Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 54 - Champions of Tyranny - Part Two

Even with access to teleportation items, it took the Asrusian strike force the better part of a week to arrive at their intended destination. This was partly due to Faine requiring additional members to be recruited to the strike force as his Bodyguards.

So long as I was taking advantage of my mana replenishment exploit and sitting in the mana-rich lake, the remote perception through the Tyrant’s Champion Ability could be maintained for about two and a half hours at a time without risking running out of mana.

The shared perception was exactly that. I couldn’t read their minds or emotions and was restricted to what they could hear, see, smell and touch. This meant that my field of view and ability to hear was often restricted by the three Champion’s helmets.

Despite dressing up like low-grade adventurers, the older soldiers, including the Champions, had chosen to wear helmets to conceal their age and Asrusian ethnicity.

I found it difficult to determine individual ethnicities, but apparently, the locals didn’t have much trouble at all.

With no shortage of Adventurer Guild documents in storage, the Champions and other strike force members had no problems gaining access to the first floor of the Trost Labyrinth.

To avoid undue suspicion, the hundred strong members of the strike force entered the city of Trost and its Labyrinth in small groups spread out throughout the day.

Faine, Randle and Jayne holed up inside a private room in the inn while the adventurers serving as their cover wandered around outside.

“I wish that Scavenger would arrive already,” Randle muttered irritably, “I feel practically naked in this flimsy crap,” he gave his boiled leather cuirass a disparaging thump for good measure.

“I don’t mind the armour so much,” Jayne replied with a wistful sigh, “But it felt like I only had Verdant Wave for a few moments before having to give it up...”

Randle nodded in agreement, “Five days didn’t feel like nearly enough.”

“We have a job to do,” Faine stated in a strained tone. Most likely intending to signal to his cousins that I was watching everything they were doing.

Jayne and Randle both stared at Faine for a few moments, shrugged, and returned to waiting in silence.

Leaving them to their own devices, for the time being, I visited the hospital to check on Emelia and Tobi.

Physically, the pair had somewhat wasted away during their prolonged vegetative state. The last of the negative energies had been drained from their bodies a few days earlier, allowing them to recuperate to a certain degree. However, Emelia and Tobi had remained comatose for too long and didn’t seem capable of regaining consciousness on their own.

To that end, Wraithe had conscripted several Daemons to assist her with telepathically invading their minds.

I had initially been against the idea, but the longer Emelia and Tobi persisted in a comatose state, their risk of developing potentially fatal disorders would exponentially increase.

They had been making some degree of headway with Emelia, managing to make contact with her subconscious for short periods at a time. Unfortunately, Tobi was not so fortunate. Of all the survivors, Tobi had been hit the hardest and even lost a limb outright to the Liche’s attack.

“It must have damaged his brain,” Wraithe whispered dispiritedly, “We keep searching, but no matter how deep we go, we can’t find anything to latch onto.”

I stared at Tobi’s withered frame and shock-white hair, “Have you tried using bait?” I asked with a profound sense of reluctance.

“Bait?” Wraithe asked curiously, her interest piqued.

“You’re fishing. More or less. So it would make sense that you would be more successful with the right kind of bait,” I replied obliquely, “We shall try his parents first.”

I concentrated on my mana and braced myself for the worst.

*Tingling*

A tall middle-aged couple with dark hair materialised in front of me in the hospital hallway. Their heads slowly tilted upward and their eyes grew wide in fear.

Admittedly, I should have thought things through a little better.

“Carlos and Lauretta Ashwood, I mean you no harm,” I stepped back and revealed the doorway to Emelia and Tobi’s room.

Before I could say a word, Lauretta bolted through the door, “TOBI!”

The Daemons moved away to give her space and generally attempted to appear less intimidating.

“Your son was injured fighting a powerful undead,” I explained soberly while Tobi’s father slowly staggered after his wife. “He has been provided the best medical care available but-”

“They wouldn’t tell us where he was...” Carlos stated hoarsely while fighting back tears, “We kept asking after him, but the soldiers just kept saying they were looking into it, or inquiries were being made on our behalf...” He looked down at his broken son and began to cry, “With his older brother lost to us...he’s all we have left...”

Lauretta stared at Tobi with almost manic desperation in her eyes as she gently tried to shake him awake with stiff hands and arms, “Tobi, Tobi! It’s time to wake up!”

“Marco isn’t dead,” I told them warily.

Carlos looked shocked, his walrus moustache quivering in trepidation as he attempted to look me in the eye, “Not dead?” He choked, “B-b-b-but he’s...” His voice failed.

“One of them? A Vampyr?” I hazarded.

