Greetings, mortals! I thank you for coming to listen to my tale. It is not some grandiose adventure, filled with stories of knights, princesses, and dragons. No! It is a humble story. How I, a small ruler of a nation-state began my meteoric rise in power through a series of oddly-timed coincidences and hilarious political tomfoolery that lead to my ascension. The tale of how I went from King of my small land, to the Emperor of the continent, to God-King-Emperor of the world! How a normal mortal transcended from those pathetic, fleshy forms you reside in, to a being of such immense power that I hold the Earth in my grasp. Nations quake at my steps. The clouds part for my arrival. The oceans don’t dare lap at my feet for fear of being boiled away!

This, my subjects, is the story of how I became a God!

…

Sorry, what was that, Basil?

…

Wrong story? Are you sure? I thought we were—

…

But… No, I wanted to tell them—Ow! Don’t bite my ear! Fine! Fine. Apologies, I got the stories mixed up.

This is the story of how I… Basil, are you sure I can’t tell them about the other one? It’s far more interesting and—Ow! Fine! Get off my shoulder, you little bastard. Bite my ear again and I’m not making you meatballs for a week.

…

That’s what I thought. This is the story of how I, a humble ferret breeder, defended my homeland from legions of invaders, with the help of my lovely little weasel companions. How we turned the tides against the conquerors and became victorious. A tale of bloodshed! Of action! Heroism and friendship! How the land of Odd became more than just some silly little nation; more than just an afterthought of the world! How I, the Great Magnus Ferreticus, managed to single-handedly—Ow! Fuckin’… I told you not to bite me! What—No, I don’t care that it wasn’t my ear! Get back here you little bastard!

~{O}~{O}~{O}~

My name is Magnus. Magnus Ferreticus. Silly name, but it was given with purpose. You see, I was given my name by my parents… like everyone else. But! The last name is important. It holds meaning, and history, and allows people to know who you are and what you do in just a single breath. In my case…

I was a ferret breeder. Like my parents…

And my grandparents…

And my great-grandparents…

And—

Well, you get it. My family bred ferrets. It wasn’t some big noble lineage like my neighbours across the river. Those pompous buffoons with their big castle towering over us, blocking out the sun from hitting our farm. Damn Lancelot’s and their stupid successful name. Their great-great-great grandfather just happened to be some skilled athlete in archaic weaponry, saved a few kingdoms, and suddenly they’re all important. They even have a moat! It’s absurd. Being showered in praise just because they pump out mythical heroes at nearly the same rate as our farm does ferrets. The horny inbred bastards…

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Ferrets? Those tiny little cat-snakes that smell funny?” Yeah, those are the ones… Kind of. The one’s you’re thinking of are the ones that exist across the seas, in the boring land called Mundania—or so the translations say. No, here, in the land of Odd, our ferrets are a little… different.

To start, they’re about three feet tall at the shoulder, and usually are about ten feet long, give or take. Yeah. They’re big. They’re also smart. A little too smart if you ask me, but are still obedient if you take care of them. Also, they don’t smell! It’s a wonderful little change my family managed to breed out of them generations back. Ferrets are basically the workhorses of the land of Odd, and I mean that quite literally. They pull carts, haul machinery, carry people around, and much more.

Despite being so necessary though… Caring for these adorable cat-snakes is expensive. So much so that even with the finances given to us by the Kingdom to produce quality animals, we still barely break even. That’s on top of the sale of these wonderful creatures to royalty across the land, and the multitude of job sectors they work in.

Now I can already hear you asking how they get so big. Hold your ferrets, I’ll tell you. See, the land of Odd is… well… Odd. Very much so. Your feeble minds are likely unable to comprehend how our continent works, so I’ll do my best to simplify it for you.

Magic.

There. Easy!

…

Alright, fine. I wasn’t lying about the magic thing. But it’s a specific set of rules that apply. Earth, water, fire, air. Four elements that make up everything within Odd. I mean everything. Plants are just a specific combination of earth, water, and air magic. Electricity is simply a perfect combination of fire and air magic, the two energies swirling to carry immense amounts of heat along the air currents at blistering speeds. That system applies to everything.

