Atop Blackwood’s battlements a purple quartz crystal began to luminesce, evoking a purple dart in the direction of the courtyard below.

“PORTALS!” Shouted Arlet, causing sixty men to leap forward, spears raised to counter the five flattening disks.

Liam raised his finger gun, mirrored by Nyota, Rhendal, and Soren, providing overwatch as five beings crossed into their line of fire. The furthest being from the line of magi was a sea gorgon, whose surrounding guards broke formation, allowing the sea gorgon to join her Queen, the Lady Stheno. Medusa’s elder sister, and the aquatic gorgon’s progenitor. Though they preferred to be called Naga.

With the sea gorgon’s portal resolved, Liam lowered his finger, holding his breathe at what the other four portals might bring. Five spins every half-hour, a gacha-gambler’s dream and my nightmare. Thought Liam.

Two hellhounds stepped through the nearest portals, stopped by six spears a piece, with their hind legs trapped in the portal. An ambushing tactic first perfected by Jenkins, when the portal eventually closed, it would sever their rear legs, cripping the hounds. Once they’d been hobbled, Niana’s hulks would make quick work of them, tearing them into kibble. One of the few tricks she had successfully taught the insectoid giants.

Rhendal let out a sigh of relief, dismissing his fireball into himself. Only two portals left in this wave… An easy spawning, to match the setting sun. As if to contradict his mind, the two remaining portals swelled, growing wider and taller than the three others combined.

The furthest portal smashed flat, vomiting a creature whose scaly skin, short arms, and enormous skull would’ve been a better fit in a ‘Jurassic Park’ movie. Liam’s jaw dropped, and Nyota recited the incantation of lightning.

“Pew.” She said.

A bolt of lightning zipped from her finger into the dinosaur’s right eye. It jerked, muscles tensing in a single involuntary leap. Its jaw snapped shut, legs buckling as it launched itself through the phalanx of ten spearmen, breaking half their spears and sending them flying. Many threw themselves out of its path, scrambling for their lives as spasms rocked the dinosaur’s body. While Dorian’s cavaliers emptied their wheellocks into the monster’s skull. Lead balls punched the last vestiges of life from the beast.

In seconds the hulks were upon the dinosaur. They removed its tail in three rough chomps of their mandibles, then the real carnage began as four of them tore into its legs and back. Their violence convinced Liam that the dinosaur –while similar to a Tyrannosaurus Rex– was something entirely different. Such as a Carnotaurus or Baryonyx. Not that the distinction mattered to Nyota’s lightning or to the hulk’s stomachs.

Liam swallowed, facing the last portal with a newly discovered terror. If dinosaurs, gorgons, and hellhounds were on the menu, what else could show up?

The fifth portal continued to swell.

All four magi raised their hands, readying for some new, inconceivable horror to appear next. A squad of ten royal outriders approached the final portal, cocking their wheel-lock pistols.

The portal towered above them, flattening into a translucent plate. Through which they saw a new bizarre being. Vaguely humanoid, yet entirely different. It walked forward, crossing into Blackwood Viscounty on four squat legs. Eight arms extended from its elongated torso, each holding a different weapon from daggers, to spears, to swords. Many were different, yet similar, mirroring each other across the body, a scimitar on the right, a longsword on the left, a conventional dagger on the left, and a punch dagger on the right. Oddly congruous yet completely different. To Liam’s eyes it appeared to be a brass statue, with no discernable life or soul. Utterly devoid of intelligence, save for the way it paused after exiting the portal. Closed eyes staring at the mercenary knights in front of it. Who backed away but kept their spears leveled. Usure if this bronze golem could be negotiated with, or returned to its home.

“Hello! Can you hear us?” Asked one of Blackwood’s few remaining men-at-arms.

This fortress had once contained two hundred of the armored infantry, but in the week since Liam’s arrival those numbers had been whittled away by desertion and death, falling to forty odd survivors. Money and coercion simply could not sustain the loyalty of mercenaries.

