“Are you sure it was smart to send such an aggressive and… descriptive letter?” Joseph asks, having seen the several page letter that Tersus had written in haste. Though, he does have to admit that the [Cleanly King’s] handwriting is impressively precise.

Tersus sips his wine slowly, ever vigilant against a possible drop that might slide down his glass and touch his desk, or worse, his shirt. It would be a shame if he had to replace either of them again.

The [King]'s eyes shift to the glowing lamp on his desk, pleased with the spotless glass flue. “The walls of my city are a symbol. They represent all and everything that is just and clean. If they are ever sullied, then Rathos must understand the severity of his trespass,” he declares, expression dead serious.

Joseph nods, accepting the man's explanation, though not agreeing with the action one bit. He doubts Rathos cares about the wall getting dirty. The [General] probably just wants to end this war as soon as possible.

“Even so, I don't think you understand how outmatched you are. I’ve seen his army and I don’t think your defenses can hold.”

“They can, and they will. So long as my people hold and our supplies endure, then it will be him running away, not me.”

The [Inquisitor] releases an exasperated breath. The arrogance of a [King] is stunning to behold. Joseph doesn’t comprehend where he gets his confidence.

“Look, your walls will not be able to ho-” Joseph pauses as a cold gust of wind brushes against his nape, sending a shiver down the [Inquisitor]’s back.

With a shudder, the braziers on the walls and the candle on the desk start to dim. The flames burn high as they did moments prior, but the light fails to pierce the growing gloom.

Joseph's eyes widen in immediate recognition. In an instant, the [Inquisitor] of Odin takes a knee facing the direction where the shadows are deepest.

“[Inquisitor] Joseph greets Raven Zero.”

Tersus, confused and panicked, opens his mouth to speak, but a heavy force keeps him from saying anything. He struggles even to breathe. A moment later, his eyes move towards a writhing shadow.

From the darkness, a presence emerges. A man shrouded in shadows steps forward, the lights dimming further around him.

“[Inquisitor],” the man says, his voice issuing from every shadow, “you are far from command. State your mission.”

Joseph finally looks up at one of the most powerful individuals on Orbis: Umbra, the Suffocating Shadow, the man who earned his name by asphyxiating an entire city single-handedly. Over a hundred-thousand people died that day.

And it is this self-same monster that stands before him.

“By order of the Chancellor, I am to find [General] Rathos and recruit him to our cause.”

Umbra does not move. His silhouette remains still, but the shadows shift around him.

“Ah, him. He fled to the south two years ago.” The words come slowly, ponderously, but laced with menace. “And, have you found this [General] or have you botched your task?”

The shadows flicker, brushing against the light, dimming it.

“Y-yes, I have found him. [General] Rathos is leading the army that is besieging this city.”

The shadows revert, allowing slightly more light into the room. Umbra shifts his head towards a window. He walks to it, eyes peering through the black effortlessly. He had noticed the army, but dismissed it as a petty [King] conquering. But now, with more careful observation, he notices the different demi-humans milling about, species he has never seen before. Horse-like humanoids, lizard-men, manlike bulls, and several Fox-kin with more tails than should be possible. The average level of the army is over one hundred with several individuals in the two-hundred range.

Such a concentration of high level creatures so far to the South is clearly related to Mimir, as are these new humanoids. To make matters worrisome, they’re being led by a competent [General].

“I see why you have struggled in contacting the [General].” Umbra muses. The shadows writhe like snakes throughout the room. They flow towards him, rising up his body like water.

“I will deal with this [General] and then the army.”

Umbra sinks into the floor and the shadows disperse like inverted embers fading in the wind. The full strength of light returns, followed by a deep breath from Tersus. The [Ceanly King] tumbles from his chair to the ground and heaves. When he finishes emptying his stomach, he looks at the mess on the floor and passes out, directly into the smelly puddle

Joseph does not move, not even sparing the [Cleanly King] a glance. The [Inquisitor] continues to kneel with his own heart pumping rapidly.

___________________________________________________________________

“Of all the idiotic places you could have run off to, why here, an active warzone?” Rathos asks as he paces back and forth in the minotaur’s tent.

“This isn’t a game,” he stops pacing and glares at the two girls, with a focus on his daughter. “You were supposed to be far away from here, in Sanavil, surrounded by enough powerful people to deter an average army. Coming here, you’ve not only disobeyed me and your tutors, but you’ve placed yourself where things are the most dangerous. I’m here, waging war so that you can live free and safe, with anything you should reasonably want, and now…”

He looks down at the two girls and shakes his head. “Izabella… I’m disappointed.”

Izabella and Aisha both keep their heads down and eyes averted. Izabella’s hands clench down hard and she struggles to not let tears come to her eyes.

Rathos sighs. It's clear to him that they were bored and wanted to see what he was doing. He’d probably be a decent bit angrier if not for the sham of a war he’s currently in. As of right now, he could order the army to charge and the city would be salted earth by the morning. The only reason he doesn’t are the losses he would incur by being brash.

“Neither of you can stay here.” he decides. Pointing at the wyvern snoring on the bed, he glowers. “Take your… pet and fly back to Sanavil. I can't do my job properly if I have to constantly worry over you.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“But-”

“No buts. This is war, and war is no place for child-” Rathos pauses, his hand flicking to Joy as something brushes against his aura.

“Girls, under the table!”

The girls look at each other incredulously.

“Now!”

With his aura pushing them, the girls immediately comply.

As they crawl under the table, Rathos attempts to send a message through his aura, but fails. His hand tightly grips his sword’s hilt. This has never happened before.

“It has been a while since someone was able to sense me from a distance.”