“Dead...” Carlos whispered as a host of conflicting emotions warred across his face, “Y-You...Th-the soldiers...” He didn’t seem capable of completing his sentence aloud.

“We didn’t kill him,” I answered truthfully, “I owed Tobi that much at the very least. He is searching for the one who did this to Tobi.”

“When they had us tied up in the basement...They made him choose who would be taken...” Carlos explained with a haunted expression on his face, “I...I wanted to try and stop him, b-but...”He glanced at his wife and then lowered his eyes, “I couldn’t...”

My intense hatred of what Marco paled before the guilt and sympathy I felt for his parents. “He didn’t try to run. Marco wanted to take responsibility for what he did.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. The events surrounding Marco’s capture made things almost impossible to reduce down to a simple answer. “It’s like Enslavement, or so I have been told. Creatively...Choosing to interpret his orders the way he did, it likely was all he was able to do.” I turned my attention to Wraithe, “Let me know if anything changes.”

Leaving the hospital, I returned to The Grove and set about practising swimming.

Unlike Lash and the Lizardmen who helped keep an eye on our children, I couldn’t breathe water or hold my breath for particularly long periods. So swimming practice was practically mandatory if I intended to spend more time with my children.

Most of Lash’s Deep Orc Bodyguards had Evolved into Swamp Orcs solely to make themselves available in an emergency. Those who hadn’t were positioned in hidden observation perches around the periphery of The Grove’s interior.

Objectively, I knew that the probability of an enemy being capable of invading my Demi-Plane was practically non-existent. However, the added security made me feel much more at ease.

Late in the evening, the Champions and greater strikeforce began to move.

Joined by an Apprentice Earth Mage and a Scavenger, Faine, Randle and Jayne had begun swapping out their generic adventuring equipment for recovered armour and weapons from the Golden Boar mercenary company.

Staring at the communication device in Randle’s free hand, the five of them waited for the signal.

Minutes passed by in tense silence, and then the light of the communication device began to flicker.

“We’re on,” Randle grunted grimly as he stowed the communication device and withdrew a nasty-looking club from his belt.

Jayne was holding a large bladed sword by the door and nodded, “Remember, no Asrusian,” she insisted in a strange accent and then opened the door.

Two other teams wearing the same uniform had already left their rooms and were quietly descending the stairs ahead of them.

Descending the stairs revealed two more teams already in the process of tying up the innkeeper and a host of unconscious adventurers splayed out drunkenly on the floor and their respective tables.

Without saying a word, the Champions’ team left the inn and headed straight for the guild office where another team of undercover soldiers were waiting for them.

Randle gave the other team a firm nod and motioned toward the main door to the guild office.

A tall woman from the other team, most likely their leader, nodded and slowly began turning the door handle. She held up her free hand and began counting down from five with her fingers. The moment she reached zero, the woman yanked the door wide and her team rushed through into the guild office.

There was a muffled shriek, most likely from one of the counter staff.

The Champions’ team entered the building shortly afterwards. However, instead of lingering in the lobby and assisting the other team, they headed straight for the back rooms. Passing a pair of terrified staff members, they continued through the back rooms to the stairs and made their way down into the basement.

Once everyone was clear, the Scavenger retrieved a solid wooden bar from his extradimensional space and fitted it into special mounting hooks. Effectively locking the door firmly shut.

Continuing into the basement, the Champions passed by rows of empty cages and continued toward a seemingly bare wall.

“I got this,” the Apprentice Earth Mage grunted and pressed both palms against the wall. Closing his eyes and humming loudly, he slowly began moving his hands over the brickwork. “Found it!” He gave a perfectly unassuming brick a hard shove with both hands.

The brick barely moved, but it seemed sufficient enough all the same.

A large panel of the brick wall slowly began grinding backward, revealing a second set of stairs that descended deeper underground.

Unlike the basement, the newly revealed stairs were completely unlit, so the Scavenger withdrew a lantern and moved to the front of the group.

Descending the stairs, the poor air quality made it abundantly clear that no one had entered in a very long time. All the same, the Asrusians continued their descent with absolute confidence.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs revealed a large door of petrified wood and mildly corroded iron bands and hinges.

“One moment, “I’ll check for traps,” the Apprentice Earth Mage volunteered before repeating his earlier actions used in locating the hidden entrance. Only this time, he pressed both hands against the floor instead. “I don’t sense anything amiss,” he declared somewhat disappointedly before backing away from the door, “But our objective is definitely on the other side.”

Randle moved forward and kicked the door in, snapping the bolt of the lock and revealing the chamber beyond.

