The wagon sped through the wilderness, leaving trails of dust behind it. It was pulled by a pair of cutlings, of all creatures. Dallion had coated the harnesses with aether, making sure that the creatures wouldn’t destroy any part of the wagon. At the same time, they could freely run through trees, rocks, and any other obstacles on the road. And of course, there was the threat of Nox should they try to get out of control.

“Nice gear,” Pan said. The copyette had the spitting image of the merchant that had initially taken Dallion to Nerosal. Only this time, the wagon was full of weapons and ammunition.

“Thanks. Eury made it for me.”

The copyette whistled.

“I know, I’m a lucky guy.” Dallion laughed. “I just hope I reach the capital on time.”

“I’m doing the best I can,” Pan grumbled. “It’s bad enough we took this shortcut. The death rate along here is thirty percent.”

“It’ll be fine.” Dallion tapped the hilt of his harpsisword.

“I’m counting on that. What’s the good in earning a huge profit if I’m not there to enjoy it?”

“I hear you.”

So far, they had been extremely lucky. There hadn’t been a single cloud fort the entire trip. If things continued like this, they would be at their destination in half a day, safe and sound.

“Keep on driving,” Dallion turned around. “I’ll check the cargo.”

“Right. I’ll yell if something pops up.”

Carefully, Dallion moved to the back of the wagon. Wooden crates were everywhere, each with a mark of a waxing blue Moon. Dallion opened one. Rows of orange crossbow bolts lined the crates. They looked normal to the naked eye, yet Dallion knew that they weren’t just bolts—they were rockets.

What the heck? He froze.

All this seemed too weird, as if he was experiencing déjà vu. No, not déjà vu; it closely resembled a few dreams he’d had years ago. The wagon, the weapons, the conversation with Fatun—although in this case it was Pan with Fatun’s appearance… Everything had been part of his dream, only slightly different. For one thing, Eury wasn’t with them in his dream.

“Everything okay back there?” Pan asked.

“Looks like.” Dallion placed his hand on the top of a crate. “All fine on your end?”

“Not sure. Clouds are gathering. It’s too far to tell if they’re aiming for us.”

“Keep on going. If we run, they’ll just chase us. Maybe they’ll take us for ordinary merchants.”

“Ordinary merchants,” the driver repeated. “I used to be that once, before you got me involved in this. Too late to back out now.” He laughed.

Dallion glanced towards the front. Only a crack of the sky was visible, but enough for him to see the threat Pan had mentioned. Dozens of clouds were forming, all converging on a single point. An army of furies was gathering.

“I should never have built the rockets,” Dallion whispered.

It was too late to do anything about it now. There was one glimmer of hope, though—the clouds were white. All crimson furies belonged outright to the emperor and had a few special skills.

“Do you want me to call Dark?” Euryale asked, moving closer.

“No.”

If it came to a confrontation, there would be no winners. Even if the trio destroyed the armies with their skills and part of the weapons they were carrying, in the long term they would only kill off their own forces. The goal of this suicide mission was to gain enough allies to stand against the Order and the nymphs.

“Gleam,” Dallion summoned the spectral shardfly from his realm. “Can you mask us well enough?”

If they’re only furies, sure. The creature fluttered around his head, her size reduced to that of a normal butterfly. If there’s something else, there might be problems.

“Gem, help her.” Dallion summoned the aetherfish. “And be quick.” He hesitated. “You can use a fragment of the dragon heart. Not a lot, though!”

Yes, boss… the glowing jellyfish said, then followed Gleam out in the open.

Dallion had gone through a lot of pivotal moments before, and just like them, the success of this attempt would change the course of history. It all depended on whether the imperial furies had been sent for him, or were merely creating a large perimeter around the capital. There was every chance that a few of the Order’s copyettes had helpfully shared a thing or two regarding Dallion’s plans.

“That’s what he wants me to do,” Dallion whispered.

“He planned on letting you go?”

