Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 49 - Shock and awe - Part Two
Another Guzzard attempted a swooping dive on the squat stone marker that served as the Totem for the ongoing Conquest. Breathing heavily, I struck its engorged belly and disembowelled it with my machete. Ignoring the foul stench of its ruptured organs, I slammed my shield into a pair of Guzzards that had approached from the left flank while I was dispatching the first.
Arrows buzzed past my helmet and caught four more Guzzards, sending them tumbling and crashing into the street.
Few in number at first, the putrid bloated vulture-like Guzzards had begun arriving in their hundreds during the night and were now swarming in their thousands with the rising of the sun. As best I could figure, the stench of death and decay was drawing them from miles beyond the call of the Conquest only to then have the Conquest seize control of them.
Several dozen Guzzards, some bristling with arrows, others not, dove at Gregory who was standing a short distance from myself in the open street.
Slamming my machete end first into a pile of corpses by my feet, I summoned a large club into my right hand and drew back my arm while flooding the club with mana. “DOWN!” I roared, raising and angling my shield to provide cover for my eyes.
Leaping backwards, Gregory shot down two more circling Guzzards before skidding and sliding into cover behind my shield.
Following their prey, the Guzzards now swarmed towards me.
Swinging the club forwards, I could feel the wood begin to warp and crack beneath my fingers as the mana inside began to tear it apart. Narrowly missing the first Guzzard, I lowered my head and injected another sliver of mana into the club.
*BOOOOM!!!*
With a deafening crack of thunder, I felt the club violently disintegrate in hand. Milliseconds later, I felt a hail of splinters rain against my helmet, shield and armour.
Raising my head, I fumbled for my machete and grimly surveyed the surrounding carnage.
The force of the explosion had blown away the corpses in the immediate vicinity. Some of the swarming Guzzards had been killed outright, but those farthest from the blast were only stunned or otherwise grounded with broken wings.
Gregory, despite being spattered with bloody gore, seemed none the worse for wear as he ducked out of the cover of my shield and began taking pot shots into the cloud of Guzzards overhead.
Soldiers not defending the gates themselves had long since fallen back and were now grimly executing the wounded land bound Guzzards.
A deafening roar drew all eyes to the sky as Ushu carved a bloody swath of destruction through the swarm. Dashing apart the Guzzards with his sheer bulk and momentum, Ushu killed more Guzzards in a single pass than the soldiers had managed in a half hour. Unfortunately, the brute force tactic took a unique toll.
Not only did it consume large amounts of energy to gain the height necessary in order to make the dives so devastating, but the Guzzards had enough mass to injure Ushu slightly as he slammed into them.
Sure enough, Ushu made no attempts at ascending again, instead landing on the plains outside so he could gorge himself and renew his strength.
All the same, Ushu’s efforts made a substantial difference to the ongoing battle as a whole. Despite being a non-humanoid, he still qualified as a target for a recently acquired Class Ability called Favoured Servants.
In its simplest terms, the Ability allowed me to elect a small number of Underlords or higher to serve as triggers for my other Class Abilities. Not every Class Ability qualified, but the two most prominent were Inspiring Presence and Demoralising Presence. Inspiring made allies within line of sight more resistant to Fear and Terror while within line of sight, and provided bonus Momentum to allies that witnessed personally delivered killing blows. Demoralising Presence did the opposite and effected enemies instead of allies, making them more susceptible to Fear and Terror, and leaching their Momentum after witnessing personally delivered killing blows.
As a Dragon, Ushu was an obvious choice. I had to promote him to an Underlord, but the benefits seemed more than worth it. I would have promoted Gregory as well, but we were concerned it might cause a change to many of his own Class Abilities. It came as little surprise to me, but Gregory had accumulated a large collection of unlocked Classes.
A ragged cheer rose from the soldiers as they began fighting with renewed vigour and determination. Even Gregory had begun moving and attacking with greater determination and speed.
I slapped the spine of my machete against my shield to bring some more feeling back to my fingers.
The fighting was still far from over.
Thoroughly grounded, I briefly entertained the idea of hurling javelins into the larger swarm and detonating them Thundering Strikes. However, I quickly realised that there was a much better alternative.
“Gregory! To me!” I sheathed my bloody machete and summoned an arrow into my hand.
Gregory obediently strafed across the street while continuously firing arrows up into the swarm, focusing on any Guzzards that broke away and headed towards the ground. “Majesty?” Gregory kept his attention skywards and continued firing.
Concentrating on the arrow in my hand, I channelled a small amount of mana into it and offered it to Gregory, “Try this,” I ordered.
Barely breaking rhythm, Gregory nodded and snatched the arrow, nocking and firing it in one smooth motion.
The arrow flew true and struck a Guzzard in its bloated underbelly.
*Boom.*
The Guzzard exploded into chunks of bloody meat and feathers.
Definitely lethal, it was not nearly as destructive as I had wanted.
I summoned another arrow and channelled considerably more mana into it.
Gregory nocked and fired the second arrow just like the first.
*BOOM!*
Unfortunately, the arrow only made it halfway towards its intended target before ripping itself apart and exploding prematurely.