Almost completely barren, the chamber held only one object of interest. A statue of a terrified scantily clad young woman stood atop a wide plinth with her head turned aside and arms raised in an attempt to shield herself from an unknown danger.

“The plinth is what we are after,” the Apprentice Earth Mage pointed beneath the statue.

Approaching the statue revealed an almost impossible degree of detail. Even the woman’s dress had fine threads and seams.

“I’ll get it out of the way,” the Scavenger volunteered quietly and placed one hand on the right arm of the statue.

Nothing happened.

“I...I don’t understand...” The Scavenger whispered hoarsely, “It should have worked!”

“Maybe it’s too heavy?” the Apprentice Earth Mage suggested, “It has to weigh at least half a ton.”

“Or perhaps you have reached the limit of your Ability?” Jayne suggested helpfully.

“No,” the Scavenger determinedly shook his head, “I have loads of space left. The only things that should stop my Ability are when the object is in immediate possession of someone else. Like when they are holding onto it. Or...Oh no...” The Scavenger retreated slightly and made a gagging sound.

“What is it?!” Faine demanded while casting his eyes about the room for signs of danger.

Already quite familiar with the Ability myself, I felt my stomach clench in anger and revulsion.

“I can’t store a person...” The Scavenger explained weakly.

Muted curses echoed through the chamber as each member of the team expressed their disgust and outrage.

“Well we still need to remove it-I mean her, so we can destroy the Totem,” Randle insisted, stowing his club and setting aside his shield.

Jayne nodded in agreement and set aside her sword.

The Scavenger materialised a large pile of canvas and ropes, “You should be able to set her down on this,” He hurriedly set about shifting the canvas and ropes to better support the statue.

Between the two of them, Randle and Jayne managed to dislodge the statue from the plinth and lay it down on the canvas and ropes.

With the statue now out of the way, the Scavenger gave each member of the team a sledge or splitting chisel.

I wasn’t fully convinced that the plinth was a Totem. There was still a relatively high chance that it was just a powerful Ward. So far as I was aware, none of the other footholds had reacted similarly to the Goblin Raid when I Conquered them.

But perhaps that was the difference.

Thus far, I hadn’t been forced to defend my territory. Furthermore, the territory I had taken from the Liche in Mournbrent’s Labyrinth had been a straightforward affair as well.

So why were they wasting time removing the enemy Totem? If indeed that is what it was.

Making a mental note to ask Gregory that very question, I watched the Champions’ team systematically take apart the plinth one blow at a time. Even with the correct tools for the job, it was slow going.

On a whim, I decided to try something.

*Tingling*

Despite the arduous labour, all five Humans fell silent upon hearing the chime.

Currently limited to Faine’s perspective, it took a few moments for him to confirm the generic male Mountain Orc Spearman in their midst.

Without being asked, the Mountain Orc picked up a sledgehammer and began aggressively hammering at the plinth.

Interesting...

I had attempted to Summon Gorik, one of the Mountain Orc residents of Sanctuary. As best I could tell, I had only succeeded in using a lesser version of the Ability.

Momentarily distancing myself from Faine’s perception, I was disappointed to find that the mana cost had been considerably greater than I had anticipated. At a rough guess, the Lesser Summoning had cost five times more than the Summoning I had intended.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Did anyone tell you that...ahem, HE, could do that?” Jayne asked curiously.

Faine and Randle both shook their heads and continued watching the Mountain Orc for a few moments before getting back to work.

“The Synergies make it much easier going,” the Apprentice Earth Mage commented happily, “I just wish I was a proper Earth Mage...This sort of thing would be no problem.”

“You found the door,” Jayne replied supportively, “That was far more important. Besides, this is nothing a little extra effort won’t solve.

The Mountain Orc grunted in agreement without breaking his rhythm.

After about half an hour, the plinth was reduced to a pile of loose rubble and the obelisk Totem of Sanctuary stood in its place.

“It’s about time we begin, isn’t it?” Randle observed impatiently.

“After we perform one last scouring of the Foothold,” Jayne replied evenly, “In any case, it would be best if we secured the holding room above while Faine remains below.”

“I’ll stay too,” the Scavenger volunteered, “Better to keep our supply line defended, right?” He asked somewhat nervously.

“Indeed,” Jayne agreed without commenting on his nervousness, “But it would be best if you laid out some emergency supplies in the room above first. Just in case.”

The Scavenger nodded obediently and fell into line as Faine was left on his own with the Mountain Orc.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Faine bowed to the empty air, “We had been unsure of what to expect and will endeavour to be better prepared next time.”

The Mountain Orc stared blankly at Faine for a few moments, shrugged, and then sat down in a corner to conserve his energy.

