"We understand, believe me," Mike and Eric were standing next to each other in a loose circle of ten other men. "It's just a matter of gathering and allocating resources," Mike gestured towards one of the men who was missing an arm. "You can get by with a single arm a lot more easily than someone in a chair," he explained, "I wish I had three hundred million mana crystals on hand; if I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Eric promised that we'd be made whole," a man with two prosthetic legs said firmly. "He said it would take time, but you're talking about us having to wait for months, maybe a year," he shook his head. "The only difference between here and back home is that I had the internet back home. I'm still sharing space for five other guys, and I'm still crippled."
"It was now or never," Eric replied. "We had a very small window in which to operate. If the government had discovered what we were doing, they would have locked us down, and who knows when, or if, you would be healed." He shook his head, "I know it sucks, but we've got fifteen thousand guys delving eight-hour shifts. That number will grow as we complete Dungeons on the plateau, but for the moment, that's what we've got to work with."
"Look," Mike sighed, "here's the math. We're pulling a bit over six hundred thousand crystals out of the Dungeons every day, which, I know, sounds like a lot. But we're also burning three hundred thousand crystals a day to keep everyone fed, watered, and not frozen. We also have to pay our taxes, which is a nice flat ten percent, which we even we can figure out with whatever crayons we haven't snacked on." Mike waited for the chuckles to die down. "That's another sixty some odd thousand, leaving us with about two hundred and forty crystals. That's two thousand four hundred people regenerated each day. The only reason we were able to get all the critical cases done that first night is because Bob made some damned good friends when he came over, and they donated three million crystals."
The circle fell silent for a moment. Everyone had seen Bob casting regeneration rituals. No one knew how ritual magic worked, but they'd seen three hundred men and women, locals, rotating out in hour-long stints, while Bob just kept going, ritual after ritual, hour after hour. The man even had a CamelBak and hadn't stopped until the last critical patient was safe.
Mike stifled a smile. Bob wouldn't appreciate it, but his legend was growing, and reminding these men of the sacrifices others had made was a good way to quell some of the complaints.
"The fuck is that?" the man missing his arm blurted, pointing toward the sky to the west.
Mike turned, and his jaw dropped. "Shit on me," he muttered, then shook his head. "That, gentlemen, is the King of Greenwold. It seems that he's become aware of our presence and has come to pay us a visit."
"Is that a fucking Dragon?" the dual amputee asked in disbelief.
"Didn't you tell them?" Mike asked Eric.
"It didn't really come up," Eric offered weakly.
"Well, shit," Mike said eloquently. "Spread the word, double-time, If I remember correctly, he's awfully damned fast."
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Kellan rode the currents as he casually winged his way toward the new encampment on the glacial ice. He wanted to give the new refugees enough time to appreciate the power and majesty of his true form. He couldn't rely on everyone having Bob's sagacity.
As he neared his target, he took a moment to appreciate just how organized the people from Earth were. He'd wager part of his hoard that the shelters they constructed were all within a claw of exactly the same distance apart. They'd laid out a grid compromised of smaller grids, larger shelters in the center, with a truly huge shelter in the very center. It was beautifully symmetrical.
Kellan winged over the encampment, then did another pass at a lower altitude. He could sense Mike's mana signature in front of the largest shelter. Making one more pass, this time at only a few hundred feet, he finished his circuit directly above what he was mentally referring to as the command shelter, where Mike was directing men who were rushing about, quickly taking down some of the surrounding shelters to ensure Kellan had enough room to land in his true form.
He smiled, his draconic nature rumbling proudly as the lesser creatures scurried to show him the respect which was his rightful due. Mike was another who seemed to instinctively grasp the reverence he required. That he was leading this group wasn't likely happenstance and an excellent signal that Earth's population could recognize natural talent. He'd been disappointed in their secretary of defense.
Kellan hovered over the landing spot that was being prepared and decided that as he had the attention of the entire encampment, he might as well use it. It would only serve to bolster his authority and raise Mike's profile at the same time.
"I am Kellan Garvardes, Defender of Greenwold, Blessed of Vi'Radia, Sovereign of the Skies," he roared, "on behalf of my Kingdom, I welcome you to her soil, may you always find shelter from the Shadows in Vi'Radia's blessed light."
His heart sang as he watched the people on the ground struggle to maintain standing under the physical and magical power of his voice. That so many remained standing, with the rest struggling to their feet afterward, told him all that he needed to know. These were warriors.
"We have been informed of your plight," Kellan intoned, "seen as tools, cast aside by your government when you were no longer useful." He shook his head in a massive show of understanding, the gesture necessarily exaggerated so that everyone could see it. "We were most disappointed when your government delivered their tithe, a full thirty-four million mana crystals, and we discovered that of the three hundred and forty million crystals they kept for themselves, not one was to be directed towards restoring you."
