The trek back to Newscar was a surreal experience for Jannet. With over twenty gemstone gnomes perched on his back, their belongings secured with vines and improvised straps, he felt more like a jungle caravan than a sovereign leader. Randel bore the rest of the tiny passengers, his frills flaring occasionally in annoyance as the gnomes chirped and squeaked in their high-pitched voices. They were not ungrateful passengers—on the contrary, their wide-eyed wonder at the speed and height of their journey was apparent. It was just... loud.
Jannet’s claws dug into the soft jungle earth as he pushed forward, keeping a steady pace despite the added weight. The gemstone gnomes, accustomed to their cavernous homes, were clearly unused to this level of motion. They clung to his back like startled birds, their glowing gemstones flickering faintly with every bounce and shift. Their awe, however, was unmissable. Some gnomes leaned precariously over Jannet’s shoulders to catch glimpses of the passing jungle, their mustaches fluttering with excitement. Others whispered and giggled among themselves, speculating about the sights and sounds they were experiencing for the first time.
Jannet flicked his tongue in irritation, reminding himself of the importance of this mission. Despite their diminutive size, the gnomes brought immense value to Newscar. Their craftsmanship and magical knowledge would strengthen his settlement, and their presence would solidify the trade relationship he had fought so hard to build. But none of that made the noise any less grating.
Dimglow and Sharpbright rode near the front, their glowing gemstones bobbing with every step. Jannet couldn’t help but keep an eye—or rather, an ear—on their chatter. Though Lady DarkDiamonds had ensured their oversight, Jannet wasn’t inclined to trust them completely. Both had proven resourceful, but their resourcefulness had also caused complications. It would take time to see if they could redeem themselves under stricter supervision.
By the time the group reached Newscar, the sun was rising, casting a golden glow over the settlement’s thick walls. The gates creaked open, and Jannet pushed forward, his exhaustion tempered by the sight of his thriving domain. The lizards and goblins inside erupted in a mix of hisses and cheers, the commotion drawing every able-bodied citizen to the gates to see the newcomers.
The gemstone gnomes dismounted awkwardly, their tiny hands patting Jannet and Randel’s scales in what could only be described as gratitude. The lizards and goblins stared in fascination at the newcomers, their glowing gemstones and ornate little tools captivating the crowd. Even the hatchlings ventured close, chirping curiously as the gnomes unloaded their belongings.
Jannet exhaled deeply, lowering his head to address the gathered crowd. His memetics pulsed across the assembly, ensuring his words were understood by all. “These are the gemstone gnomes,” he conveyed, his tone measured but firm. “They are our allies and trade partners. Their work will strengthen Newscar and secure its future. Treat them as you would the hatchlings—protect them, respect them, and learn from them.”
The lizards hissed in acknowledgment, and the goblins nodded eagerly. The gnomes, though nervous at first, quickly began to mingle, their glowing gemstones drawing the curious closer. To Jannet’s relief, the gnomes cast their “speak with animals” spell almost immediately, bridging the language gap and allowing for smoother introductions. The sudden fluency seemed to fascinate both parties, and soon the courtyard buzzed with animated conversations.
As the gnomes set to work integrating themselves into the settlement, Jannet felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He had been moving nonstop, and now, at last, he could rest. He slunk away from the gathering crowd, his massive frame weaving through the familiar pathways of Newscar. A warm sunning stone near the cliff called to him, and as he settled onto its surface, he let his mind wander.
The sight of his citizens welcoming the gnomes brought a sense of pride he hadn’t expected. This wasn’t just a settlement anymore—it was a growing, thriving community. Goblins, lizards, and now gnomes, all working together for a shared future. Newscar was becoming something extraordinary, and Jannet was determined to see it flourish. For now, though, the warm sun and the soft hum of the bustling town lulled him into a much-needed rest.
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The plains and rivers outside Daunturia lay eerily quiet in the wake of weeks of devastation. What had once been a patchwork of fertile farmlands and bustling villages was now a wasteland of churned earth, toppled buildings, and gnawed bones. The land bore scars of relentless destruction, the devastation etched deep into the soil and the souls of those few who had survived.