I shifted perspective from Faine to Randle just as the Scavenger headed back down the stairs.

The cages had all disappeared from the holding room and several straw cots now lay in their place alongside barrels of water and crates of preserved food.

“I’ll go check the perimeter,” Randle volunteered, “While you check in with the others. Agreed?”

Jayne nodded, “Agreed.”

Randle made his way up the stairs and found the guild staff members and manager bound, gagged, and manacled in the sorting room under guard by five members of the strike force.

“Should we move them to the inn alongside the others?” The leader of the team asked in yet another strange accent I hadn’t heard before.

Randle seemed to consider the prisoners for a few moments before nodding his assent, “Do it,” he replied grimly in a clipped version of the same accent.

Moving on, Randle made a point of checking each building thoroughly before inspecting the prisoners being kept in the inn.

It was hard to tell how many prisoners had been taken exactly, but it seemed to be somewhere between fifty and a hundred, all told. The overwhelming majority of them were unconscious but seemed to be unharmed. However, a few of the prisoners had the beginnings of nasty bruises on their faces or swelling bumps on their heads.

Satisfied with what he found, Randle made his way to the Foothold gate where twenty undercover soldiers were waiting for him.

“Just as planned, your men will take the first shift,” Randle told a man with the Golden Boars’ lieutenant insignia, “I will assist, for a time, but I do not think the Felis will pose much of a threat.”

“Sir!” The Lieutenant snapped a crisp salute and began dividing his men between positions atop the wall and between the open space of the gate.

Most monsters, especially the Beasts, wouldn’t attempt alternate routes when an obvious and direct path presented itself. So as long as the gate was left open, the Beasts, at the very least, would make pushing through that opening their priority.

Running low on mana because of the unintended blowout from earlier, I was forced to temporarily drop the connection.

Upon reestablishing the connection again, I wasn’t surprised to find Randle in the thick of things.

The Conquest had begun and wild monsters were swarming toward the open gate in droves. Fewer in number thanks to the other Conquest being conducted out in the wilds, the Beasts presented very little threat.

However, the Felis were another matter altogether.

Bearing a striking resemblance to Gnolls and Kobolds, the Felis were relatively short anthropomorphic feline humanoids that appeared to be as comfortable running on all four limbs as two. Standing only four and a half feet tall on their hind legs, the Felis were incredibly quick and agile. While moving on all fours, the Felis could all but disappear into the tall grass that surrounded the Foothold.

Favouring primitive projectiles, such as thrown rocks and spears, the Felis avoided melee with extreme prejudice.

Frustrated by the hit-and-run tactics of the Felis, Randle left the relative safety of the gate and waded into the tall grass.

No doubt having waited for this moment, a dozen Felis leapt out of the grass all around Randle and bore down on him with their bared fangs and hooked claws.

Unfortunately for the Felis, Randle’s seeming recklessness was a trap.

Arrows scythed through the Felis ambushers mid-leap, felling most of them.

Stepping to the side, Randle bashed his spiked shield into the chest of one airborne Felis while backhanding another with his club.

Badly injured, the Felis put up little more than a token resistance as Randle dashed their skulls open.

With the example set, Randle returned to the front lines and joined in repelling the wild Beasts.

An occasional rock or spear was thrown from the safety of the tall grass, but none of the surviving Felis seemed willing to shorten the distance enough for such attacks to prove little more than an annoyance.

With the Summoned Mountain Orc almost out of mana, I decided to try remote Summoning again. This time, I tried to Summon Rikit, the head Matriarch of Sanctuary’s growing Gnoll population.

Unfortunately, I only succeeded in Summoning another lesser copy.

However, the Gnoll Pack Frenzy Ability quickly turned the fighting at the gate into an utterly one-sided meat grinder. Thanks to Pack Frenzy, Bloodied Beasts were dispatched in a single blow.

Low on mana again, I was forced to take another break.

Instead of checking on the Champions again right away, I decided to Summon Gregory instead so I could get some answers.

Unfortunately, I had not accounted for the ‘shallows’ of the lake being deeper than he was tall and had to perform an emergency cancellation on the Summon before making my way to shore and trying again.

“Sorry about that, Gregory,” I apologised somewhat sheepishly, “I forgot how deep it was.”

Wearing a strained smile Gregory bowed, “Not at all, Majesty. There is nothing to apologise for,” he insisted somewhat weakly, “I should have anticipated the conditions of my arrival...”

An awkward silence began to build between us.