Bricks? Earth and water magic, then formed with fire magic. Paper? Well, paper is formed from plants. Plant magic is that simple combination of earth, water, and air. Combinations of magic lead to more magic. More and more combinations and fine-tuning can lead to truly wonderous marvels of civilization.

This is also how the ferrets managed to reach the sizes they do. Living beings can harness these magics and use them at will. Some people imbue staves and wands with magic, using them to cast spells and use flashy abilities. Others will store specific recipes in books, and read aloud a combination of words that referred back to the four main elements.

All magic worked like that. Regardless of how deep into the combinations you went, whether or not you had something as simple as “earth bending” or as complex as “cheese magic” all things boiled down to those four main elements.

Instead of doing something cool and useful that would have made me popular in magic high school, my family put their magic into… ferrets. Don’t get me wrong, I love the things, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder what in the world my ancestors were thinking, infusing the elements of the world into those war-dancing weasels.

Still, it allowed us to reach this point. We were the backbone of the economy, and it was a thankless task being a ferret breeder. The earth magic-infused ones grew larger than most. They were often used in the physical labor of the Kingdom, digging trenches, hauling carts, or pulling farm equipment. The water-infused ones worked on farms and alongside rivers, purifying the waters and ensuring crops could grow. Fire-ferrets worked as both guards and energy generation, boiling water produced by water-ferrets to turn turbines. Finally, the air-ferrets helped purify the air, direct wind currents, or turned windmills. Truly, these creatures were versatile.

However, I didn’t believe we were using them to their full potential. Remember earlier when I mentioned that people used specific combinations of magic to create new magics? I was fascinated by the idea. I wanted to cross and combine ferrets and see what kind of insane magical creatures we could produce.

My parents unfortunately put a stop to that before I could even begin. They called it dangerous. Unethical. A calamity waiting to happen. An abomination to the very ideals of what we stood for. A disaster so horrendous that the very fabric of reality would be torn apart by our own hands and shredded by our quest for greater power.

I thought they were overreacting.

However, they prevented any experimenting that I would have wanted to do. It’s kind of hard to breed several dozen weasels with one another when they’re separated into quarters around the farm, with magic-laced steel that prevented even the most determined ferret from digging through it.

That was… until they died. It was tragic really. At least my parents died the same way they lived. Ferrets.

…Yeah, I’m not exactly too sure what happened to them, not gonna lie. I think they were cuddling a fire-ferret when the poor weasel sneezed. All I could find out there was a smoldering crater and a traumatized-looking ferret, surrounded by a circle of the cat-snakes just looking into the crater with wide-eyed expressions.

That left me alone in charge of the farm. It would have been difficult for almost anyone else, but I’d been doing this since I was born. So, at twenty-two years old, full of curiosity and a need for more information, I took control of the farm and got to work.

The first months were the most difficult, adapting to the change and the loss of my parents was hard on everyone. The poor creatures around the farm sulked a lot, and refused to eat for a little while. They spend time curled up in cuddle piles, avoiding food. They would avoid me as well, as if they were afraid of hurting me.

Of course, I changed their minds when I grabbed one of the liquid-like noodles (in the case of the water-ferrets it was all too accurate), dragged it out into the middle of the pen, and flopped down on top of it. It squeaked and scrambled and tried to avoid me, but I remained stubborn. I cuddled that fluffy little fuck like the world was at stake.

Later, I would realize that it was indeed at stake. But that’s a story for another time.

Following that moment of forceful struggle snuggles, the ferrets around the farm grew a little more relaxed. I made sure to give them all extra attention and love and pets, or give them a few extra treats when they were more sociable.

After a month, things were back into full swing at the farm. But, there was still that little lingering thought at the back of my mind. A little ‘what if’ that poked and prodded at my subconscious, haunting my dreams with possibilities.

Eventually, I gave in. I took one of the kinder fire-ferrets, and introduced him to a wonderful lady air-ferret. They weren’t too sure what to do with one another at first, but, nature took over, like always.

The result was… not my greatest idea. A lightning-ferret was born. The little fucker was fast. Too fast. Its parents couldn’t keep up, and it took cooperation from all sides to contain the little bastard. Eventually, he kind of grew out of his zoomies phase. He was a smart little guy too. He knew there wasn’t anyone else like him on the farm, so he stuck to me more often than not.