He watched and listened, seeing the displeasure on their faces, and hearing the unhappy words they muttered at his revelation.
"Our emissary for your people, Robert Whitman, called on our citizens to aid you, and they rose to the occasion, providing over three million mana crystals," His voice boomed out over the encampment. "Bob has proven himself to us time and again, and his plea for aid will not go unanswered."
Kellan took a deep breath, pausing to revel in the joy of the moment. Then he breathed fire into the sky, slowly turning a circle until a ring of Dragon's Flame formed a circle in the sky above the camp. He could feel the heat warming his scales.
"You will find shelter under my wings. I will collect no tithe from you until each has been made whole again. Further, I will donate the thirty-four million mana crystals your government has paid me to hasten your recovery. Delve safely and well, secure in the knowledge that you are not alone in your struggles. The kingdom of Greenwold stands with you, while Vi'Radia illuminates your path."
Tying off his Dragon's Flame with a persistent effect, he landed in the space that had been cleared for him, taking a brief moment to bask in the awe he could sense radiating from the humans that surrounded him. He then shifted back to his human paragon form, quelling the sense of unease caused by reducing himself thus.
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The command tent would need to be much larger to allow for his true form.
"Mike, it's a pleasure to you again," Kellan smiled down at the man.
"Your Majesty," Mike bowed low, showing the proper respect so lacking in his nobles. "On behalf of everyone here, I would like to thank you for your incredibly generous donation and your benevolence in delaying your tithe," Mike began, still bowed. "Rest assured, we'll work tirelessly to gather the crystals needed to restore everyone."
"Rise," Kellan commanded with a smile. "I'm both surprised and dismayed that your government has treated you the way it has. In their place, the restoration of loyal warriors would be my first priority," he proclaimed loudly.
He caught Mike's grimace, and his smile widened. It was so much more fun to play the game when there were others to appreciate your skills. "Why don't we head into the command tent, and you can take delivery of the Mana Crystals," Kellan suggested.
Mike nodded stiffly and preceded him into the tent. "That was very well done, your Majesty," Mike said once they'd entered the tent. "In one moment, you reinforced their resentment of their government and demonstrated your own benevolence and kindness, as well as your incalculable power."
"And yet you seem somewhat out of sorts," Kellan noted.
Mike frowned and shook his head. "I appreciate what you just did more than I can say," he began, "but I'm worried about your end game."
Kellan chuckled as they reached the center of the tent. "I'm certain Bob knows, and I'm surprised he hasn't told you or that you haven't determined it yourself. I want you to stay," Kellan stated. "Your people are beyond driven, displaying a degree of cooperation that I've never witnessed from my own. While I'm certain that the majority of your people will return home after the threat has passed, I would be remiss not to add as many of your people to my hoard as possible."
"That's what I'm afraid of, your Majesty," Mike replied.
"Why would you fear it?" Kellan asked curiously. "Am I not a better alternative than the bloated bureaucracy of your government? I ask little of my subjects and provide much."
"Call it the legacy of past loyalties, your Majesty," Mike said after a long moment of silence.
"I certainly can't complain about that," Kellan smiled, "I'll know their worth when you finally transfer them to me. Now, let's handle the transfer of the mana crystals." He suppressed a grimace as he began pulling bags of mana crystals from his inventory, fighting down the natural revulsion that came with surrendering any part of his hoard.
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Bob fell through a portal and into his inventory with a groan. Another sixteen-hour day was in the books, and he was eager for a hot shower and a hot meal in that order. Then a nap with a nice warm kitty would round out the day.
He'd stored his clothes before portaling in, so it was a matter of just turning on the shower and slipping under the hot water. He stood under the water, letting the heat soak into his sore muscles.
Delving sixteen hours a day was mentally taxing, but he'd decided that he needed to more than simply stand there while Jake took care of the monsters. He couldn't wade into combat himself, but he could move around a bit. That decision had translated into him rotating between walking, jogging, and running small laps around the area where the monsters spawned. It had taken a few hours to get the rhythm down, so it wasn't interfering with Jake's killing speed, but he'd managed.
Tomorrow he'd summon some wrist and ankle weights.
Rolling his neck, he grabbed his loofah and started to soap up. The day after tomorrow was his day off, and he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with it. He was going to have breakfast in Holmstead and try to catch Harv and Elli, maybe Eddi or Bailli. Then he wanted to go hiking, but he was looking for a change.
He'd been doing a little reading in the evenings, and he realized that as much as he liked hiking and being out in nature, he'd never indulged as much as he'd wanted to, back on Earth. There were amazing places and sights, just in the United States, that he'd never seen.