Gregory’s eyes narrowed beneath his helmet and he stopped firing. “A suggestion, Majesty?!” He offered more loudly than he would have otherwise, due to the shots of the nearby soldiers, “Magical arrows!”
Concentrating for a moment in order to mentally peruse the donated stockpile, I was a little surprised to find a slowly growing cache of magical arrows. Summoning one of the arrows into my hand, It took slightly more effort and concentration to ensure the mana was reserved for the destructive Ability and not co opted for adjusting its size.
Finding the magical arrow to be far sturdier, I risked injecting an even larger amount of mana than the previous arrow before handing it off to Gregory.
Accepting the arrow, Gregory paused for a moment and stared at it as it released a faint humming sound and a whiff of ozone briefly filled the air. Very carefully nocking the arrow, Gregory selected his target, drew back the bowstring and loosed the arrow into the heart of the swarm.
Instead of immediately drawing another arrow, Gregory and I watched the arrow race into the sky with anticipation.
The arrow tore through two Guzzards in its path before striking a third.
*BOOOOOOOOM!!!!!*
With a blinding bright flash of white light, the arrow exploded.
Damn near deafened by the explosion and blinded by the light, I felt a torrent of wind crash into me from above.
As my vision returned, I couldn’t help but stare at the sky in surprise.
The swarm of Guzzards were in chaos. The core of the swarm was missing outright, and those that remained were scattered in the periphery. Shrieking and crashing into one another as they flew about in a panic, the Guzzards quickly proved to be a greater danger to one another than the recovering archers.
Even with more Guzzards being drawn in from the surrounding regions, the archers were now making definitive headway in thinning out the swarm.
Holding my remaining mana in reserve, I continued watching the sky for signs of trouble while considering strategies for the second Conquest.
With no existing infrastructure in the prospective location, Cin, the Daemon Earth Mage would need to be Summoned to create a properly defensible location. If that was the case, then I wanted to have the Totem located indoors, denying the Guzzards their prime aerial advantage and forcing them into ground combat. I would need to seriously consider making such practices the standard from here on out. After all, there were no real reasons not to do so.
As the final seconds counted down, I climbed atop the former Guild office to survey the state of the surrounding area. Mounds of corpses, mostly Guzzards, littered the landscape and would need to be cleared away in order to avoid the rampant proliferation of disease.
The moment the timer struck zero, the archers stationed on the rooftops all but collapsed. Given the immense strain involved in firing so many arrows over such a long period of time, I wasn’t particularly surprised. There was only so much physical recovery Iron Gut could provide before the accumulated mental strain and psychological fatigue became overwhelming.
Even Gregory was staggering, fighting to stay upright and on his feet.
As expected, with the Conquest at an end, a chest appeared beside me on the rooftop. However, just like with Ochram, the selection and arrival of an Overseer was listed as Pending.
Deciding to put the absent Overseer out of my mind for the time being, I picked up the chest and carefully climbed back down to the ground so I could investigate the contents without risking damaging the contents.
More or less as I had expected, the chest contained three pale blue and silver eggs. Gently resting a couple of fingers against one of the eggs, I felt a strange sense of familiarity that I couldn’t quite place.
Still standing through a force of will and pure grit, Gregory stiffly made his way over to investigate. Judging by the look on his face, I assumed that he had a similar sense of familiarity.
After staring at the eggs for a few minutes I finally realised why the sensation was so familiar.
*Tingling*
Clad in golden armour and holding a large silver blade, Ophelia, Orphiel's female clone, appeared beside the chest with a corona of pale golden light shimmering above her head. “My Tyrant?” Ophelia inclined her head politely but paused as she caught sight of the eggs, “Oh...”
“A reward from the Conquest,” I explained, “They made me think of yourself and Orphiel.”
Ophelia nodded without taking her eyes off of the eggs, “I sense traces of Divinity in them,” she confirmed, “yet they are not Angels as we are...Strange.”
“What do you mean?” I asked curiously.
Ophelia removed her helmet, allowing it to disintegrate into nothingness so she could look at the eggs more clearly, “I sense, a hunger for battle not unlike my own,” Ophelia explained slowly with a bemused expression on her face, “But I sense death as well...Strange....They remind me of Wisp.”
“I don’t have the mana for another lengthy Summoning,” I sighed regretfully, “Could you please inform Wisp that I wish to speak with him?”
Ophelia nodded obediently, “Of course.” She spared one final look at the eggs before disintegrating into nothingness.
Gregory sighed quietly while shaking his head, “My mother would not have believed that I regularly meet with Angels as part of my job...” He muttered softly with a wry grin on his face.
I elected to remain silent.
Many Asrusians were reasonably devout despite their former pantheon having disappeared a long time ago. Orphiel and Ophelia had started something of a religious revival, and not without good reason.
Divinity seemed capable of doing just about anything, provided there was enough of it on hand. Passively accumulated through the power of belief, Orphiel and Ophelia had only managed to accumulate a small amount in spite of having close to the entire nation praying to them. As best as I could discern, this was because the volume of Divinity passively generated through belief was quite small.
