Loretta searched the Manor with Henrietta, meeting Liam in the grand entryway, a polished oval room with grand staircases curving around the walls and an overhead map of Vere inlaid into the marble floor. It really was fascinating what magical construction methods could do. Far surpassing even modern stoneworking or laser engraving, since the houses were laid out in a three dimensional view and fused below a layer of quartz.
“The Marquis isn’t here.” Said Liam.
Henrietta looked down, unable to look him in the eyes.
“Where is he?”
“I- I- don’t know.” Muttered Henrietta, her eyes flicking to a place on the floor.
Her deception was obvious, but Liam didn’t have the fortitude to torture Velena’s baby sister. For all his bluster about leveling Vere, it was a critical trade hub between Greenwood and the elves. Vere needed to stand, and he was not so shortsighted as to cut off his ears to spite the humans. He rubbed his brow, unintentionally following her gaze over the city.
“Ah, how obvious.”
Henrietta’s gaze was staring at the central ziggurat. In the floor engraving the city of Vere was distorted somewhat, vaguely curled into the shape of a skull, with the central ziggurat acting as a nose and the other two looking like eyes. Yet, there was the icon of a key just below the central ziggurat and the symbol of Vere –a sort of fruiting laurel– sat atop the central ziggurat’s crystal. Liam’s eyes scanned the floor, memorizing every detail of the sculpture and nodding his head as his fears were confirmed.
“Loretta, do not stay alone with Henrietta. It seems she made a deal with Hades rather than Taloc. Unfortunately, those two are one and the same.” Said Liam, spinning on his heel and flying out an open window.
There wasn’t time to walk.
Wind whistled around him, a bug splattered against his cheekbone, only to be washed away by the wind. In seconds he was hovering over the central ziggurat, finding a full company of men at arms arrayed around the tower. While similar to the others, this ziggurat had one extra step, a full step, making it slightly wider and taller in every way. Subtle, yet impossible to miss now that he saw it. More than that, there were concentric squares around the tower, as if some god had created them to fold and rise, like a stone accordion. Playing the city like Hades might play bagpipes.
“Damn desperate fools.” Muttered Liam, flying over the men at arms.
A magi held out his hand. “In the name of Marquis Vere, I order you to stop!” He shouted.
“In the name of Taloc, I order you to get lost!” Snapped Liam, literally slapping the mage out of his way.
The blow sent the man tumbling, with at least a broken cheekbone, if not a broken mandible. But Liam only thought it was his knuckles popping, and entered the ziggurat’s front door.
“Ah, I hate this part.” He muttered, expanding his mana sense throughout the tower.
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A thousand consumed souls cried out in pain, reliving the instant of their petrification a millennia earlier. Agony powered the crystal above, human emotions providing the constant and heavy flow of power. Ambient mana would not be enough, not to fill the crystals and keep them firing during a war. So Calypso had invented a new way of storing mana. By trapping living beings in stone. Immobility had long since driven the personalities within insane, they were so far gone that Liam dared not release them, for fear of creating new monsters in the afterlife. Twisted intelligences that Pandora would no doubt send against him again.
But there was one living soul within the tower. It stood alone in an alcove on the highest floor, mana gathering around it in a thick cloud. Liam ran up the stairs, not willing to risk flying through a stream of concentrated mana that was being extracted from the half dead. In fact, he avoided the central shaft entirely, as if hydrochloric acid was geysering up it.
By the time he reached the Marquis, it was already too late. Far too late. His skin was entirely stone and the man was drained of all bodily fluids, nothing more than a desiccating husk. Liam sent a healing pulse through the man, waiting til the results reached his mind before sending a pulse of earth mana as well. He was three fourths petrified, feeding mana into the tower. Doomed to suffer sentient paralysis until the tower crumbled around him and the Marquis’ body was ground to dust.
“Damn, that’s some commitment. Why the hell would you abandon Velena if you were so determined?” Said Liam, beaming the words into Marquis Vere’s mind.
“Because I wanted her to live. To be safe.” Were the Marquis’ last words.
After that, his mind slowed, and Liam did not trouble him with holy whispers any longer. As no part of him remained organic. The process had likely taken hours, meaning he had come here while Liam was still napping in the orchard. Rather than face his city’s destruction the Marquis faced eternal –or so close that it didn’t matter– suffering.
“Fine, your city will be spared.” Said Liam, heading down the stairs.
He found the mage and men at arms waiting at the entrance, unwilling to enter the tower. One flick and the mage was healed, getting the man’s attention as only unexpected kindness could.
“Marquis Vere has committed suicide to atone for the crimes of Vere. Do no more evil, because I doubt there is anyone else so noble left within the city.”
“Ah, uhm, yessir.” Someone said.
Liam didn’t bother looking for the speaker, he was done with this city, and flew back to the manor. All was left to Henrietta, Loretta, and Oliver. Come what may, that trio was now the ruling body of the city. Any problems would be their responsibility to solve.
Except Velena, who was high on Liam’s list of auditors for the city. Let the bastard they sold as a slave judge them.
The next dawn saw the crystal teardrop headed northward with a new string of dark cities stretching out below it. Raina was intelligent, a genius in her own right, but she didn’t care for humanity much, and her maps were centuries out of date. A problem that was solved with Loretta’s assistance, as she provided maps and a new route.
All subtlety or nuance was forgotten. Liam needed Nyota. Five years apart from her was too long. So he took the most direct approach. Fly directly over the city shooting bolts of lightning outside windows, land, issue the local noble his demands, and then meet with the local clergymen. Unlike the nobility, the church was already fully compliant, with half the cities already hosting a paladin legion who shared Liam’s goals. The legions were a pleasant surprise, and all leapt to obey a vaunted Lightning Lord, while nobles often hesitated to upset the status quo. Liam had no more time to waste on them, so he was direct with his orders, brooking no exceptions. If the nobility complied, then Liam would patrol the city from the air, slaying scores or hundreds of the monsters in a divine culling.
If the nobility failed to comply. Liam interrupted their excuses with a second warning.
“One day I, or another Lightning Lord will return to this city. If we find you lacking, you will learn the indescribable suffering that woe means. There will be no more warnings.”
Then he left, flying north until he reached Talocandel, and found twenty one legions waiting for him.