Another Place—A Different Time

Amty-Oha poured over the reports she’d received. She must have missed one from her Larvae Sect on Crendalar. Surely, it was here—even though this was her ninth to ninetieth look through the pile. It had to be her mistake!

“My sweet Succubi,” Lorant-Axe crooned from his own desk, right beside hers. “It is not there, they did not send it.”

“But how could they have fought all seven of the Trials and given us nothing to help our chances?” Amty-Oha asked, her voice furious and incredulous. “They would not abandon us!”

“Perhaps they did not have time to send in a report. Maybe the System blocked it. Perhaps we are not as valuable as we thought. There are many reasons they could be missing,” Lorant-Axe reiterated, using several of the points he’d made before. Amty-Oha glared at him, and he added. “That does not mean we will not succeed, my tyrannical love!”

She rolled her eyes at his placation. He might be right, but the chances of them succeeding weren’t great. Not now; not anymore. Her fist clenched onto the top report, crumpling it slightly before she stopped herself and straightened the paper back out.

She knew the words on it by heart. A report from the Elves—her Larvae Guild members. By all metrics, it was a report of success in the first Trial, but for someone who knew every spec of dust dwelling within her Guild—it spelled a disaster.

Sure, it was only a loss of twenty percent of the raiding party—which was within acceptable limits—but it was the specific members they’d lost that were the problem.

Not a single ‘tank’ remained. She’d carefully grown the elite Elves over thousands of years. Her Jaegars had been the strongest reported by any in the Larvae Sect from Crendalar, and amongst them, the Tank Jaegars were the ones she poured the most resources into. Followed closely by the Healers.

How had she done it?

She’d collected the Card Shards like all the other groups that went off-world from Crendalar. She’d paired Shards into sets, and discovered new ones—that she’d reported back. Amty had even followed numerous guides and strategies for taking down known Portal Monsters.

But none of those were the reason she’d created the strongest Guild with the best chance to Ascend.

No, Amty had discovered a secret—one she doubted any other Crendalar Demon knew. This one secret was what had made it possible for her to hand groom Tanks and Healers—and everyone else, for that matter.

Amty-Oha had met an Elven woman who knew of another Demon on Sective Agora. That claim didn’t surprise Amty. Many other Sects would have used Portals to establish forces here. Still, wanting to establish diplomatic relations with those of similar goals, Amty had asked to meet the Demon.

Aurora Skysong—the elves name, had only seemed to consider for a moment before an Imp had suddenly appeared in the room with them. An Imp, who claimed to be a Felguard-Imp named Greg-shak, from an ‘Abyss Sect’ Amty hadn’t heard of.

Through discussions, she’d discovered a few reasons why she’d never heard of them. After inquiries on Crendalar Five, she’d discovered even more reasons she’d never shared with Greg-shak.

Still, how his Sect had created two Skills was both fantastical and phenomenal. The idea to sell wares and use them to collect Mana, was profound. The execution, however… was lacking. Especially in the second candidate she’d found—likely the first Skill version created.

Her surprises weren’t finished though, Greb-Shaks or Aurora’s Skill grew with the amount of Mana sent back—sent back to where? She and a select few surviving members of the Larvae Sect on Crendalar never discovered. She’d hoped that her spies could find this Treasury, but other than a massive crater, nothing remained of the Abyss Sect’s compound.

Still, despite that failure it didn’t mean she wouldn’t use the surviving gifts it created. And she had. Her and Lorant had used them—well it perfectly. Surely, they were the Larvae Guild deemed the strongest, with the best chances to Ascend.

There was perhaps a single failure—but surely it wasn’t truly that bad. No, Amty had been able to pair Legendary Skill combinations together—without having to get lucky with Card Shards. She even sported the most wondrous of those Skills herself. The fact that the Abyss Sect had even created their own Skill, and her race still failed to Ascend infuriated both her and Lorant.

Still, they’d consoled themselves with the fact that now was their time! Now they’d prove themselves and become Elder’s upon ascension.

But how in the Deepest Hells had it all gone wrong? Was it when she killed Raylight Cloudbreeze?

No, it couldn’t have been. Still, where had that second Demonic Vault Skill gone? She’d never even told Lorant about it’s existence—so surely no one else could have known—could have pulled it from his Heart Deck before she got to him.

Maybe she should have tried with Aurora before—

Between two claws on the page, one name amongst the casualties glared at her accusingly. One name, that made it impossible for her to salvage the situation. The same name that had made it all possible—and the likely reason why so many of her Elites had died.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Aurora Skysong…

“Surely, we can still salvage this,” Lorant said, seeming to read her very thoughts. “There are other Elven Guilds—both Elven and Demonic Sects with strength that we can align with.”

That was what all these other reports were. Pages and pages about other Guilds and their personnel. Their backers. She clenched her fangs together, and stated, “None of them can hold a candle to our Larvae Guild!”

Lorant grimaced and looked her right in her purple eyes. “Could have held a candle, sweets,” he said somberly. “What made us the best is now gone. We have twenty-six days to enter the Second Trial.

“Now!” He shouted the word after a pause startling her. “Do you want to start working toward Ascending, or will you continue to cry over the useless dead Elves?”

Amty looked at Lorant with wide eyes. He was right about them needing to start preparing for the Second Trial but so wrong about the useless Elves. She nodded her head and fished out a report on a Guild called Treewall. It had the best chance to plug the holes in their Larvae Guild.