I had a theory that active worship likely generated more Divinity. This was why places like the grand cathedral had been comparatively saturated with leftover Divinity. Of course, if this was true, then constructing shrines and the like would probably serve as similarly suitable focal points.
Fresh soldiers entered the newly created Settlement to relieve those who had fought during the Conquest. Many had to be carried or supported in some way, but the overall mood was surprisingly upbeat. Bragging, boasting and even flexing were commonplace as the soldiers were assisted out of the Labyrinth.
Given the effects the hectic fighting had on the average soldier’s physique, I couldn’t really blame them. Even the older soldiers were rocking six packs after iron Gut cannibalised their fat reserves to keep them in the fight.
A commotion by the portal revealed Ophelia had arrived in the Settlement in person, and at her side was Wisp. Although it was admittedly difficult to recognise him at first.
Used to the idea of Wisp ‘borrowing’ corpses to facilitate his locomotion, seeing him ‘in the flesh’, specifically, his own, was something of a surprise. Wearing a black robe but otherwise barefoot and unarmed, Wisp had deathly pale skin that shone with an inner silver light. Unconventionally attractive with short jet black hair and a roguish beard, his mismatched blue and white, and white and blue, eyes twinkled with amusement as he observed the soldiers falling to their knees in reaction to Ophelia’s presence.
Slowly making their way through the crowd, Ophelia smiled and made a point of singling out female soldiers for praise. Not that the other soldiers seemed to mind.
A full ten minutes passed before Ophelia and Wisp managed to make their way over to where I was waiting beside the Settlement’s Totem.
“These are the eggs,” Ophelia explained rather unnecessarily, pointing at the tree egs in the chest.
Wisp crouched down on his haunches and nodded as he looked them over, “I definitely sense death,” he commented in a deep voice, “Divinity too...Curious...Not Angels...Nor Spirits...Something...Something in between...Interesting.” Wisp looked up at me inquisitively, “Have arrangements for guardianship been made?” He asked with unmasked interest.
“Not yet,” I replied, “Why? Are you considering becoming a parent?” The very idea had seemed bizarre until just a few moments ago, so I didn’t understand why I wasn’t particularly shocked with the development.
“Perhaps,” Wisp replied thoughtfully, running the back of a crooked finger down the length of one of the eggs, “Although, certainly not alone...” He looked at Ophelia with cold calculating eyes, “Would you be interested in sharing guardianship responsibilities with me Ophelia?” Wisp asked bluntly, “I fear I may lack a certain warmth that could result in undesirable personality traits and behaviours being fostered and exacerbated should I attempt to do so alone.”
Far from offended, Ophelia seemed to give Wisp’s offer serious thought. “We would be sharing paternal duties only?” She pressed shrewdly.
Wisp nodded, “Our relationship will encompass only what is necessary for their development,” he clarified.
Ophelia considered the eggs for a few moments and nodded, “Alright,” she agreed and squatted down beside the chest.
If there had been better alternative fostering arrangements available, I would have seriously considered intervening. However, so far as I could tell, Wisp and Ophelia were probably the best people for the job, for the time being at least.
The pair took turns imprinting on each of the eggs, making the decision permanent.
“If you don’t mind, I have mana to spare?” Wisp offered Ophelia.
“Alright,” Ophelia agreed, leaning in closer so she would have a better look at what he was doing.
Placing his hands above the eggs, it took me a few moments to realise what Wisp was doing. Just barely able to feel the mana radiating out of his hands, it quickly became obvious that Wisp intended to hatch the eggs here and now in the street.
Huffing somewhat disapprovingly, I summoned a number of empty crates and then summoned a pile of small blankets on top of them.
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After a few minutes, the eggs began to move.
One after the other, the eggs began to crack and pudgy pink fists began flailing away at the shattering shells.
The wailing babies had what seemed to be large twitching wings protruding from their backs. Covered in downy feathers like a duckling, the babies seemed to have about as much control over their wings as their arms and legs and had to be removed from the chest to avoid hurting themselves.
Swaddled into the blankets I had prepared earlier, Gregory, Ophelia and Wisp each held one of the babies while I mentally reviewed the stockpile for viable food options.
It was only after I had provided a large jar of vegetable mush that I realised all three of the winged babies were girls. It seemed strange to me until I reviewed their Status’ and could place a Species to go with their strange appearance and the characteristics Ophelia and Wisp had pointed out earlier.
They were valkyries. Or, more accurately, they were Lesser Valkyrja. Despite the slightly different name, their Racial Abilities made it abundantly clear what they were.
Worthy Dead allowed the Valkyrja to convert the dead into Divinity so long as they met an unspecified standard of ‘worthiness’. With no mention of humanoid, Beast, ally or enemy, there seemed to be no limit for potential targets beyond being found worthy.
Martial Intuition was a little more straightforward. It imbued the Valkyrja with an intuitive understanding of the qualities of any armour and weapons within their line of sight. It also provided increased Damage Reduction and increased Damage and momentum with armour and weapons of higher objective quality.