The concept was in the realm of possibility. The void had worked for the archbishop before. Who was to say that it still wasn’t? Having two threats at the same place at the same time would be a tempting prospect, as would be having them fight one another. Most likely, the archbishop was hedging his bets.

I must help out, Dallion thought placing his hand on the wagon floor.

The moment he felt Gleam start her illusion spell, he joined in with one of his own, only using a substantial part of the Moonstone. At his current level, he was skilled enough not to waste the entire thing, but even so, he was fully aware of the possibilities lost with every second. There would still be enough for him to create another gem, as well as the promise he made, but it would be cutting it quite close.

The cutlings slowed down. They had taken on the form of average horses, so now they had to have the behavior to match. If the cloud forts had noticed the sudden change, they hadn’t reacted to it yet, moving in the wagon’s direction like a storm.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The minutes dragged on. All three otherworlders were ready to enter combat at any point. Should they see the slightest hint that their deception had failed, they’d have no choice but to strike first and as hard as possible.

Nearly twenty minutes later, the first cloud structure was almost above them. Thanks to the Moonstone’s boost, solid matter was no obstacle to Dallion, letting him see the magic threads within the cloud with ease. The fort had thousands of furies, ordered in the same fashion he himself had established during the vortex fields battle. He was certain that dozens of the occupants were communicating with their counterparts via echo items—conversations that had every chance of being listened on or faked. A few battle mages were also there, their bright purple glow distinguishing them from all other living entities. If anyone would see through the illusion, it would be them.

Calmly, Eury opened one of the crates and took a few bolts out. If it came to the worst, she wouldn’t hesitate shooting through the flimsy wooden roof at the forts. The power would be more than enough to erase it from existence in the second greatest fireworks display the world had seen in centuries.

“Would you look at that,” Pan said, engaging in his Fatun persona. “Didn’t think there’d be so many of them here. Do you think the Azures have gotten this far?”

“No,” Dallion replied, using his music skills to modify his voice. “Someone would have heard about it.”

The fort kept on floating by. Based on their reaction, they didn’t find the wagon suspicious, continuing with their original orders—whatever they were. However, that was just the first one. There were hundreds more.

It was said that anxiety and boredom were opposites. Once in a million, a situation would arise in which both emotions would team up together in a symbiotic relation. This was one of those times. Dallion couldn’t wait for this to be over with, yet still feared being engaged at any moment. Despite his measured consumption of the Moonshard, a quarter of it had been shaved off. There was every chance that at least as much would be wasted again once they got in view of the imperial walls.

“It’ll be fine,” the gorgon whispered.

The last of the forts had passed over, continuing their flight south. With luck, in a few minutes, there’d be no need for Dallion to maintain the illusion spell. In half that long, Dallion took a risk and ended his involvement. It wasn’t so much his fear that he’d use up the Moonstone, but the dull pain throughout the body. Putting so much effort in maintaining a spell of that level remained exhausting even for the second highest awakened in the world.

“They’re gone,” Eury said, taking a discreet peek from the back of the wagon.

In response, Dallion merely sat on the floor, his back against a stack of crates.

“How long before we reach the capital?”

“At our current speed… a few days,” Pan replied. “I’m joking. We should be there in three or four hours.”

“Head for the overseers’ sector,” Dallion reminded.

“You’ve told us three times already.

Ironically, that was the weakest part of the city’s defenses. Ordinary awakened, and even nobles, wouldn’t dare venture through an entire neighborhood of city overseers. Beyond the one hundred level, though, it would be no different than fighting off a swarm of wasps—painful and dangerous if one was not careful, but nothing that could stop anyone from going through. Most important of all, the area wasn’t considered part of the city domain. The overseers had been granted a modicum of autonomy, allowed to spend their everyday life in private in exchange for the centuries of servitude they had vowed to their ruler. It was after the initial breach that things would get complicated. All bladerers and metalins would swarm the trio the instant they went through the city’s domain barrier, followed by all battle mages and legionaries that could be spared.