The brass golem made no response, though its head spun in a 360 rotation, revealing eyes on the back of its head. This funhouse action broke what little morale remained, and Blackwood’s man made the fatal mistake of poking it with a spear. Faster than if he had thrust a fork into an electrical outlet, the brass golem dismembered him. Four arms slashed, hewing his head and arms off, while the fourth arm thrust a spear into his heart. The violence broke Blackwood’s men-at-arms, and they scattered, even the men who were spear deep in the hellhounds started to wilt. Fading away from the golem with dug in boots, clawing against the mud to push themselves and the hellhound away from danger.

Ten outriders leveled pistols at the golem, blasting ten balls of lead into its back. Smoke clouded the courtyard, and the golem staggered forward from the blow, yet recovered instantly, his four legs turning the stumble into a step. Seven of Blackwood’s men attacked the golem together, dying almost instantly to the dervish of eight blades. None of their weapons could damage the brass that encased the creature, nor did their pleas fall on sentient ears. Whatever the creature’s purpose had been in its homeland was erased by the portal, reforged into a killing machine.

Lady Stheno hit the creature with an ice bolt, knocking it backwards, away from more human victims. Rhendal, Soren, Nyota, and Liam all hit the golem in unison, two balls of fire and two lightning bolts. None had any effect. As if the golem was made of solid brass and lightened by malevolence.

“Magic can’t melt metal!” Shouted Soren, aggravated panic creeping into his voice.

An armored hand fell across his shoulders, steadying him.

“Then conjure a pond to drown it in. Or mire it in mud.” Said Arlet.

Before any of Soren’s magi could respond, the hulks advanced. Two of them tried tackling the brass golem, losing two of their four arms. Yet that only spurred their kin onward. One of the hulks most disconcerting features was their penchant for cannibalism. No matter the cause, a wounded hulk would be set upon by the others, who tore it apart and fed. Blood only seemed to attract more of them, and soon there were six wounded hulks lying dismembered around the brass golem. And the twenty remaining hulks tearing them apart.

Their actions caused the golem to stand idle, its head spinning in circles as it seemed unable to decide whom to combat. Two of Soren’s men made the decision for it, they found their way between the hulks, placing both hands against the ground they channeled their mana, chanting spells Liam couldn't understand from his position atop the wall. Though he could sense their mana.

Power collected beneath the golem, altering the ground it stood upon, as their chant finished the ground liquified, becoming a five foot pit of lubricated mud. The golem sank like the eight tons of hatred it was, entombing its four legs and limiting the being’s arms. It extended all limbs in a circle, like a very angry bronze spider.

But the magi weren’t finished. Thereafter they began to chant again, this time encasing the golem in stone. Grass and dirt gave way as stones swam through them, piling against the construct’s torso and melding together.

Foolish hulks joined in, four more of the insectoid monsters losing limbs to the golem. However their sacrifice hadn’t been in vain, two of the hulks now stood atop the golem, a hand in each of their arms, with the brass horror’s lower arms trapped in stoney mud. One –the largest of the hulks– roared, placing a foot against the golem’s head and leveraging backwards, using the rear eyeballs as traction while it pulled two arms backwards. Metal screamed in protest as two golem arms were ripped free, crippling –hands down– the most lethal thing to ever emerge from a portal.

In moments the golem had been torn limb from limb, its head crushed by repeated use as a leverage point.

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To be safe, the magi melted down most of its legs and arms, leaving the weapons, mangled torso, one arm, and a single leg intact. Royal earth Magi encased the artifacts in quartz, keeping the still twitching limbs secure and intact. While the weapons gave them pause. Mana impregnated the bronze, and it was clear that the metal was stronger than steel, but none could guess as to what it was, or where it came from.

—

Another day drew to a close at Blackwood Castle with a red sunset swirling around the blood of another day. Liam’s generals gathered around him, adjacent to the gatehouse they used as a command post. Almost identical to their Sintran set-up.

Arlet, Dorian, and a number of officers from Blackwood’s forces sat to Liam’s left, tallying the casualties and arranging logistical orders. Whilst Soren and Rhendal slumped in their wingbacks, too exhausted to move. Six hourglasses of varying size covered the table between the magi, providing towers of interest between the sea of crystals and gems. Detection items that aided in guiding the mages to the portals.

“It’s conclusive sir, five portals spawn every thirty minutes. Strange that, since they slow to five portals every full hour overnight.” Said Arlet.