What came as a surprise was that Martial Intuition was also available as a Synergy. I wasn’t the only one who had noticed either. However before anyone had the opportunity to make a big deal out of it, the abrupt arrival of the Overseer drew everyone’s attention.
A full foot taller than Gregory, the new arrival also had a large pair of wings that made her seem much larger than she actually was. With a similar appearance to an Elf, she had bird-like legs and talons instead of feet. Her short black hair matched the dark feathers on her wings and legs, and she wore crude hide armour over what looked like primitive clothing made from softer hide.
“My Tyrant,” the new arrival bowed her head and fanned her wings slightly before settling down again, “I beg forgiveness. My flock needed an explanation.”
“You are a Harpy,” I guessed, not so much a question as an observation. I had seen smaller Harpys in Sanctuary before I left. They had all been children, but it was easy enough to believe that they would grow up to be close to her size with enough time.
The Harpy nodded obediently, “Yes, my Tyrant,” she agreed somewhat apprehensively, “This is not a problem?”
I shook my head, “I don’t see a particular problem with it. But I will give you the same warning as the others. Bewitching or use of any other forms of mind control on allies, superiors and subordinates without my express permission to do so is otherwise universally forbidden. Am I clear?”
The Harpy, Skreia, nodded her head hurriedly.
Harpies were dangerous to the weak-willed because their song could cloud the mind and make people highly suggestible to the power of suggestion. It was like auditory hypnosis and could be used to devastating effect.
“Good,” I grunted in relief but was already circling back to her reason for being late, “You came from an existing community? Your flock?”
Skreia nodded, “Yes, my Tyrant.”
“You left them on good terms?” I pressed.
Skreia nodded again without hesitation, “Yes, my Tyrant. My brother, Talos, rules the roost.”
“Would you be adverse to them becoming my subordinates also?” I asked, raising my hand to stall a reply until I was finished, “They would have to abide by my laws, but would be afforded near complete autonomy otherwise. They would also be provided with a home far safer than they have now.”
Skreia did not respond right away and seemed conflicted, “I am unsure, my Tyrant,” she admitted.
“According to the Guilds records, the Harpys first appear on the eighth floor. So there is plenty of time for your new Overseer to see how the way you do things will benefit her people,” Gregory interjected diplomatically.
Skreia frowned somewhat uncertainly at Gregory’s suggestion, “Minions are permitted to speak freely?”
“Promotion and rank aren’t everything, Skreia,” I warned her neutrally, “Gregory is an important advisor, but there are others who provide valuable insights as well. Many are not promoted for one reason or another, but in Gregory’s case it is to preserve his Class Abilities for the work ahead.”
Suitably cowed, Skreia bowed her head to Gregory in apology.
“Perhaps it would be best if we returned to Sanctuary so you can see things for yourself,” I sighed somewhat tiredly. I was no more immune to mental fatigue than the Human Soldiers, and there was the meeting requested by the Dwergi to consider as well.
Wisp and Ophelia donned cloaks and hoods to conceal their true nature, and Ushu was saddled in order to prevent panic.
Leading the procession through the portal and into the restructured grand hall of the former Guild building. Now capable of supporting two or even three monsters of Ushu’s immense size, the grand hall was lined with soldiers and ballistae.
Creating a larger, more open space was more convenient, but it was also a weakness that the kingdom had to account for as well. What's more, there was the illusion of containing the Labyrinth’s monsters to maintain as well.
To that end, a platoon of garrisoned elite soldiers formed up to provide our escort to the grounds of the royal castle.
The intention was to convince spies from rival nations that Ushu and myself, as well as any other monsters in our company, were servants or Slaves of the state.
For his part, Ushu didn’t really care. He seemed perfectly content to bask in the general public's admiration, awe and fear in equal measure. Not that Ushu made a point of scaring anyone on purpose. If anything, Ushu seemed to go out of his way to posture and preen for the children amongst the small crowds that gathered ahead of us.
The three Valkyrja were surprisingly subdued during the long walk through the capital, only fussing when the noise of the crowds grew too loud.
Skreia’s initial arrogance had well and truly faded by the time we reached Ril’s gateway in the royal castle’s grounds. “There are so many Humans...and most of them are your minions...” She breathed in awe.
Gregory hid a knowing smirk.
“The dwellers of the city?” Ophelia asked somewhat distractedly while rocking her charge, “The humans have cities like this one all over.”
Skreia’s eyes widened still further in shock.
“His Majesty has the fealty of the entire kingdom,” Gregory added, “No less than five such cities and their surrounding towns, villages and hamlets. Most have been relocated, for their safety and to provide better opportunities for themselves and their children.”
Skreia stared at Gregory for a few moments and shifted uncomfortably, “You aren’t lying...” She whispered, her eyes growing somewhat unfocused as she accessed the management functions afforded by her rank, “Millions...” Skreia gasped.
“You will find that traditional monsters are in the minority,” I replied quietly, “But because of Synergies, cooperation is sought at a premium. Just in case you were wondering what yourself or your people had to offer,” I clarified before shifting everyone into the proximity of Sanctuary’s Gateway.