“I’ll have a nap.” Dallion closed his eyes. “Let me know when we’re close.”

“Sure.”

Initially, Dallion thought Eury had replied. Moments later, he became aware of the obvious vocal differences. Reaching out to summon his harpsisword, Dallion jumped to his feet, only to find himself in a modern dorm room.

“Jumpy,” a youth dressed in a loose green shirt and a pair of baggy jeans remarked. The being had taken on the appearance of a college student, but there could be no doubt that he was the Green Moon. “Literally.”

I’m sleeping again? Dallion looked around. Without a doubt, he was out of the wagon and in a college dorm room—his dorm room. It had been a while since he’d had dreams of this sort. There was a time when he’d pray to the Moons every night to have them. Now, the sensation filled him with fear.

“You were pretty tired,” the Moon replied. “Out like a lite.”

“What did I do wrong?” Dallion asked.

“So negative,” his “roommate” said, then smiled. “Good. It means you’re learning. But no, I’m not here to give you some ominous warning, just to wish you good luck.”

Dallion narrowed his eyes.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you’ve reached the endgame. You can’t imagine how long it took for everything to get here. Millions gave up along the way, and here you are. That’s why you’re one of my favorites.”

“And the archbishop? Was he one of your favorites as well?”

“Simon is an entirely different story I can’t get into right now.”

“He has the empathy trait.”

“All four of you have all four traits. That’s one of the requirements for getting here. It doesn’t guarantee anything, but you can’t manage without it.”

“So, this really is a game for your amusement…” To his own surprise, Dallion didn’t feel any anger or spite. Even the fear had vanished, as if he had come to the acceptance. “The Jiroh in the awakening trial was right.”

“Make it to the end and you’ll find out.” The Moon laughed.

“Felygn, wait! Tell me—”

Dallion tried to take a step forward. Upon doing so he found himself back in the wagon, sitting as he had before falling asleep.

“Don’t be nervous,” Eury said. “We’re almost there.”

“I’m not,” he lied. He could tell that there was some unspecified danger linked to the whole thing. “I’m thinking of the leveling up.”

“Eager to become a world ruler?” A cluster of Eury’s snakes turned in his direction. “Don’t be. Things only get more complicated.”

“At least I won’t be stuck dealing with the minor things.”

“If you’re having difficulty with the trifles, how will you handle the really important things?”

Dallion had no answer to that, not that it dissuaded him. If he became the sole power in the world, he’d no longer have to run around serving anyone. Becoming a new player was much better than remaining the leading piece.

Outside the back of the wagon, two Moons appeared on the horizon. One was the Green Moon Dallion was following. The other one had a pale yellowish color he hadn’t seen before.

“What’s that Moon?” Dallion asked.

“Felygn,” Eury replied without even turning around.

“No, not that. The other one.”

The comment got a quick reaction. The snakes on the entire back of the gorgon’s head stretched out, looking at the horizon for several seconds.

“There’s just one Moon,” the gorgon replied with a sigh. “Dal, did you skip sleep again?”

“I slept,” Dallion lied. And still, he could see two Moons, one of which wasn’t supposed to exist.

“If the Star was a Moon, maybe the sun could be as well?” he asked out loud.

In all the scrolls, it was written that there were Seven Moons and twelve suns, which represented constellations of skills. Yet, if that was the case, what did the real sun correspond to? It wasn’t mentioned anywhere. Could it be the lost Eight Moon? Or maybe it was the new Star—the scorching, merciless ball of power that burned everyone that tried to get close to it?

“Just hang on a little longer,” the gorgon said. “Once this is over, we’ll be able to get some rest.”

I’ve seen this before, Dallion thought. Only slightly different.

The archbishop hadn’t been lying when he’d said that prophecies weren’t unique to him. The difference was that Dallion had only realized that once, his vision of the future had come to pass. Now, just as before, he had no clue what the outcome would be.