Naming him Sparky was probably a crime against ferrmanity, but he responded to it well. Once I realized that these combinations were possible though… Well. I didn’t take the discovery lightly. Looking back on it, I might have gone a little overboard when I had the ferrets coordinate an assault on the metal walls separating their quarters of the farm.

But hey, it worked! Shredded, melted, smashed, and cut steel littered the farm. I collected the metal with the help of the ferrets around the farm and piled it all up in the center. It was meant to be a placeholder until I could get someone from the Kingdom to collect it and give me some money for the material.

Unfortunately, a specific earth-ferret had other plans. He was on the slower side of intelligent ferrets. I named him Grugg, but the name came later. He was such a sweetheart, he just had trouble understanding things sometimes. Luckily he was always helped out by the others, the whole community was a wholesome population working together.

Unfortunately, when everyone was asleep, Grugg, the earth-ferret, decided he was hungry and wanted a snack. He was on the larger side for a ferret, so I didn’t blame the guy. But…

He ate it all. All of the metal piled in the farm enclosure. There wasn’t a scrap left. I decided to name him Grugg when all of the other ferrets on the farm gathered around him, staring at his happily snoozing form in sheer horror.

Of course the guy was fine. He was a tank, and I mean that literally. Someone from the Kingdom came by and took a photo of him, so that his big muscley ferret self was displayed in the dictionary alongside the word “tank.” Suddenly, I had people banging on the farm door trying to buy him. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take the guy form his home. He’d be so lost and sad, and the others would have been devastated.

So I kept him.

And then… the horny little bastard had kids. A lot of kids. With multiple lady ferrets, the lucky bugger. I don’t blame the guy, but I wish he would have given me time to prepare for the absolute clusterfuck that would come.

His kids with the earth-ferrets were steel.

His kids with the water-ferrets were liquid-metal.

His kids with the air-ferrets were aluminum.

His kids with fire-ferrets were molten metal.

Suddenly, things had gotten out of hand very, very quickly. I was starting to see why my parents had warned against this. Still, I hadn’t done anything illegal. There were plenty of magic cross-breed animals kicking around, so I wasn’t in danger of anything.

Following that though, the ferrets on the farm kind of looked at me a little oddly. As if I were leading them a path they couldn’t see the end to. But they were excited about it. The smart weasels tried to communicate with me in their own way.

It started off with absolutely terrifying war dances. Hopping side to side, arched up, claws out and snapping playfully. The sheer terror on my face led to multiple other ferrets beating the war-dancing one over the head with Grugg, the poor guy.

But, eventually, we established proper communication. Pictures were used to communicate intent. Symbols representing elements or depicting ideas were drawn out and scratched into the dirt. It was weird how smart they were. They were never really given a chance to express themselves and learn before.

So, I taught them. The ones that wanted to learn anyways. I also gave Grugg colouring books and his excited little squeaks and hopping movements earned me more goodwill with the ferrets.

It had been three months since my parents had passed by that point, and the farm was more lively and joyous than it had ever been. The cat-snakes I raised, fed, and taught were focusing more on their magics than on playing around or having kids. This meant that the output of ferrets to the Kingdom dried up.

We lost money rapidly.

So, without money to feed them, I kinda sorta… maybe… let them out into the wilderness to get their own food… I’m not proud of it, but without money, I couldn’t exactly feed them like I wanted to. I had angry farmers knocking at my door, telling me they saw some freakish ferrets feasting on their fowl. They couldn’t pin any blame on me though. There was no evidence left other than their word, and the occasional feather a ferret coughed out.

It may be important to note that magic ferrets mature quite quickly. They’re fully grown and intelligent after roughly one month. It was owed to the magic populating the land and infusing their beings.

This meant I didn’t have to wait around for long to continue the experiments. The best part was, the war-dancing weasels were in on it. They had seen what new and weird combinations they could make with one another. Since it was my idea in the first place, they started coming to me. They’d bring up potential partners, and I soon found myself playing ferret matchmaker with the entire damn farm.

It was hilarious, in all honesty. I was matching up ferrets based on personality, traits, magics, and other factors, including just making sure that they liked each other. They may not have legally been classified as people at the time, but dammit they were important people to me. There was a whole underlying society to the absolute chaos, and I could make sense of it all.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

I had abandoned regular society at that point. I was too invested. We were all too invested.