Skreia’s eyes widened still further as she mutely surveyed the forest of towering trees around us.
“This is Sanctuary, my home, and the home of those who need its support,” I began unstrapping Ushu’s saddle, “There is a small flock of Harpies whose parents would be glad to speak with you, I’m sure. But perhaps it would be best if Orphiel or one of the Daemons gave you a tour?”
“I am available, my Tyrant,” a pitchy voice chittered from the branches somewhere overhead.
“Garn?” I looked up and found the bat-like Daemon Garn cautiously leaving his hiding place amidst the shadows in the large tree’s branches. “You heard everything I said?” I confirmed.
Garn nodded and leapt down from the tree, arresting his fall by energetically flapping his leathery wings.
“Alright Garn,” I agreed, “And maybe ask Qreet for some assistance in making a home better suited for Harpies.”
“By your will, my Tyrant,” Garn agreed obediently before taking Skreia’s hand and leading her out into Sanctuary proper before she had a chance to voice an objection.
“I think he fancies her,” Gregory chuckled.
I paused my work on the saddle and looked at Gregory, “You think so?” I asked somewhat sceptically.
The Daemons had been practically A-sexual for as long as I had known them. Which made sense to me since they weren’t even a year old. Although it was hard to remember that sometimes due to how rapidly they grew and outright changed themselves. Then again, for all I knew, Daemons might mature in months and not years, and events like this one might become far more frequent.
“Well, he fancies her, or he is glad to have a friend to fly around with?” Gregory suggested, nodding his head towards the Garn and Skreia who were slowly flying through the oldest residential trees of Sanctuary.
“Excuse us, my Tyrant, but we have preparations to make,” Wisp apologised while discarding a soiled blanket and deftly wrapping the loose folds of his robe around the Valkyrja to keep her warm.
Gregory passed the infant Valkyrja left in his care over to Ophelia.
With the three Valkyrja now in their possession, Ophelia and Wisp began ascending into the air on immaterial wings of copper and silver light respectively.
Although he wasn’t an Angel, it was interesting that Wisp had taken to imitating them.
“After Ushu is free of his saddle, I intend to spend the rest of the day with my family,” I explained for Gregory’s benefit, “We can meet up tomorrow at Port Gidian for the council meeting, then head back to the Labyrinth for the Stonepaw’s decision. Assuming we have time.”
Gregory smirked slightly and nodded in understanding, “As you wish Majesty.”
Gregory lingered long enough to help me unstrap Ushu’s saddle before disappearing through the Gateway.
Free of his saddle, Ushu made a beeline for the Grove and I followed along behind in his wake.
We passed several large gatherings on our way to the Grove. One was a celebration of some kind, but the other two were outdoor lessons on the native human alphabet. With access to the custom labyrinth contingent on a minimum standard of literacy, it didn’t seem particularly surprising that so many people were interested in the lessons. Especially since literacy would allow them access to their own status information as well.
Entering the Grove, I was just in time to watch Ushu’s tail disappear beneath the surface of the lake.
Clarice, Hrolk, Nadine and Fesk were sitting on a large rock near the shallows, the former engaged in animated discussion, while Fesk quietly listened.
It wasn’t until I was halfway through circling around the lake that I realised that I hadn’t seen Dhizi since returning to Sanctuary. It didn’t make much sense to me that Dhizi and Clarice would be voluntarily separated considering her obsession with the scaly Beast
However, my concerns were very abruptly reprioritised as a blue-green scaly beast erupted from the water with Ushu appearing only a few moments later with his teeth bared and snarling angrily.
Too surprised to properly take everything in, it took me a while to realise that the first Beast was Dhizi, and a little while longer to reconcile that fact against her change in appearance.
Just as Clarice had hoped, Dhizi had evolved into what a layman might approximate to a dragon. However, with only four limbs, not six, Dhizi was technically a wyvern. Using her retracted wings to lope about like a grounded bat, and only a third of Ushu’s size at most, Dhizi was unquestionably at Ushu’s mercy.
“HEY! BACK OFF!” Clarice demanded angrily, stomping barefoot towards Ushu through the churned-up mud.
As suicidal as her approach seemed, Clarice did manage to convince Ushu to back off, even if it would only prove temporarily.
Ushu glared at Clarice and then back at Dhizi, who was now part way up one of the trees ringing the Grove, “MIIIINE!” He growled irritably before lunging back into the lake.
Dhizi hissed angrily towards the lake before warily clambering down the tree.
“Poor baby,come to mama,” Clarice cooed sympathetically and rubbed the giant Beast’s neck.
Dhizi let out a chittering hiss that might have approximated a whimper.
“That big meanie didn’t hurt you did he?” Clarice stepped back and gave Dhizi a quick look over before hugging her neck again.
“I see Dhizi Evolved while we were gone,” I commented somewhat awkwardly, drawing everyone's attention toward me in the process.
“What the hell was that about?!” Clarice demanded, “I thought that bloody lizard would have been happy to have another Dragon around!”
“You mean a Wyvern.” I corrected her without fully thinking it through.
“What?” Clarice glared.