He wanted to see the Grand Canyon. He was pretty sure Monroe wanted to see the Grand Canyon as well, or at least that's how he had interpreted the big cat's purrs when he'd shown him the pictures on his tablet.
Was it technically a waste of two hundred crystals? Yes, yes, it was. But his friends had admonished him to take care of himself, and that meant enjoying his days off, and in the grand scheme of things, two hundred crystals a week was nothing.
Well, it wasn't nothing. It was ten thousand crystals over the course of a year and would likely extend the time he had to spend delving to get to tier seven by a month or more. Still, he felt he could justify the expense.
Rinsing off, he summoned a towel, and set about drying off, then headed to the kitchen, where he found Monroe sprawled out in front of the stasis box, clearly so weakened from hunger that he couldn't move. The huge Maine-coon let out a plaintive, heart-rending 'mreow,' letting Bob know that he would soon expire if life-giving sustenance were not offered immediately.
"Kitty so hungry," Bob commiserated as he gave Monroe a consoling ear scritch. "How could I starve a kitty like that," he said remorsefully, opening the stasis box and pulling a bowl of diced fish out, and placing it next to his ravenous cat.
Monroe's whiskers twitched, and he hauled himself to his feet, sniffed the bowl, and settled in to devour his well-earned feast.
Bob chuckled and pulled out a plate with a generous square of lasagna. Without thousands of troops to feed every day, Talima had been able to focus on quality more than quantity, and the extra time spent on each meal really showed. He inhaled the rich aroma and settled down at the table, summoning his silverware. As he addressed his meal, his thoughts wandered a bit. Maybe he could bring someone from Thayland over to visit the Grand Canyon with him?
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Jessica looked across the desk at Prime Minister Julwry. "Why would we have asked for permission?" She asked, "this is a free country, we can go where we please."
The Prime Minister frowned and shook her head. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to explain away an entire station disappearing? Don't answer," she waved a hand, "I've read your C.V., and I'm certain you don't." She sighed, then continued. "The issue isn't so much you popping over to another dimension, so much as it is all the people and herds you took with you. Those people of acquaintances and distant relatives that they might not be that close to, but will still notice when up and disappear, quite literally, from the face of the Earth."
"All due respect, Prime Minister, but you can piss right off," Jessica replied fiercely. "It's not our responsibility to help you spin this," Jessica went on, "it's our responsibility to make sure that our friends and family are safe, and if that means a headache for the government, so be it. You could always just try telling people the truth," she suggested. "Show them a bit of proof, offer them the chance at some healing magic, and I'd bet you'd get the lot of them."
"This isn't just about Australia," Prime Minister Julwry snapped, "we're fortunate, we already know what's going on. There are parts of the world that aren't going to deal with this very well, regardless as to what they're told or shown." She took a deep breath. "Regardless, I'm simply asking that should you plan any other mass migrations, that you notify us so that we can put some sort of cover story in place." She shuffled a few files on her desk. "Now, the primary reason I requested your presence today was not to discuss the missing station but rather to inquire as to if you could facilitate the transfer of a company to this 'Glacier Valley' so that they may be trained as Curators."
Jessica sat back and nodded. She hadn't intended to get into it with the bloody Prime Minister of all people, but she wasn't overly fond of being told what she could and couldn't do, especially when she knew she hadn't broken any laws. "I can do that," Jessica agreed, then added, "both, I'll let you know before the next migration, and I'll happily open a portal for a group of soldiers."
She caught the Prime Minister's grimace at the implication that Jessica was indeed planning to bring another large group of civilians over to Thayland and suppressed a grin.
"Thank you, Australia appreciates your aid in this matter," The Prime Minister stated, "I have a driver waiting for you at the door; he'll take you to the base where you'll be leading the men through the portal," she sighed, "and I can't believe I just said that," she finished with a shake of her head.
"Oh, come on," Jessica didn't fight her grin, "you can't tell me you aren't super keen to get your hands on some proper magic?"
"Sadly, I'll be one of the last to do so, as I'll be needed to maintain the continuity of the government right up to the last minute," Prime Minister Julwry replied.
"A few levels won't hurt you," Jessica disagreed as she stood up. "Get over for a few afternoons, kill some monsies, get a path. As long as you don't go deep into Endurance, it won't change your appearance much, and it'll give you a taste of the benefits, rather than just dwelling on the nightmares of the logistics."
With that, she headed out of the Prime Minister's office, grateful that the coal raking had been minimal. A stern-looking gentleman in a government issue suit was waiting for her. "Here for me, yeah?" She asked. When he nodded in response, she flashed him a brilliant smile. "Let's go, I've got someplace else to be."