The six-month mark was when things began to get crazy. One of the steel-magic ferrets had started playing around with his magic. Building little blocks, or metal balls that he and the other ferrets could throw around. That was when I had my most brilliant idea at the time.

I gathered everyone’s attention on the farm. I directed their gaze to the towering castle across the river. I told them that, if they wanted to, they were free to create a structure that would put the Lancelot’s Castle of Incest to shame.

The absolute flurry of activity that spurred from that one command actually terrified me. I was in the middle of all the chaos, massive rushing bodies flying around, zipping to-and-fro around the “farm.” It couldn’t even be called a farm at that point. It was simply a cluster-fuck, and I the conductor of this hilariously uncoordinated assault on common sense.

At this point, multiple months in, we had many types of ferrets. Too many combinations to list them all. There were nearly a dozen types of metal ferrets alone, with some metals that shouldn’t even exist being harnessed by the weasels. Plant and fire-ferrets combined to make spicey-ferrets of all things. Water and fire made steam, and then steam combined with lightning to make flying-ferrets! Living metal ferrets from plant and liquid metal. The combinations were in the dozens now, with many more on the way.

The weasels, in all their magical, wiggly glory, had decided to make a castle. I had expressed my disdain for the massive (and clearly undeserved) structure blocking the sun from our farm. So, they went to work. Within hours, massive steel walls were erected, towering multiple stories into the sky. Wooden platforms were brought into existence with a flex of will. Windows carved out in the thick metal brought in sunlight we could finally see.

The ferrets, in all their mischievous glory, took a glance at the moat around the castle across the river and collectively decided they could do better. When I woke up the next day, after having been cuddled to sleep by nearly three tons of fluffy ferret fur, and pulled myself out of the pile, I had to take a moment and really process just what the fuck I had unleashed upon this world.

We had a moat of molten lava around the castle. The structure had been made in less than a day. The sheer excitement and enthusiasm of the community were put to work building and creating, and the result was nothing short of fantastical.

Tall golden spires glimmered high into the sky, those wedges reflecting the sun in the most dazzling ways. Copper and burned titanium metal accented the windows and doors. The walls were made of a foot of solid steel, and they were covered up by a layer of stone, giving the castle a classic and regal look. Our damn drawbridge was made of living metal, that shifted and rolled whenever anyone stepped on it.

It was glorious.

And… maybe also really dangerous. The living metal moat was keyed in to only let specific people enter and leave. I was fine. All the ferrets that lived within were good to come and leave as they pleased. However…

The Kingdom lost three mailmen that month before they learned to start leaving the packages with the guard ferrets dripping with molten metal. We didn’t get any visitors after that.

Surprisingly though, even with all their powers and abilities, the ferrets looked to me. They saw me as a teacher. A friend. A parent. I had a hand in raising them after all, and was older than all of them.

What a fucking stroke of luck that was.

Following my leadership, the castle continued underground. Massive, sprawling tunnels that were more reminiscent of an ant farm than a ferret farm crisscrossed underground. These complex structures were easy to get lost within, but I was never alone at that point. I always had someone with me, be it a guide, or a guard, or anything else.

Still. The experiments continued.

Two things happened at the one-year mark that lead to a shifting in the balance of power across the globe.

The first thing that happened was the land of Mundania declared war on Odd. Some king insulted some senator’s wife, who had a dog who’s cousin was the pet of the Grand-Emporers daughter. So, naturally, the “Big Nose Insult of 977x” had spawned a catastrophe of impossible proportions. Mundania’s technological marvels combatting our magical wonders. It wasn’t a war we were winning by any means.

The second thing that happened that year? The birth of my best friend.

By this time the ferrets had taken up underground vertical farming. They were growing minerals and mystical metals to sell to the kingdom, and we were raking in cash. At this point we likely didn’t even need the gold-ferrets due to the cash flow coming back in. I would negotiate with the Kingdom and various royalties and act as a representative of the ferrets, and then they would go out for however long was needed. They always came back.

During this birth of a new civilization, there was another birth taking place. I still am not too sure just who the parents were, even now, years later.