Realising I was already committed, I let out a long sigh. “Dragons have four legs and one or more pairs of wings, Wyverns just have one pair of legs...”
Clarice just stared back at me incredulously.
“Look, so far as I can tell, Ushu is just protecting his claim over his territory,” I explained with a shrug, “Finding Dhizi, and probably not recognising her, in his territory, it probably just set him off. Imagine how you would react if you found someone you didn’t recognise in your room?”
Clarice’s conviction faltered.
“It probably doesn’t help either that Ushu has been straight up murdering monsters for the past twenty-four hours,” I added, “He’s probably still on edge. I’d give him a few hours before trying to reintroduce Dhizi to the lake. Well...That and bribing him with gold would probably do the trick.”
“Gold?” Clarice looked at me as if I were crazy, “What’s a Dragon gonna do with gold?”
“Hoard it,” I replied matter-of-factly while looking to Nadine for support.
Unfortunately, Nadine seemed just as confused as Clarice.
“Hoard it?” Clarice parroted, “You mean like, just dumping it somewhere?”
I shifted uncomfortably, “More or less. He certainly likes the ring I gave him.”
Clarice looked at the lake and frowned thoughtfully.
I took the opportunity to get a better look at Dhizi.
Contrary to my expectations, Dhizi hadn’t actually changed all that much. Her chest and ribs had close to doubled in overall size, and her thighs had thickened somewhat to better support herself on land. Dhizi’s neck had nearly doubled in length but still held its original proportionate thickness. As near as I could tell, Dhizi’s forelimbs had elongated in almost every respect in order to facilitate their change into leathery wings. It was actually a little disconcerting that I hadn’t recognised her sooner, especially since her colouration hadn’t changed at all.
Gently stroking Dhizi’s neck, I could still feel her pulse racing. “Maybe we should ask Cin to make Dhizi her own little grotto or something?” I suggested guiltily, “That way she will have access to the mana-rich lake without agitating Ushu. Perhaps even allow them to get used to sharing the space in the long term.”
Clarice nodded, but she still didn’t seem happy, “You could also just make him share,” she stated flatly.
I wasn't so sure about that. I was under the impression that Ushu did as I asked because I made very few demands of him. He was not so much a subordinate as a motivated ally. Making demands related to his living arrangements would be asking for trouble.
“Maybe Cin can make another grotto for Ushu after making one for Dhizi?” I suggested diplomatically, “It would probably be better for the both of them anyway, especially if Ushu establishes a hoard.”
Clarice grunted and led Dhizi away. She seemed more than a little disappointed, but whether it was with how events had played out, or my reaction to them, was unclear.
“Clarice has been just about bragging non-stop since Dhizi Evolved that she would be setting her up with Ushu,” Nadine explained with some apparent embarrassment, “So you can see how this is something of a setback,” she smiled wryly and tucked a loose lock of her auburn hair back behind her ear.
“I don’t know why she is pushing so hard for it,” I muttered, “Dhizi is barely a couple of months old, and I have no idea how old Ushu is...And so far as we know, the Dragon and Wyvern mating cycles could be decades away.”
Nadine blushed slightly and shrugged, “Believe me, I tried telling her, but Clarice was having none of it.”
“Well...Like I told her, Ushu’s going to need time to get used to Dhizi being in ‘his’ territory,” I explained, “Before Dhizi Evolved, she didn’t seem like much of a threat. But now? Her wingspan alone makes her seem much larger than she actually is, and Ushu doesn’t fully appreciate how much bigger he is by that same method of comparison. So he is treating her like a threat. Or at least that’s my best guess.”
“You're probably right,” Nadine agreed, “Ushu is probably juuuust smart enough now to overthink things like that.”
Fesk nodded in agreement but made no comment.
A short silence passed between us.
“Are Lash and the twins in the lake? Or?...” I glanced back toward the cave that served as our home.
“With mothers,” Hrolk explained hurriedly and pointed back the way I had come. Without being asked, she began moving to show me the way.
I followed Hrolk back into Sanctuary proper and toward the orchards.
Hordes of small children were swarming the lower branches of the fruit trees and shrieking happily as they gorged themselves on literally low-hanging fruit.
For the most part, the children were left to their own devices while a select few guardians prowled amongst them and broke up any fights that became too serious.
On the periphery, mothers with younger children, like Lash, were sitting in small groups while their children rolled and crawled about in the grass. Or in Pete’s case, sunbathed like a beached walrus.
Just so happening to look up at the right moment, Lash smiled and waved me over before rearranging her social group to make room.
The moment I sat down, Suzy stopped chasing a Goblin a third of her size and hurriedly crawled over to me instead, “Da!” She exclaimed excitedly while climbing over my shins and pulling herself up my surcoat.
Just as I began to lift Suzy up into a hug, Pete flopped into my lap before and promptly fell asleep again. “Well, at least they are happy to see me,” I chuckled before blowing a raspberry on Suzy’s belly.
Suzy shrieked in surprise and flailed her arms and legs wildly. Realising she wasn’t in danger, Suzy’s shrieks of surprise quickly turned into laughter.