At the center of the desolation, the massive form of the Ancient Noble Crocodile lay still, its colossal body sprawled across what had once been a lush riverside. The beast’s maw, lined with countless serrated teeth, hung open in a final snarl, now motionless. Its emerald hide, once shimmering with the sheen of ancient power, was scorched and torn in a dozen places. Its death was a feat few could have imagined, but it was not the kingdom’s armies that had brought it down.
Standing over the felled beast were four figures, their postures a mix of weariness and triumph. Blood, ichor, and sweat streaked their forms, and the ground around them bore the marks of their furious battle.
The first was a towering man wielding an enormous two-handed sword. He stood shirtless, his muscled torso glistening with the remnants of battle and his head wrapped in a weathered bandana. His weapon was still embedded in the crocodile’s neck, the blade shimmering faintly as if imbued with power. He leaned on it slightly, catching his breath, his eyes scanning the horizon as though expecting another fight to come.
To his left stood a mage, their delicate hands gripping a wand that emitted faint wisps of smoke. A floating tome hovered beside them, its pages flipping of their own accord. The mage’s sharp eyes studied the massive creature before them, their expression one of focused calculation. They wore robes that shimmered faintly with protective enchantments, and the tip of their wand still glowed faintly, the aftermath of a spell powerful enough to subdue the primordial beast.
A young girl knelt nearby, her hands clasped around a small, intricate book. She whispered a prayer, her voice calm yet commanding, as a soft white light emanated from her hands and enveloped her companions. Their wounds closed, their fatigue eased, and the air around her seemed to hum with divine energy. The insignia of a Valkyrie-like god gleamed on her shoulder armor, and her serene face belied the ferocity of the battle she had just endured.
Lastly, a figure cloaked in shadow stood apart from the others. They wore a long, tattered cloak and a mask that hid their face, save for the faint glimmer of eyes that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. A dark aura surrounded them, and even in victory, their presence exuded a sense of foreboding. Their hands, gloved and still faintly smoking with void-like energy, were clasped loosely at their sides.
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“It’s done,” the swordsman said, his voice rough but satisfied as he yanked his weapon free from the beast’s corpse. The massive blade dripped with dark blood, and he gave it a flick, spraying the ground. “Took long enough.”
“Don’t get too comfortable, Greth,” the mage replied, their voice calm but tinged with exhaustion. “This was no ordinary beast. Its presence here was a warning—a sign of what’s to come.”
The young girl looked up from her prayer, her soft eyes clouded with concern. “The gods have been whispering of stirrings in the north,” she said quietly. “Something is moving, something ancient and powerful. This beast may have been driven here by forces even greater than itself.”
The void-cloaked figure, Rys, tilted his masked head slightly, his voice cold and deliberate. “This beast would not have fallen so easily if it had not already been marked by what is to come.”
Greth, the towering swordsman, yanked his weapon free from the felled crocodile’s neck with a grunt. He sheathed it in one smooth motion, his eyes narrowing at Rys. “You’re always so damn cryptic. Speak plain for once, would you?”
Rys chuckled, the sound low and devoid of mirth, like the faint echo of a void itself. “The gods are calling their heroes to Signarniah as well. You think we came here for the reward alone? This beast was a test, Greth. The real trial waits ahead.”
Greth snorted, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “Yeah, no. I came here for the reward. You might like all your spooky god whispers and ominous trials, but me? I like coin.” He jabbed a thumb toward the fallen crocodile. “The kingdom is paying good coin for this thing. Have either of your gods ever once paid us good coin? Huh? I didn’t think so.”
The mage, still standing near the massive carcass with their floating tome hovering beside them, snapped the book shut with a flick of their wrist. “The north,” they murmured, their sharp eyes distant and contemplative. “If the gods are involved, it’s more than just rumors. We’ll need to prepare.”
Greth’s broad shoulders slumped, and he groaned theatrically. “Drinking is preparing. Do you two hear yourselves? ‘The north,’ ‘gods,’ ‘trials.’ You’re making me tired just listening to it. We’re heroes in Daunturia now. Heroes! The capital of one of the seven major kingdoms! Do you know what that means? Free drinks. Fancy rooms. Crowds chanting our names. And best of all, spending coin.”