All I can clearly remember of that day was panic. Pure chaos. The ferrets were in a frenzy, and not one of them could stand still long enough to draw or write out why. It was too urgent. There wasn’t enough time. I found myself being swept away in a wave of fur, gentle claws, and concerned squeaks. Medical supplies were shoved into my hands, and I was ushered into a side room.

By this point, the mother had already died. Most of the kits had died as well. There were two left, and by the time I had reached them, only one remained.

He was so small. Unnaturally so. Compared to the much larger forms of his brothers and sisters, and that of his mother, the poor thing was barely big enough to fill my palm. His breathing was weak, and he was shivering.

So, I did what I could. I took all those years of feeding and nurturing and caring for the loving ferrets, and applied it as best I could. I called for magical supplies, living metal tools that healed. Food laced with magic plants that encouraged regeneration. His heart stopped three times that night, and I brought him back every single time.

It took almost four hours, but he was finally stable. The little white creature lay curled up in my palm, sleeping deeply. I held him to my chest, keeping him warm and safe, secure.

When I stepped out of the little side room, I made sure to try and block the view of the bodies behind my smaller form. I tried to turn their attention away from death, and instead to the new life brought into the world. Into their family. The unusually tiny body of their new brother held in my hand, and alive because of my abilities and care.

That night was a solemn one. The hundreds of ferrets were withdrawn that night. Reserved, quiet, contemplative. It took me a moment to realize that in all their time of living, they really hadn’t experienced the world like this. Everything had been perfect for all the new ones. The world had been one of excitement and exploration. New wonders and abilities and friends and experiences.

Death was new to them too. They didn’t enjoy it.

I slept in the castle courtyard that night. So did all of the others. A wall of fur and flesh surrounded me and the small life I held in my hands, keeping everyone warm and safe. They were protective, defensive, and I didn’t blame them at all. There were many tear-stained cheeks that night, and more than once I was awoken in the night to see a large form hovering over me protectively, doing its best to keep the much weaker human and infinitely frail being in my hands safe.

It took about two weeks for things to return to normal. It also only took two weeks for the small ferret I carried around to grow strong enough to walk and wander around on his own. I kept him with me initially, just so that he wouldn’t get lost under the tides of feet and claws and fur that filled the tunnels and castle walls.

When the little guy wanted to explore, I let him out into the courtyard to properly meet the others. It was a wonderful time in the castle. The community was invigorated. There was someone new with them, and they were different. They were interesting and exciting.

The little guy was smart, too. For all the excitable interactions with the other cat-snakes, the little snow-white ferret clung to me more often than not, resting on my shoulder or crawling around inside my shirt, getting comfy, warm, and safe.

I’ll never forget the day I named him.

It was a month after his birth, and the inside of the ferret community was a little more quiet than usual. Remembrance of the first real tragedy that had struck the community. Myself and the snow-white ferret were being given little things. Flowers, small rocks, shiny gems, and metal flakes. Grugg had made a very lovely lump of rock to give to us, in the vague shape of a heart. I thanked him and gave him a hug, and the poor ferret had to be led away by the others, the big softy crying his eyes out in sad squeaks.

In an attempt to cheer up everyone, I was trying to make a meal. Several of the more dexterous ferrets were in the massive underground kitchen with me, following my movements. I was just making something simple, really. Something mom used to make me all the time when I was younger that cheered me up. Just a simple spaghetti dish.

The cooks watched me and followed along as I did the best I could to recall the recipe. Unfortunately, I was distracted. I’d had a headache all day, and it was growing worse with every moment. I was struggling, and the others could tell, but I waved them off. I should be able to at least make food and teach the others something simple.

Still. That pressure in the back of my head made my vision swim. I struggled to recall the recipe. It was almost done. I just had one more thing to use. Just to top everything off. What was it? It was on the tip of my tongue, but this buzzing at the back of my head made it impossible to think.

The pressure in my head grew further, and I stumbled back, vision going dark for a moment. There were concerned squeaks and I found myself being steadied with large paws and gentle fur. It was all I could do to hold on, clenching my teeth, fighting through the building pain.

I thought I was dying. The feeling screamed in the back of my mind, drowning out all other senses. More and more of the sentient mustelids surrounded me. Big concerned eyes, frantic squeaking, and scrambling surrounded me.

Then.

Basil.