“That’s incredibly fortunate.” Said Liam.

“Bah! Tell that to Blackwood’s bellyachers!” Groaned Rhendal. “Those louts won’t stop begging us for protection spells, as if they had some right to our goodwill! I’ve half a mind to let them all die.”

Several knights nodded in agreement, entirely fed up with Blackwood’s so-called army. While the Blackwood Officers present tried not to make eye contact. They knew they had failed, and would have died several days earlier if Liam’s magi and army hadn’t arrived. Most of the mercenaries had already deserted, leaving Blackwood with a cadre of somewhat loyal, but imminently incompetent underlings, and the equally incompetent conscripts. Whom he hadn’t bothered to train on anything beyond marching and pointing the sharp end of their spears at the enemy. A folly that Jenkins and Arlet were quickly remedying, along with training the male felinids.

“Dorian and Arlet can deal with the conscripts, no need for us to rehash those plans. What I care about, is your missions.” Said Liam, turning to face Rhendal and Soren.

The magi turned to each other, then scanned the courtyard, careful to lower their voices so as not to be overheard by Blackwood’s men. Soren leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“We’ve… ahem… Requisitioned half of all food in Blackwood castle. Portalled it all back to Greenhaven for now, along with half of your– former slaves. Those who are too old or too young. Greenhaven will survive the winter, and starve come springtime. Mont St Michel will starve much sooner, but his Majesty came through, Sintra has enough food for a year and a half.” Said Soren.

Liam nodded, mentally calculating potential solutions. Rhendal’s portals were uniquely potent, making him wonder once again how the man was anything other than Aldric’s conspirator. Nonetheless, Rhendal’s loyalty was beyond proven, so Liam began to mentally calculate how much food could be moved from Sintra to Greenhaven and Mont St Michel via portal, but it wouldn’t be enough. Even if every mage escaped this siege unharmed, their portals wouldn’t be enough. Caravans would have to be employed, and those were contingent on King Aldric’s good graces. But why he was now aiding them when he was undoubtedly the source of the portal plague remained a mystery.

Kesky’s fate was still unknown, each of Rhendal’s peeping portals saw more stone statues but never people. Odd, but it proved people still lived in Kesky, even if they’d become fully nocturnal. Their farms were stripped bare, harvested in full, leading him to hope they were safe in some hidden cave network or long forgotten obsidian bolt-hole.

Sintra was receiving King Aldric’s aid, they would survive the winter, pending no more fire giants attacking or other cataclysms. Though Liam would have loved to see the look on Gaius Borgia’s face if another giant showed.

“Good, so long as we don’t starve tomorrow there is room and time to figure things out. Have we returned the daughters of Blackwood’s farmers?” Asked Liam.

“Yessir, save those who now serve as Blackwood’s new servants. It seems he meant to replace his slaves with conscripted daughters. As if his treasury could support so many paid workers.” Said Arlet, sneering.

Well, his treasury would have supported them… If we hadn’t liberated half his gold already… Ha, we even took the promissory notes! Though those are kinda worthless unless Blackwood dies and his castle melts or something or we ransom them back to Blackwood. Ah, still, things are finally coming together! That leaves Mont St Michel, Eldred’s raiders, and Pascal’s survivors. Thought Liam.

Rhendal guessed his intentions and cleared his throat. “Eldred’s men reached Greenhaven and conducted several experiments concerning Greenwood Keep’s exclusionary zone. It expands each day, and now the farmers can wander unmolested for five miles, resulting in an unfettered harvest.”

Liam exhaled deeply, leaning back into his chair. One more victory, they were finally on the verge of becoming food-stable. Not wealthy, and they’d be on half rations throughout winter, but they wouldn’t starve. Greenhaven finally had a chance at survival, the last goal of his life. Which meant Nyota would have a chance.

He glanced up at the growing purple disk, it had been visible for several weeks now. Yet it was still growing, still collecting energy from the surrounding world. Whatever monstrosity the portal summoned would have an inconceivable amount of mana behind it. Far more than all the magi’s staves and grimoires. Liam could feel the mana flowing towards it, and considered bending it to his whims. But that wouldn’t serve Therun Perun Taloc’s end goal, or fulfill Quetzalcoatl’s promise to him. That would require Baron Green’s true death.

