Whole regions of the world were turned to glass or slapped by devastating waves. All three pretenders immediately responded to Dallion’s territorial push. The suspicions of his war council had proven absolutely correct. Once the war started, it was exceedingly difficult to keep on growing. The territory Dallion had obtained had been substantial, yet he had lost almost as much in the following actions. While he had retained all of his settlements, glass craters had emerged in several areas, mostly points that bordered the Tamin empire.
Massive areas of coastline were also devastated by waves as the ocean pushed to expand. Although he didn’t see the full picture, Dallion was left with the impression that, other than him, Tiallia had gained the most. The Order had quickly retreated, severing the links between its domains. That was the problem of a vast observation network: they were capable of dealing with any single threat, but not all threats at once.
In response, the archbishop wasted no time targeting a large number of easy targets. Dallion’s capital had also suffered a near miss. It was only thanks to his rocket crossbows that he had managed to evade a repetition of Jio Province.
DOMAIN INVASION
A red rectangle flashed in front of him.
“The emperor’s pushing east,” he said in his war room.
“How?” Hannah asked. “There were a dozen patrols in that area.”
“No idea. I didn’t sense a thing. It might have been from the air.”
“I’ll check it out,” Diroh suggested eagerly.
No sooner had she done so than Adzorg floated to the fury and placed both of his hands on her shoulders.
“Let’s not get carried away. For all we know, the emperor might be leading the charge.”
The explanation was plausible enough to have the fury reluctantly reconsider. Dallion felt the disappointment and determination stream from her. She had improved a lot since Dallion had brought her from Halburn, making the jump from non-awakened to a level sixty far faster than him. Sadly, that was where her limit had kicked in. Even with Skye’s help and all the artifacts in Dallion’s possession, she’d be unable to become a domain ruler.
“I don’t think it’s the emperor,” Dallion said. “It might be his dragon.”
“The Great Dragon Aurun,” Hannah said in reverence.
“Looks like I’m not the only one with a dragon,” Euryale said, more in reaction to the former innkeeper.
“It'll be a Moonless day when you can compare yourself to the emperor and his legendary dragon, girl,” Hannah snapped. “The historical records said that he achieved victories in half the continent. If he’s gone back to that, not sure even you can step up to him.” She glanced at Dallion. “You’ll have to start a game of cat and mouse. Since you can’t win against his dragon, you have to capture everywhere he isn’t.”
“Theory’s always good,” Pan intervened. “But I doubt he remained on the throne for so long by leaving things to chance. Despite the losses on the ground, Tamin still controls the skies. Not to mention that he still has a few capable archdukes. You’ll have to deal with them before making any gains. And remember, you also can only be at a single place at once.”
“What if his echoes level up?” Diroh asked, full of eagerness once more.
“They aren’t my echoes anymore.”
The tone was soft but clearly conveyed Dallion’s disapproval of using the term. Gen, July, and Ariel were their own entities now and while they gladly agreed to help out however they could, they weren’t to be used as Dallion’s stand-ins.
“They’re human now,” Adzorg explained to his fury pupil. “And, like you, not otherworlders. Although easier, leveling up still comes with its challenges. There’s a reason that we must only level up once per day.”
The fury said nothing.
The phase of mass destruction continued for days. Other than the devastating waves and rockets, little else took place. Even reconnaissance was limited to specific key spots throughout the continent. By this time, everyone had picked up the habit of keeping their settlements in constant motion. People were indeed the key resource in a painfully pragmatic way. And while Dallion was pleased a lot of them were kept safe, the mere thought that they were viewed as numbers in an experience bar gnawed at him more and more, appearing in his nightmares.
Often, he would catch himself hoping that the Moons would step in and stop all this, but they never did, remaining in the sky day and night, watching the destruction beneath. Deep inside, he knew that it was a barrier he had to push through, but with each day his heart tightened more and more.
Only Euryale knew his burden, and just like him, she couldn’t share it with anyone else. Even the appearance of uncertainty in either of the ruling pair would only bring more harm. As a means of countering it, they would spend a moment every day within a realm, away from the chaos that surrounded them.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” Pan managed to catch one of the few instances in which Dallion was alone. “You know it’s better than any alternative, and still part of you isn’t certain it was all worth it.”
“I get the feeling you’ve been through this before.”
“Oh, yes.” The copyette made its way next to Dallion.
The bubble surrounding the city was crisscrossing his wider domain faster than a flying arrow, and yet no matter how far one looked, all they could see was a perfectly static background which had always been there. Even that was an illusion.
“Chainlings have been flowing into the wilderness again,” Pan continued. “Only in the destruction zones for now, but they’ll start spreading.”
“That will make claiming land more difficult,” Dallion said as an afterthought.
“Not for the moment. Even voidlings fear power. Eventually, there will be enough of them to merge together and go on a rampage. Then someone will have to step in.”