It was gone. The pressure. The pain. The agony and screaming in the back of my head. I blinked, and the world felt clearer than it had in years. I shifted and glanced up at the other ferrets that were cradling me, frozen in their movements.

You’re forgetting basil.

I glance to my right and see none other than the snow-white ferret I had saved staring at me. His tiny form looked unconcerned with what had just happened as if it was all unimportant.

Then, came the questions. The concerned squeaks and curious noises and the frantic footfalls of dozens more of the weasels as they streamed into the room. So many voices, and questions, and curious words all flitted around the room.

I could understand them all.

Basil was the name I gave the ferret that day. The little guy was instrumental in progressing the society that lived within the castle. I could hear them all. I could understand them. I could see what they saw when I focused. I could feel what they felt. I could talk to them, anywhere, all because of little Basil sitting on my shoulder.

I may have spoiled him that day. That week. The rest of the cat-snakes were no better, all kind of confused and in awe. It was apparent it wasn’t only me that had experienced some sort of change. There was an awakening within the walls of the castle. Everyone became aware. Even Grugg, the big lug, was more self-aware and careful in his movements.

They understood more. They learned faster. They grew quicker. The progress of society froze for all of three hours. All the working mustelids across the Kingdom grew quiet. They continued their work but without a sound. They were contemplative. They knew.

I very quickly found myself at the center of a sprawling network of minds. The middle of an entire Kingdom of creatures with elemental abilities that would challenge some of the grandest wizards on the continent when applied properly. Sure, humans could harness magic.

My ferrets?

They were magic.

Things returned to normal relatively quickly. For the most part, nothing really changed. We had new minds included within the network, sharing thoughts and secrets and information that people thought no one would be able to understand or learn of. But I did. We did.

Unfortunately, we didn’t have long to truly think about what this new development meant for us. For the individuals, or for myself. The community within the walls of this massive castle, and this sprawling underground network hundreds of miles long, had been too withdrawn from the outside. We hadn’t been paying attention to the events outside the borders of Odd.

The war was upon us.

It had snuck up on us far too fast. The people that knew about the war effort were quiet about it. No one knew how bad it was. We were losing. Badly. The Mundanians had crossed the ocean and were on our shore. They had already blazed a trail of destruction through the continent and were on their way toward the capital. The central Kingdom.

We sat in between the approaching army and the central power of the continent. The Kingdom had already expended all of its weaponry and powerful magic on the war when it first started. It was a decisive move, really. Hit them with everything they had at once, and send them packing.

It didn’t work.

We had less than a week before the armies would be upon us. We had to prepare.

The ferrets began to panic, and their worries all rolled through me at once, through the companion that was Basil. The little guy took it in stride, comforting me with cuddles and little squeaks, and reassuring the others that we would figure things out.

I certainly hoped we would.

So, we got to planning. We had all these powerful beings at our disposal. They had managed to make a castle in a day or two while being uncoordinated. Like they are now… Like we are now? We would win, I had no doubts.

Traps were laid. Mountains were built up in the distance and pulled closer together to make an artificial valley leading toward the Kingdom. Holes were dug, with layers of wood that had structural weakness. They would collapse when a significant number of people crossed. Below those traps? Living metal lakes, ready to spear, spike, melt, and absorb anything we didn’t want to survive.

Backups were made. We held several key members in reserve in the off chance things went wrong.

When the day finally came, I stood atop the pinnacle of the tower with Basil, gazing out at the horizon, and the wall of smoke that was the approaching army. Just as I prepared to launch the initial attack, I was interrupted by the sound of a loud horn.

The Lancelots. Those fucking inbred mercenaries dropped the drawbridge to their—much smaller—castle. The whole family ran out, holding swords, shields, lances, spears, and a variety of magic-imbued tools. When I say whole family, I mean whole family. Grandpa hobbled along, walker in one hand, sword in another. The cousins/siblings charged forward, screaming slurs and obscenities in the name of their family. Grandma had a lance installed on her wheelchair and was rolling forward as fast as her son could push her.

They ran toward the valley. They passed over the traps we had laid. They rushed straight at the approaching army without fear like true heroes.

Like true dumbasses.

I looked through the eyes of one of the earth-magic ferrets that was buried in the sides of the valley, observing the invaders and relaying information to everyone.