The candlelight weakens, the shadows within the tent darken and gather, seeming to come alive. A voice echoes from every shadow, a sepulchral sound that makes his hair stand on end.

“Umbra,” Rathos growls, remembering the one Name feared above all others.

“So you know of me,” the voice echoes. The shadows coalesce into a man standing by the bed. His head resolves into a raven-beaked plague mask under a porkpie hat that seems to float in the darkness, all while the man’s body remains wrapped in murk.

“You’re the Named who leads the assassination wing of Odin.”

Umbra tips his hat in acknowledgement.

“Then this should be simple,” he says, extending his hand. “Join us.”

Rathos frowns, eyes scanning the tent for… something. A plan of some sort, but nothing comes to mind.

“And if I refuse?”

Umbra cocks his head, and the shadows in the room darken as his domain spreads, the light from the candles quickly weakening.

“Then you die.”

“NOOOO!” Izabella squeals and rushes in front of her father with arms spread. “Don't kill him!” she cries.

“Damn it Iza,” Rathos says. He grabs his daughter by her dress and pushes her behind himself, “Stay back, I’ll handle this.”

“Handle me, will you?” Umbra says, the shadows quaking in the room as his domain takes hold further, “You are already caught within my shadow. Nothing can leave or enter. You have a choice to make, and you will make it now.”

Rathos hand tightens harder around his sword, hand going white as he is forced into a predicament in which he feels helpless. He ran away to escape these big players and kingdoms.

But, his daughter is with him. If he must become a slave for her to live, then so be it.

“I acce-”

Izabella speaks up. “Hey Aisha. I can't see anything. It's dark. Can you make it light?”

“Huh? Um- okay.”

Rathos senses it before he even sees it. A potent aura blooms behind him, the candlelight flashes as light fills the tent. The shadows crawl back and both Rathos and Umbra stare dumbfounded.

Aisha crawls out from under the table, an expression of concentration on her face.

“A classless child? With a domain? Impossible.” Umbra says through his body and not from the shadows. His voice is harsh and twisted, like nails scratching on a chalkboard.

But Umbra's surprise only lasts for a moment. With force of will, his domain, trained over hundreds of years, drowns the room again in shadow.

“So young and so gifted. It seems you are my antithesis,” he takes a step forward as blades of shadow form around him, “Unfortunately, your life also hangs on this man’s decision.”

With a flourish, Rathos unsheathes Joy and points the blade towards Umbra.

“Don't move,” he warns.

And, to his surprise, Umbra stops. The named being eyes focus on the blade in Rathos hand.

“A good blade, but it matters not.”

He steps forward again, more blades of shadow forming without a spell.

Rathos takes his stance, ready to use every skill he possibly can. His focus is solely on Umbra. Just one strike, a little nick and the blade should do the job.

Then the tent flaps open and a third domain pours into the tent.

_____________________________________________________________________

The Kitsune Matriarch walks with grace, every step flattening and hardening the ground beneath her feet. Her heels clack as she walks the earth hardened to stone. A smile is on her face as she enters the tent, her senses brushing against two domains, one controls the light, another that controls its absence.

The shadow domain grabs her attention. It is controlled, trained, and powerful.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting something,” Volpe says, her eyes finding the man wreathed in shadows.

“He wants to kill me!” Aisha yells and points. Her domain weakens as the girl loses her concentration, an understandable difficulty considering her age.

“Really now,” Volpe steps forward. Her domain expands and hardens with her will. Her eyes glow as she casts [Advanced Analyze].

Umbra Denos, the Suffocating Shadow

Level 327 [Shadow Sovereign]

She quickly recalls every bit of information she knows about the class. Skills, strengths, weaknesses. Overall, the class on its own can be countered quite easily, but a domain that summons an absence of light complicates things.

“Then I hope you understand that any aggression towards my protege will end in your death.”

Umbra stays silent, his shadows reaching towards the larger threat. He activates his own [Analysis].

Volpe Eludo, the Unending Storm

Level 375 [Elementalist]

And frowns underneath his mask. Her level is higher than his own, but that matters little after level three hundred. The problem is that he knows not what her domain commands. Even her title, the Unending Storm, gives him little idea.

Still, it is night and he is at his strongest at this moment. Few Named could overpower him during the dead of night, even with full moons.

He pushes himself further, his domain compressing and drowning out the light. “Retreat or die.”

Volpe snorts haughtily. Her nine tails starts glowing all at once. She holds out a hand, palm upward.

“Kids these days. For tutoring my students, I’ll teach you a lesson.”

A speck of light appears above Volpe’s hand. The light starts to brighten as her domain grows. Soon, the light is uncomfortable to look at and the shadows recoil. The light starts to rise, its heat palpable, its brilliance blinding. The shadows flee back behind and under furniture. The orb of light ascends, growing as it climbs. It burns off the roof of the tent and rises into the sky.

Volpe’s domain bursts forth, her eyes glow as she takes command of several cubic miles of ambient mana.

Then she funnels that mana to fuel her spell.

Her hand closes and points upward, eyes and tails aglow with power.

“[Coruscating Radiance]”

And the world goes white. The light from the massive orb turns night into day for dozens of miles around. In camp, even matte surfaces are impossible to look at.

Rathos shields his eyes, agog and aghast. Such a spell should require an entire army’s worth of mages, but Volpe did it on her own.

Umbra takes a step back, his domain and skills struggling beneath the inundating light that blankets everything.

He squints through the brightness at Volpe, the dark lenses of his mask inadequate before her spell. He sees her confident smile and mana wafting like water around her.

“This isn’t over.” he says. His body reverts into shadow and accelerates away in a hasty retreat.