“Ahem, Lord Liam, I have further news concerning Eldred.” Said Rhendal, keeping his voice low.

“Go on.”

“Since Greenhaven’s future is secure he pressed north, fighting his way to Mont St Michel. He reported no additional monster attacks until he reached the city. Where he found a band of roving hulks. They followed an especially large specimen and patrolled the city’s exterior, killing and eating everything in sight. Had Eldred’s scouts been lax in their duties he might’ve lost every raider in his company.” Said Rhendal.

Oh great, so now we have more carnivorous elephants besieging Mont St Michel of their own accord! Just what we needed! Thought Liam.

“No matter how large their dicks are, they’re still insects. And I ain’t never seen an insect survive snow. Mayhaps they’ll journey south or we’ll find their frostbitten cocks-roaches this december.” Offered Jenkins, leaning on the brass golem’s spear. It was a potent weapon, able to sever steel yet no heavier than a standard spear. Despite its bronze appearance.

“But we can’t portal through Mont St Michel’s walls, so they’ve effectively blockaded the city. I guess a peeping portal can be used to find them, and we can portal in behind them, but that means we’ll have to move quickly and maintain small bands, which are vulnerable to hellhound predation and whatever else shows up.” Said Liam, his eyes wandering over the golem’s encased organs.

Quartz, clear as glass and harder than stone surrounded the few remaining bits. Trophies for the college to study later. Or parade in front of the king as arcane mysteries that deserved greater funding. Like a glass trophy case…

An idea struck Liam, so painfully obvious he felt stoopid for not thinking of it sooner.

“Soren, can any earth affinity mage create quartz crystals like this?” Asked Liam, knocking on the golem’s prison.

“Well, yes, though the volume of quartz created is directly proportional to the mana input, and clarity is dependent on the mage’s control of the mana’s flow.” Answered Soren.

Rhendal chuckled, all too familiar with Liam’s strange questions and sudden sparks of modern brilliance or idiocy.

“Could you create panels of quartz? I mean, thin sheets of quartz that could be overlapped to form a rooftop?” Asked Liam.

His question furrowed a dozen brows, except Phaedra’s, whose wheezing hiss hinted at understanding.

“It would take Saul and all of my earth affinity magi several days to accomplish such an extravagant task, but it could be done… But, I fail to understand what a glass roof would accomplish… Its not clear enough to truly map the stars, and large sheets would be somewhat fragile. The decadence alone–” Soren scowled as if he licked a lemon, “Why? We can’t eat sunshine.” Answered Soren.

“Plantss love ssunsshine.” Laughed Phaedra. “They eat ssunlight, you eat them.”

“Exactly! Soren, it’s hard to explain, but quartz sheets, or glass sheets of very specific thickness can be used to heat a house’s interior. You’ll have to find a way to seal the gaps, but once completed the light will permit plants to grow even in the middle of winter! Uhm, when light goes through glass it… uh- look, just trust me, it heats up and kinda converts the sun’s light into warmth. Think of it like taking the mana out of light affinity and converting it into flame affinity. The conversion amount is directly proportional to the thickness of the glass. So you’ll have to build a few small test houses and experiment.” Said Liam.

Soren’s brows became a thick caterpillar, knitting together in confuddlement. “Where in the world–”

“Look! It works, I’ve seen it work. They’re called greenhouses!” Said Liam.

“Green’s house? Should you really be putting your name on a quartz house? Seems a bit… hubristic, lord Green.” Said Rhendal.

“No! Not Green’s house! Greenhouse! Because it lets you grow green things in the snow!” Said Liam.

“Wouldn't a hot box, or sun roof, or summer house make more sense?” Asked Jenkins.

“Call it Soren’s summer vacation roofs for all I care! Just make it happen! Once you retreat to Mont St Michel you’ll have to shelter there, this is the only suggestion that’ll keep you from starving to death.” Snapped Liam, entirely fed up with the circus.

None of the general’s, from Nyota to Dorian, missed Liam’s use of you instead of the proper –royal– we.