I saw what war reports had called a tank roll forward a little ahead of the charging foot soldiers. The barrel rotated and locked onto the charging heroes, not even halting in its forward rolling movement.

It fired.

The Lancelots were nothing but paste scattered across the floor of the valley after that. Unfortunately, that shot had punched a hole into one of the traps we had laid, exposing the pitfall into furious living metal for the approaching army to see.

Those inbred idiots. Glad they’re dead, honestly, doing the world a favour.

The approaching army spotted the pitfall, and immediately changed course, making their way along the sides of the valley, avoiding the center of it in fear of more pitfalls. The army extended far into the distance, billowing smoke and flames, crawling across the landscape in a horrifying torrent of metal and death.

I waited.

They crept closer.

We waited.

They were almost at the edge of the valley, the tank turrets turning toward the castles that stood between the army and the Kingdom.

Now!

Two dozen water-ferrets surged forth from the tops of the valley, hurling their way down toward the unsuspecting army. Immediately bullets started firing, and I could feel the hits to the war-weasels. Those small metal things weren’t doing too much damage, but damn did they hurt.

The tank on the other hand…

A single shot turned one of them to a red smear, quickly swept away by the approaching tidal wave of water from both sides. I watched as the tsunami of water lead by the water-magic users crashed down upon the army from both sides. Everyone and everything in the valley was immediately swept away and funneled into the center of the valley. The pitfall traps broke, and they were sucked into the traps. The living metal thrashed and thrived, consuming the bodies that were swept into it, and eating away at the massive metallic shells of the tanks that fell victim to the magics. The water-ferrets were fine, of course, save for the one.

The first wave was defeated.

Unfortunately, the army split. They were moving up the mountains now, not through the flooded valley. Sparky gave a sad little sigh at not being able to fry those invaders. The plan had been to send him in when they were soaked with water. With a mental command, I sent him and two of his companions forward a little anyways. The pure joy that radiated from the ferrets was mildly concerning.

I looked up and watched as lightning bolts fell from the sky, hitting the army in precise locations. Every vehicle hit with the magical attack exploded in a ball of flame, sending metal and troops scattering across the burning plains. One after another, rapid, heavy strikes shook their lines and destroyed the heavy artillery.

I grinned as I watched Sparky and two others zip in and out of the army, moving too fast to track. Hit after hit, explosion after explosion. The chaotic little shits were giving them hell, and the troops couldn’t do anything about it. Panicked shots sounded out, and bullets hit one another in friendly fire. It was hilarious.

After nearly a full minute of the frantic magic abuse and charge, the lightning-magic users grew tired. With one last surge of energy, the hyperactive ferrets launched themselves back to the top of the slopes of earth and away from danger.

Several earth-ferrets opened up the ground beneath Sparky and the other two, allowing the electrically charged monsters of fur to stumble their way back into the tunnels for a brief rest.

With that portion of the advanced strike team worn out, it was time for phase two.

Grugg stood atop one of the artificial mountains, his fur flowing in the breeze (helpfully supplied by an air ferret) as he gazed upon the approaching army fearlessly. On the opposite side stood five others, tensed and ready to move.

With a heave, Grugg lurched, and the top of the mountain began sliding. The five on the other side did the same, and two massive slabs of dirt and rock began their tumble to the approaching armies already climbing up the mountains.

They stood no chance.

The earth-ferrets all slipped back underground long before hitting the troops, leaving only the invaders to get buried in a pile of rubble. Bodies were turned to mush under the onslaught of trees, rocks, and earth, halting the approach of the army for a brief moment.

We weren’t going to give them that moment.

Basil relayed my next command.

I grinned as I watched the earth ripple and shift, the entirety of the remaining earth-ferrets digging beneath the feet of the invaders. Following along with them were dozens of magma, fire, ash, and metal ferrets. I staggered as the ground shook, the castles shifting and swaying a little from the pure surge in magical energy being unleashed.

The earth at the center of the army erupted into the sky. Literally. A massive mountain rock shot straight into the air, growing larger and wider. Smoke and steam and fire licked at the top of the sudden volcano that exploded into existence in the middle of the army.

I decided to take a page from the Kingdom. Their shock and awe tactics hadn’t worked. That doesn’t mean ours wouldn’t.