The young girl raised a brow, her clasped prayer book dropping slightly as she cast a questioning look at Greth. “You can’t be serious,” she said softly. “This isn’t about—”
Greth cut her off with a booming laugh. “Oh, but I am. Look, kid. You’re all very noble with your gods and your holy books, and I respect that. Really, I do. But me? I’ve been dragging this damn sword through muck and blood for weeks. I say we go, enjoy our month of being famous, and then we can talk about whatever end-of-the-world nonsense is stirring up north.”
The mage pursed their lips, their floating tome vibrating faintly as though mirroring their annoyance. “We can’t afford to waste time, Greth. If the gods—”
“If the gods,” Greth interrupted, holding up a calloused finger. “If the gods have a big bad beastie waiting for us up north, we’ll deal with it when we get there. But right now? We’ve earned a little break. If you two don’t follow me to Daunturia to bask in our well-earned glory, I swear on this big ol’ sword of mine, I’ll drag you both there myself.”
The young girl exchanged a glance with the mage, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and reluctant amusement. “You’re impossible.”
Greth flashed a grin. “And you’re welcome. Now come on, eggheads. Let’s go. Drinks won’t pour themselves.”
Rys remained still for a moment, the void-like energy radiating faintly from his cloaked form, before muttering, “If the gods didn’t intend us to rest, they wouldn’t have invented ale.”
The mage groaned, tucking their wand away. “Fine. But if you even think about making a fool of yourself at court, Greth, I’ll enchant that sword of yours to weigh as much as that crocodile.”
Greth smirked, gesturing for the group to follow as he began striding confidently away from the battlefield. “Let’s see them try to lift it for my statue then.”
The young girl sighed, clasping her book and offering a final silent prayer over the massive corpse. “Please give me patience,” she whispered, before joining her companions on the trek back to Daunturia.
The plains stretched before them, the shadow of the slain crocodile slowly fading behind them as they walked. Even with the promise of coin and glory ahead, the north loomed heavily in their thoughts, a distant yet undeniable pull toward something greater—and far more dangerous—than any of them could yet understand.
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Jannet flicked his tongue lazily as he reclined on the sun-warmed stones of Newscar’s new sunning cliff. The memory of his meeting with Lady DarkDiamonds lingered, sharp and vivid. The strange, regal gnome had been as impressive as she was irritating. Her commanding presence had practically demanded respect, but her shrewd negotiation tactics had left Jannet both admiring her cunning and begrudging her audacity.
It was during their departure, as she stood at the entrance of her glittering domain, that curiosity had gotten the better of him. The ring of identification had become one of Jannet’s most reliable tools, and as Lady DarkDiamonds offered a final flourish of a bow, her gemstone crown catching the light, Jannet had activated its ability.
The familiar pulse of the system rippled through his mind, the words forming clearly in his vision:
Identification: Gemstone Noble Variant
Name: Lady Dark Diamonds
Title: Ruling Diamond Monarch of the Glitterstone Depths
Class: Monarch of Mines
Level : 23
Description: A rare and powerful leader among Gemstone Gnomes, Lady DarkDiamonds embodies elegance and mastery over her kind. Her deep connection to her domain makes her a formidable ally or opponent.
Jannet had hissed softly in amusement. “Monarch of Mines,” he’d thought to himself, watching her regal demeanor as she waved him off. The system’s description confirmed what he’d already suspected—this wasn’t just some high-ranking gnome. Lady DarkDiamonds was a force in her own right, as deeply tied to her people and their glittering caves as Jannet was to his growing kingdom.
It also explained her unrelenting drive to control the trade of gemstones and mana stones. Her title, her power, her very essence seemed rooted in her domain. Any threat to it, intentional or not, would likely result in consequences Jannet didn’t care to explore.
Still, the experience had left him wondering. The system was meant to categorize and quantify everything, but even with all the data it offered, there was something about Lady DarkDiamonds that felt deeper, more complex. He had seen glimpses of it in her measured words, the way her gemstone crown seemed to shimmer with a light that pulsed to her emotions.
"She's clever, I'll give her that," Jannet thought, flicking his tongue as the memory faded. He stretched out on the warm rock, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the other sunning lizards.
Her cryptic warnings and sharp bargaining would stay with him for some time. Lady DarkDiamonds wasn’t just a trade partner—she was a player in the greater game of power that Jannet had only just begun to grasp. And as the breeze ruffled the flag of Newscar above him, he resolved to tread carefully where the Diamond Monarch was concerned.