Usually, it was the Order of the Seven Moons that would do so. Unfortunately, the Order had suffered the greatest number of losses. Jeremy, Dallion, and Tiallia knew enough about the archbishop to be afraid, so they took every chance they had to diminish his power as much as possible. Dallion had taken the east forest, the emperor had razed any shrine and monastery that remained within his territory, as for the nymph empress—she was continuously transforming the west coast of the continent into an archipelago, systematically destroying every army of war priests she came upon. Whatever alliance had been between her and the Order was long forgotten.
“The south and the north remain unoccupied,” Pan said. “No one sees them as viable. That only leaves the ocean.”
“I can’t fight her on her territory. You saw what happened last time I tried.”
“Your level was a lot lower then. Besides, you’re still the underdog. The Order was the main threat, so all of you combined your efforts to cripple it. Now that it’s done, the empire and the nymphs are the front runners. You don’t need to defeat the empress, just engage enough of her forces. The emperor would do the rest.”
“What makes you think he won’t go after me?”
“If he thought you were a greater danger, he would have done so. All attacks so far have had a double function. The Order’s rockets strike areas between you and the empire, the emperor targets coastal areas, and the nymphs for the most part are focused on areas that are contested between you and the Order.”
Dallion let out a deep sigh. It was a strange blessing being the weakest.
“The ever-shrinking prize,” Pan said all of a sudden.
“What?” Dallion turned towards the copyette.
“That’s what I used to call it. The more you fight for the world, the less of it is there. The only thing that keeps you going is the hope that once you’ve won, you’ll get to become a Moon and fix it all.”
That was very much what Dallion was hoping. If he turned out to be wrong, even the winner wouldn’t amount to much.
“You’ve seen a lot more than you’re sharing, haven’t you?” Dallion asked.
“Yes, but I can’t tell you any of it. Not yet.”
“I can only learn what I already know. I never liked that rule.”
“It has its downsides, but in the long run it’s a good rule. If I’d really known what it was to be a domain ruler when I awakened, I’d have created a lot more chaos on my way to the top. As would anyone else.”
“Yeah. Probably…” Dallion looked at the horizon. A chain of mountains was visible in the distance—the same that had been there for thousands of years. In a blink of the eye they were gone, replaced by a view of the ocean. “You’re wrong about one thing,” he added.
“What exactly?” Pan laughed.
“Attacking the ocean isn’t my best bet. I can still claim the south. Maybe even the north.”
“How? That won’t bring you more people. And even if you claim a bit more territory, you’ll need to take the forces from somewhere, which will invite everyone to fill the void.”
“Why are you convinced I can’t find more inhabitants?”
“Please tell me you’re not thinking of speed breeding.”
“Huh?” Dallion trembled. There was something in that combination of words that made the phrase repulsive.
“Move people back into the swords, leave them for a day to breed, then return a few new generations into the real world. For one thing, it won’t work, for another, that would definitely be breaking a Moon law.”
“That’s not what I had in mind.”
“What then?”
“Shardflies,” Dallion whispered. “I’m following the path of empathy. Who’s to say that only people can be my subjects?”
For the first time in a very long while, Pan was at a loss for words. Technically, there was no rule against it, but it still felt unrealistic.
“If it were possible, the dryads would have done it.”
“Dryads didn’t have to resort to that. Besides, I’m not talking about using them as weapons, but having them join me.”
“You’ve done some crazy things, but this… shardflies?”
“They are destructive. Besides, they were brought into this world, same as us. And…” Dallion opened the palm of his hand. Gleam and Ruby emerged. Both were in largely diminished sizes, remaining there like delicate butterflies. “I have the perfect means to convince them.”
It took less than a moment for Dallion to emerge in the southmost part of his domain. After the fight for the Learning Hall, this was where he had agreed to send the creatures. It remained uncertain how willing they would be to have anything to do with humans, but as things stood, they were Dallion’s best bet.
The standard pair of shardflies were capable of laying close to a thousand eggs once per year. In normal circumstances, about a tenth of those would survive to adulthood, after which they’d fly out on their own, becoming the territorial monsters they were later known to be. Yet, the colony Dallion had sent here was anything but standard. Brought to this world by magic, they had become used to sticking together and—when needed—fighting together. There was a good chance they had increased their original number tenfold, provided the other monsters of the fallen south hadn’t done anything about it.
Please tell me you’re not thinking of making me royalty. Gleam fluttered in front of Dallion’s face.
“I thought you enjoyed having power.”
I enjoy having power and freedom.
Fluttering beside her, Ruby didn’t say a thing.
I’ll help you find them and help convince them to listen to you. What you do after that is none of my business.
“Still itching to fight a dragon?”
Wouldn’t anyone? You’re not the only one who’s grown. It’s time I showed the world what I’m capable of.
Ruby extended his wings, giving them a razor-sharp edge.
Yes, you too, Ruby, Gleam said. While undistinguishable to most, the ruby shardfly had managed to mellow her out a bit. It helped considerably that he himself had gotten stronger.
Taking a step forward, Dallion cast a spell that lifted him into the air. The rest of the search he’d have to do flying and hope that no one decided to send a rocket his way.