The world exploded into a cacophony of sound and light. The volcano erupted, sending rocks and debris scattering far into the sky. Pillars of flame spewed from the top, only to curl around like violent and vicious snakes, barrelling toward the invaders without mercy.

Waves of humans were turned to char in a moment, the fire magic burning away at their flesh and armour. The magic serpents that slithered their way straight out of Hell turned around and snaked their way up the volcano once again, before diving back in for a second round.

Those massive chunks of rock and metal that had exploded from the top shifted and adjusted while in mid-air, the magics manipulating their trajectory. Without warning, their speed increased ten-fold, the massive meteors streaking to the world with a horrendous screech.

Every impact of rock and metal shook the earth, sending people on the opposite side of the plains to their knees. Every impact hit harder than the last, spurred onward by building magic power. Mushroom clouds rose into the air after every impact, and the craters gradually formed further and further back. Tens of thousands of people killed in mere moments.

Every heavy meteor strike was like the gods delivering judgment upon the invaders. Nothing was safe. No one was safe. There was only death, despair, and carnage waiting for the aggressors.

I gave the final call. The armies were already running. Might as well finish what they started.

The air, steam, fire, ash, magma, and earth ferrets that weren’t completely drained of energy surged forth from the top of the volcano. Powerful winds swept up around them all, spiralling high into the sky. The smouldering cloud of debris and superheated ash began to get sucked downward.

The tunnel of air vacuumed the dense, deadly ash around behind the volcano, and then whipped it forward, much like those firey snakes earlier. However, at the base of the volcano stood the glass-ferrets, waiting for the ash to pass by. They heaved, and a wave of glass shards erupted forth from the ground.

The heavy wave of ash, rock and steam swept over the brittle glass shards and shattered them. Those razor-sharp missiles careened toward the retreating army, carried on a wave of death. Any screams that were let out were muted by the sheer force of material sweeping over the remaining humans attempting their escape. Hundreds, thousands, fell in an instant, bodies pierced with thin shards of glass, boiled by the steam, crushed by the rock, or choked in the ash.

I stood tall for a moment, waiting for the smoke to clear. I could feel the exhaustion of my war-weasels; the poor things were absolutely drained. I was hoping that it was over. I could feel Basil duplicating my sentiment, the snow-white ferret squinting, searching through the eyes of the others that remained near ground level.

The smoke and debris fell, settling upon the world like a soft blanket of death.

Nothing was left standing.

The invading army had been defeated. Crushed by my hands. By our hands… paws? The specifics didn’t matter. We won. We succeeded when all others failed. The magics that we possessed surpassed that of even the Kingdom. We were the most powerful group on the continent!

I yelped when Basil bit my ear, and swatted at him a little. The amused sensation rolling from him was spread amongst the whole community. Squeaking laughter erupted around us, the silence of the battlefield quickly filled by the relieved and exhausted sounds of my family.

I leaned my head to the side a little, pressing up against Basil, and joined in their laughter.

Now I knew why mom and dad said never to combine the ferrets.

~{O}~{O}~{O}~

And there you have it. My origin story. My humble beginnings. The wonderful start to what would be an incredible upward ascension in power. My ferrets, my family, growing, spreading, and learning. We could go further, grow stronger, and fight harder. We would be unstoppable! We would take over the world! We would become—

Ow! Why the fuck—No! Don’t bite me again! I’m being dramatic, I’m not evil! Friggen little—

Ack! Basil! Knock it off! Your teeth hurt, you little shit. Do you want me to get Grugg in here to babysit you? I will!

…

Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that? Ah, no, hey, don’t suck up to me, that’s not allowed. Just because you’re all cute and fuzzy doesn’t mean I’ll snuggle you…

…

Okay fine. Fine! I’ll cuddle you, ya goofball. Just no more bit—hey! Don’t bite!

…

Yeah yeah, love you too…

Alright, that’s all. Go on, shoo. All of you. My story is done, get outta here. That was how Magnus Ferreticus and the Wonderful Weasels of Odd came to be. It’s over now, so get outta here. It’s spaghetti night, and I wanna have a nice meal with my family.

Maybe next time I’ll tell you about my ascension to God-King-Emperor— Ah ah ah! Basil, don’t even think about it!