anyone below the age of thirteen, is absolutely forbidden upon punishment of death. It is the only law that even [Queen] Nighmora is not allowed to overrule.”

“But, that’s Insane!” Rose splutters.

Marcia chuckles dryly. “Yes, our [King] very much is.”

___________________________________________________________

The God of Thunder, a divine being whose mastery of lightning is second only to Zeus, grumbles in annoyance. Not long ago, he was watching his champion do battle against the forces of the olympian gods. It was as glorious as it was entertaining.

Unfortunately, his father wanted him to check up on his sister…

With annoyance clear on his face, Thor opens the chamber door and enters Eir’s prison.

“Sister-”

“You can take your prissy attitude, your hammer, and shove them both up your hairy ass, Thor!”

The god ignores her words and walks up to the naked goddess.

“Dad’s pissed, sis. He wants to know how your power is rising so quickly.” Thor says, though he is curious himself. Her influence has skyrocketed. Normally, influence is based on the number of followers a god has, their levels generally being secondary unless they reach the second tier.

“Tell the fucker to come down here so I can tell him to go fuck himself in person.”

Thor sighs.

“Eir, dad sent me to ask because he’s too busy right now. Things have gotten a bit... unpredictable with the war. He doesn’t have time to waste on you.”

Eir smirks.

“Good,” she chuckles. The chains keeping her on the wall jingle with each laugh.

Thor gazes at his sister. Though only half his blood, he still cares about her. Then he frowns as he gazes at her naked body. Her skin has grown smooth and translucent, almost shimmering. “How!” his eyes widen.

She begins to laugh, showing her teeth to Thor.

The chains holding her down are covered in cracks. Her power has grown so fast and so much that the contract meant to bind her is breaking. His eyes glow as he checks her connections to her followers, those who share her mark. At this very moment, her power and influence are accelerating at a pace he has never before seen.

Her laughter rises and even Thor can sense it. The bond is forming, one which brings with it power.

It forms… and her chains shatter.

______________________________________________________

Several thousand centaurs make their way through Sanavil, following the Gejan Orlan. Normally, Orlan would be with the army, training with his men and doing the drills the [General] ordered, but this is more important.

Passersby make way as he leads the centaurs through the streets. The centaurs walk in uncanny order, not marching in lock-step like an army, but moving together like a well-trained mob. Each centaur wears a white blanket sporting a red cross.

Orlan stops when he reaches his destination. Before him, up the hill, stands the city’s chapel, white walls radiant under the sun.

“Is that it, Orlan?” asks a Centaur [Grand Healer].

“I believe so,” he answers.

Upon hearing his words, the Centaurs flood upwards. Sanavil’s residents near the chapel quickly run away as the mob of centaurs rushes to the building.

They reach the building. They wait impatiently as Orlan walks to the doors.

“Is this it? Should it not be larger? More magnificent?” a centaur asks.

“It matters not, brother. The goddess Eir serves the Tyrant Healer. Through the goddess, we may aspire to reach her greatness.”

Orlan shakes his tail. No matter how he has tried to explain it, the centaurs seem to believe that the goddess serves Jessica.

“Come brothers and sisters, let us join in the worship of the Tyrant’s Goddess! Let us make a pact and be counted as her servants!”

The centaurs shout in unison as they almost break the front doors open in their enthusiasm. They stream into the chapel, from whence Orlan hears a loud scream.

The gejan groans and follows them inside. The centaurs have stopped moving. He forces his way to the front, where finds a woman dressed in armor brandishing her sword and shield in alarm.

“What? Who are you all!? Why have you come here!?”

“Move aside, human! The Tyrant demands we enter a covenant!”

Before a fight breaks out, Orlan makes his way to the armored lady.

“Are you, by chance, Scarlet, the [City Guardian] of Sanavil?”

“I, yes?” she says. She turns her attention to the Gejan with dark blue scales.

“I see. Please put your weapon down. Jessica’s [Healers] wish to make a pact with the goddess.”

“Yes, we must become closer to the tyrant!” a centaur yells, a cry which is quickly echoed by others. Those centaurs outside, oblivious to what’s going on, join in anyways. Soon, several thousand centaurs are roaring to the sky.

Scarlet is taken aback by their enthusiasm and doesn’t know what to make of the word “tyrant.” Then the meaning of their words finally hit her and she smiles. She sheathes her weapons and steps to the side.

Who is she to stand in the way of new worshippers?

“Go ahead, and may Eir guide your steps,” she says with a smile.

Then she is slammed to the side as dozens of Centaurs push their way to the altar.

Just before she loses her footing, a hand grabs her and pulls her up.

“Don’t fall now,” Orlan says, pulling her to the side of the chapel.

“I- Thank you. I wasn’t expecting them to be-” her words go silent as a golden glow erupts at the front.

“I swear to serve!” the glowing centaur yells. He slaps his arm, where the image of a white raven appears.

Seeing the centaur standing triumphant with the glowing mark of Eir, more and more stream into the building, yelling and screaming as loud as they can.

Light encompasses more and more Centaurs as they swear their allegiance. Their classes change from [Healers] to [Priests] and from [Grand Healers] to [Archpriests]. Scarlet is dumbstruck by the sight. She had hoped that some people from Sanavil might become [Priests] and [Priestesses]. Oh, she would have been so happy to have two or three. But now, with this?

“This… Is this normal?”

Orlan merely shrugs.

__________________________________________________________

Three hours. It took three hours for roughly three thousand Centaurs to join Eir and obtain a new class. Three hours of centaur screaming and roaring. Three hours that Orlan and Scarlet sat and watched.

When the last centaur finishes and leaves, Scarlet releases a sigh

“That was amazing.”

Orlan stands up. “Yes, it was.”

He walks up to the altar.

“What are you…”

He smiles towards her before gazing at the majestic form of Eir. He kneels down.

“My name is Orlan. I wish to swear loyalty to you, Goddess Eir. I offer up my class, my body, and my mind in service.”

He places his hand on the altar. The altar glows. A golden, translucent ball coalesces in the air in front of him.

“Thank you.”

He grabs it and presses it to his chest.

Level 223 [Dragoon Archlancer] class removed.

Level 223 [Dragoon Archpaladin] class obtained.

17 skills have been removed

22 skills have been added

All stats have been adjusted

[Champion of Eir] Blessing obtained

“Did you-” Scarlet starts to ask.

Laughter interupts her, Laughter that seems to come from everywhere. Unfettered joy and malicious glee in equal parts fill the chapel…

The world seems to pause for a timeless moment. Silence fills the air. Everything is still.

Then the echoes of breaking chains fill the hallowed room.