As she handed it over, she addressed the comment he’d made. “You can’t call them useless. my love. Without them we can do nothing. Only the inhabitants of the Ascending Race can come back through the Portal without losing a portion of their power. Even with our strength, if we enter the Trial only one of us can return—and as an A-Rank at best…”

Lorant scoffed. “We are Universe Powerhouses. Surely it wouldn’t degrade us that far!” At Amty’s pitying look, the Felguard growled. “Then we should have taken the Demonic Vault skill from Aurora! Why did you leave such a valuable skill with an Elf.”

There were a lot of undertones in that scrutiny of her decision. Primary amongst them was the hint of Lorant’s true thoughts. If one of them possessed the Demonic Vault Skill—then they could enter Portals, downgrade to A-rank and climb back to S and beyond. Surely he couldn’t have been the one who took Raylight’s Skill in that case, right? He was idiotic, but Amty didn’t correct him—didn’t mention that they perhaps couldn’t take the Skill? He wasn’t always the greatest ‘thinker,’and she didn’t want to confuse him.

Surely, he’d forgive her for withholding the existence of the second Skill, right?

Instead, she focused on the fact that he had questioned her choices. “When we began, we didn’t know just how powerful that Skill was! We didn’t know it could Upgrade as it did! How could we suspect its growth! If I remember correctly, you even called it worthless, because Greg-Shak was an Imp and ‘how could a Sect with an Imp be powerful!’ Right?”

Lorant stood quickly, using clenched fists on his table-top to push his thickly framed body to its feet. The wood was not meant to handle his strength and weight. It splintered and then shattered in a rain of fragmented wood. “You dare speak the Name of the Abomination!”

Amty stood and glared at the Felguard, matching his rage. His race was and always had been a tribe of Warriors. One that believed in the purity of blood. As such, a Felguard procreating with a race so far below them—an Imp—was an affront to Lorant. An ‘Abomination.’

She didn’t tell him how much she sometimes dreamt of him possessing even a portion of the intelligence of that Felguard-Imp. Surely she loved him for himself by this point…

“You just said how powerful of a Skill that ‘Abomination’ created!” Amty shouted back. “You Sandy Hypocrite.”

Amty could tell that her words stung and confused Lorant. Partly because if he continued to speak on the Abomination’s mixed blood—it would belittle their own pairing. He’d made that mistake in the past, and even though he was more muscle than brains—he wasn’t entirely stupid. Still, she’d effectively changed the subject away from their need to take the Demonic Vault Skill—she was pretty sure they couldn’t.

Lorant took a deep breath and looked down to his throne of a chair, before brushing it clean of splinters. He then sat, and found the crumpled report on the floor. The one on Treewall she’d handed him before he’d ‘raged.’

She took a deep breath and sat down as well. This was their way. They’d fight, and then use the simmering anger to move forward. Lorant began to nod at the choice she’d made. “Ahh, I see your thoughts. Double the number of Tanks and Healers to plug our gaps. It should work.”

“Focusing on the front line, to allow our backs to conquer all!” Amty recited. If only the Larvae Guild had followed her suggestion for its own Ascent Trials!

* * *

Amty looked deeply into Lorant’s red eyes. “Even without the help of the Larvae Sect, we can use what we’ve learned from the first two trials here to Ascend!”

Lorant fought his urge to roll his eyes. This woman infuriated him. Sure, she was intelligent, and all of her plans for Sective Agora seemed the best option when proposed. But surely she could see how her prejudices and hang-ups cost them and the useless Elves?

He didn’t say any of that, though. Instead, he stared back into her eyes. Lorant wasn’t committed to his plans yet, anyway. He could find a Time Bubble on Sective Agora that contained these Dwarves, a race deemed strongest of the options they’d found. He could follow her in time. If that was the next S-ranked Portal off -world he probably would.

But, he couldn’t stop the wriggling worm of a thought that blamed her for their failure either. What he did say, though, was, “I will follow you through when the next high-ranked Time Bubble appears. I look forward to seeing the rebirth of the Larvae Guild!”

“When you next see me, you will be the weaker in our pairing. Are you certain you don’t want to go through first, my sweet,” Amty-Oha asked.

This question did make him grimace. That was true, and the one part of his plan that held the biggest frayed thread. Thankfully, he’d learned the buttons to push to stop her from pulling on it. “I am but a mace, while you are a sword. I can only destroy things, but despite how deadly you are, you are also useful in other mundane tasks. Such as cooking…”

An elf had once lamented poetically about a sword to him, and he’d stolen what he could recall of that imbecile's views. He knew he’d butchered it, but thankfully Amty expected him to mix idioms. She smiled up at him, “And your father said you had a muscle for a brain! You’ve grown so much!”

Lorant flushed with heat, both from anger and embarrassment. Amty thankfully mistook it for the latter and leaned in for a kiss. He returned the kiss deeply, lifting her off the ground, and beginning to pull at her clothes simultaneously.

Amty chuckled with her mouth still latched onto his. She pulled away long enough to say, “A little privacy please,” to the remaining servants of their once powerful Larvae Guild. Then she dove back into Lorant’s affection.

He would miss this—if he chose not to follow her to this Ulther's Edge…