Lash smiled and stroked Pete’s hair, “We are all happy to see you,” she amended, “They are too young to understand where you go and why. They will understand when they are older.”
I sighed and nodded in agreement, hoping that Lash was right. Every floor I added to my own Labyrinth helped raise the collective strength and security of everyone sheltered within my Demi-Plane. I sincerely hoped that my immediate involvement would only be necessary for another ten floors before the Asrusian army would become capable of snowballing the gains by out-levelling the next prospective floors in the capital’s Labyrinth.
Progress would very likely become slower. However, with access to both Synergies and a relatively safe training space, it would only be a matter of time before the entire Mordran Labyrinth was Conquered and Assimilated. The next time I faced the Liche and its minions, things would be set to go very differently.
*****
Pachcov wearily crested the heavily forested hilltop and released a sigh of relief as his tired eyes fell upon the trading border town of Kogalensk.
Pachcov wasn’t the only one in his platoon that was glad for the reprieve. The Asrusians had not been the complete pushovers that Pachcov’s superiors had insisted they would be. Having spent over a month skirmishing with the Asrusian Rangers, Pachcov was looking forward to hot food, a hot bath and whatever woman he convinced to share a warm bed with him for the night.
Despite the hardships they had been through, Pachcov was profoundly grateful that his platoon had been sent on reconnaissance in force.
As brutal as the Asrusian Rangers had been on their home turf, Pachcov could rest easy in the knowledge that the Asrusians wouldn’t dare cross the border while their country was in a protracted state of collapse. So far as Pachcov was concerned, the Rangers would all be dead or turned bandit by the time Pachcov was ordered to cross the border again.
After losing so many comrades to ambushes and traps in the Asrusian wildlands, Pachcov took grim satisfaction in the knowledge that their sacrifices had ultimately been worth it. The Werrian Empire would ultimately prevail.
Unable to completely shake his paranoia, Pachcov continued towards the town through the woods instead of taking the road with the main army. Falling into bad habits could prove fatal, especially if the new Legate was chosen as quickly as the last.
As best as Pachcov could figure, the high command were most likely attempting to goad the Confederates into overextending their supply lines and shoulder the losses from confronting the remaining forces of the Asrusian military and whatever militias they could rally.
When the Empire returned in force, Pachcov was confident that they would be able to deliver the Confederates a decisive blow and grind their army down through an otherwise gruelling war of attrition. As brutal as skirmishing against the Rangers had been, Pachcov was glad that he would not be involved in much of the fighting going forward.
The Confederates prescribed similar military doctrines as the Empire, and the Empire had a significantly larger army. With the price of Slaves being what they were, the question wasn’t if the Empire would win, but when.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Dolahov muttered grumpily, eyeing the late afternoon sky suspiciously.
“Afraid the Rangers are waiting for you to close your eyes?” Chernikov taunted maliciously, his sneer of contempt twisting the ugly ragged scar that dominated the right side of his face.
Pachcov sighed and did his best to tune out the bickering. He felt like voicing a few complaints of his own, but thought better of it. Women loved a man with scars, but Chernicov had the detestable trait of escalating minor conflicts to matters of life or death, and Pachcov figured his chances of finding a willing woman to share his bed would be greater if he still had a pulse.
The regular army reached the gates of Kogalensk well ahead of Pachcov and the other scouts, having moved with much greater speed along the trade road than scrambling through the woodlands. Keenly aware that the best inns, taverns and bunkhouses would be packed to the rafters by the time he made it into the city, Pachcov consoled himself with the knowledge that he wouldn’t have wasted his coins on those establishments in the first place.
Pachcov’s parents were getting on in years, and with Yuri still missing and presumed dead, Pachcov intended to buy a Slave to take care of his parents in his absence. Slaves were generally quite cheap, but Pachcov refused to settle for a vagrant debtor or savage taking care of his parents. Unfortunately, that raised the expected price considerably. Even with four months of active duty wages, and the bounties his platoon had collected, Pachcov knew it was going to be close enough already to require some hardline haggling on his end.
By the time Pachcov and the other scouts arrived at the gate, the guards on watch duty seemed to have had enough of things already and just waved them through in silence. Although profoundly lax and lazy, Pachcov wasn’t going to look a gift Thror in the maw and continued into the town.
The townsfolk were all bundled up in light or heavy furs to ward against the chill winds blowing down from the mountains, but a handful here and there gave ragged cheers as the regular soldiers passed through the streets.
Seeing his chance, and glad for the local townspeople's patriotism, Pachcov retrieved his Sergeant’s insignia from his belt pouch and pinned it to the fur cap peeking out from beneath his helmet. Pachcov’s dress uniform was still in his pack, so he hoped that bearing the insignia on his cap would draw a few nibbles of interest.
Wetting the end of his scarf with water from his canteen, Pachcov improved his odds by giving his face and neck a quick but thorough cleaning before crushing a flower and rubbing its thin oils behind his ears.
Pachcov didn’t care what the others thought, women had never passed him over for smelling more of flowers than sweat and spoiled grease.
Feeling considerably more confident, Pachcov began brazenly searching the crowds of the townspeople for unescorted women as he made his way towards the local garrison. Not expecting to have much luck until he had made a better effort of washing himself down, Pachcov nearly had a heart attack upon realising he had secured the undivided attention of two young beauties.
Standing beneath the porch of what had to be their parents' home, the two women had dark black hair, piercing intense blue eyes and fair pale skin. With only a small height difference between them and no sign of wrinkles, Pachcov could only assume they were sisters. The smaller, and Pachcov assumed to be the younger sister, blushed coyly while the older sister smiled brazenly at Pachcov and licked her lips seductively.
Crediting his good fortune to the Sergeant's insignia boldly displayed on his cap, Pachcov approached the pair of young women with a spring in his step. Well past thirty, he had not expected to draw the attention of a woman a handful of years younger than himself at most and had admittedly been prepared to settle for far older.
“Ladies,” Pachcov bowed roguishly, removing his cap and helmet with practised ease.
The younger woman tittered and blushed harder, hiding her face behind her hands and peeking at Pachcov from between her fingers.
“Sergeant,” the older sister inclined her head slightly and gave a small curtsy, “Are you staying in town long?” She asked breathily, tracing her finger down from her rich red lips, down her neck and drawing Pachcov’s focus to her heaving and ample cleavage exposed through her fur coat.
“At least for the night,” Pachcov replied, doing his best to keep the nervousness from his voice.
“I am Anna Vichenko, and this is my sister Mira,” Anna motioned to her sister without breaking eye contact, her intense blue eyes staring hungrily into Pachcov’s own.
“Sergeant Pachcov Timuovich,” Pachcov replied eagerly, taking several steps closer.
“My dear Mira and I have been so lonely since our parents passed,” Anna pouted sadly while batting her eyelashes, “It would be nice if a strong man such as yourself would join us for dinner, Sergeant Pachcov.”
Pachcov ver nearly fainted but managed to stay standing through an act of sheer will. “M-My condolences, ah, but of course, I will join you!” Pachcov agreed eagerly.
Anna smiled in delight and opened the door to their home.
Mira, still hiding her face behind her hands, raced inside, much to her sister’s apparent amusement.
“Mira will set a bath for you Sergeant,” Ana explained with a lascivious smirk, “After all, we do so like the smell of flowers.”
Cursing his companions for fools, Pachcov eagerly crossed the threshold.
With the sky overcast as it was, the sisters had resorted to illuminating each room of the house with mana-lamps. It was just as well since the chill would have passed through the open windows otherwise.
Pachcov followed Anna through to the kitchen where her sister Mira was busily setting a fire beneath a large kettle in the fireplace.
Wanting to show off his muscles, and some of his more attractive and impressive scars, Pachcov stripped down to his britches in anticipation of his bath.
No doubt encouraged by his state of undress, Anna pawed at his chest and back with her delicate yet firm fingers. “So manly,” she cooed breathily.
Pachcov did his best to flex without making it too obvious that he was doing it on purpose.
It wasn’t until Mira began pouring the boiling hot water from the kettle into the lukewarm water of a tub that Pachcov realised he had gotten somewhat carried away and lost track of time.
“We will leave you to get ready,” Anna insisted with an obvious reluctance that threatened to overwhelm Pachcov’s waning sense of reason and restraint. “And we will get ready for you,” she smirked and took her sister by the shoulder, “Come Mira...”
Stripping down, Pachcov felt certain he could probably have boiled the water in the tub all on his own. Making liberal use of the pale bar of washing soap left on a stool by the tub, and aggressively applying a thick bristle brush, Pachcov risked scrubbing himself raw just to make sure he wouldn’t disappoint. If the sisters rejected him now, Pachcov wasn’t sure he could live with himself.
It was only after leaving the tub that Pachcov realised that there wasn’t a blanket or sheet for him to dry himself with. However, after thinking about it for a hundredth of a second, he realised that it was most likely by design.
Sure enough, a few moments later, the two sisters, now equally undressed as he was, made their way into the kitchen.
Mira was still covering her face in embarrassment, but Anna owned her nakedness with confidence that beggared belief.
Before Pachcov realised what he was doing, he lunged at Anna and pressed her lips against his. Anna nibbled his lower lip in turn and Pachcov felt Mira pressing herself up against him from behind. Preparing to take things further, Pachcov froze as ice-cold pain radiated through his neck.
From the corner of his eye, Pachcov could see the top of Mira’s head.
All at once, Anna’s playful nibbling ended and she smiled at Pachcov hungrily.
Feeling profoundly weak, Pachcov’s vision began to fail.
“You’re so greedy Mira!” Anna scolded, still smiling and now baring inch-long canines, “This is why mother and father aren’t around to take care of us anymore, you just don't know when to stop!”
The pressure on Pachcov’s neck abruptly disappeared and he fell into Anna’s waiting arms. Unable to defend himself, Pachcov weakly moaned in terror as Anna’s mouth descended towards his unprotected neck.
“I do so love the smell of flowers,” Anna whispered in amusement. Then her teeth sank into Pachcov's throat and everything turned black.