“Be that as it may, I will endeavour to be more considerate in the future,” I promised. The act of Summoning imprinted a certain degree of expectation on the person being Summoned. If I had recognised how deep it had been and urgently needed to Summon Gregory anyway, he would have known and been prepared for it. “What do you know about the Adventurer Guild’s Footholds?” I asked, both as a means of changing the subject and getting to the reason for which I Summoned him in the first place.

Gregory stared at me for a moment and I got the impression that I had uncovered something that he had been deliberately keeping from me. “Beyond their role as a haven for adventurers?” Gregory hazarded with an impressively innocent tone.

“Indeed,” I grunted and narrowed my eyes a fraction.

“Several encoded documents were recovered during the raid on the Adventurers Guild's main branch of offices in the capitol. Deciphering most of the contents of the documents has been beyond us thus far, but what we have been able to translate has several disturbing implications...”

“Like the Guild having its own Lord of the Labyrinths?” I pressed somewhat testily.

Gregory made as if to flinch but stopped himself, “Yes, Majesty...”

“When were you going to tell me?” I asked while silently adjusting the degree to which I would trust Gregory in the future.

There was an awkward silence.

“You weren’t going to tell me,” I realised and stated as much aloud.

“Well...We don’t know for certain yet, and there are more pressing matters-” Gregory tried to explain before I silenced him with a glare.

“Have I not been generous?” I asked in a cold tone to cover the betrayal I was feeling, “Haven’t I given your people safety, security and prosperity?”

Gregory winced and hung his shoulders guiltily.

“What conceivable reason could you have for keeping something like this from me?” I demanded icily, “If the Guild has its own Lord, then they have to already know what WE have been up to. Given the lack of reprisals, I’m inclined to think the situation is very likely far more complicated-” I paused and glared at Gregory accusingly, “Which the Regent already considered!” I hissed angrily, “That maybe, just maybe, their Lord is being held against their will!”

Gregory flinched at every syllable but stood his ground.

I took several deep breaths to calm myself down. “I am inclined to disagree,” I stated with exaggerated calm.

Gregory looked surprised.

“The strike team uncovered a statue of a terrified young woman in the same chamber where the supposed Totem was hidden,” I explained in a more genuine calm tone of voice and temperament, “Except, the statue isn’t a statue at all.” I carefully watched Gregory’s face for signs of guilt or surprise but found neither. “It’s not a statue at all, but I think you already knew that.”

“Statue?” Contrary to my expectations Gregory seemed to be genuinely confused.

“A petrified human,” I clarified while keenly watching Gregory for signs of deception.

“Petrification...” Gregory grew visibly concerned, “Not many monsters can do that...”

“Can it be reversed?” I asked with guarded curiosity.

“I’m not sure,” Gregory replied, “It might depend upon the monster responsible. This isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

I dismissed Gregory’s projection and Summoned Sebet in his place.

Initially appearing in her Devil form, Sebet was quick to adopt her Scandinavian supermodel persona. “How may I serve you, Great One?”

“How do you cure Petrification?” The question was a shot in the dark, but Sebet had already demonstrated that she knew things I wouldn’t have expected her to know.

“Petrification? Hrm...” Sebet maintained a contemplative silence for a few minutes before slowly nodding her head. “Well, the traditional route would be to kill the individual responsible for the Curse and paint the victim in their blood. Of course, a properly phrased Contract ‘might’ break the Curse for the right price, and Divinity could break just about any Curse....”

“Sebet, I have decided to extend your authority to include additional responsibilities. Assuming you are willing?” On an intellectual level, I had always assumed Gregory would know things I didn’t, and that he would withhold certain information from time to time for one reason or another. However, in this instance, I found the Regent’s justification for compelling Gregory to silence to be profoundly insulting.

“To serve is my greatest desire!” Sebet replied with absolute conviction.

“I will require an oath of full disclosure as part of this expanded authority,” I cautioned, allowing Sebet the opportunity to back out.

Sebet furrowed her brow slightly but otherwise showed no signs of doubt or reservation, “This oath would only be between us?” She clarified warily.

“Correct. I may ask you to extend the oath to others at a later date, but we will discuss it as the situations arise.” I agreed.

Sebet released a small sigh and nodded determinedly, “Then I swear that I will disclose any information upon request, and will not knowingly omit information deemed pertinent to any request,” Sebet swore solemnly. She shuddered as the oath settled into her soul.

“Sebet, you will be responsible for collecting information from our enemies and allies. In the pursuit of these responsibilities, you are exempted from certain laws on the condition that you seek out and receive my approval first. You are free to recruit subordinates into your Faction as you see fit, but I expect you to maintain a base of operations outside of Sanctuary proper. Am I understood?” I watched and waited while Sebet thought through the offer.

“Great One?” Sebet asked with tentative curiosity, “When you spoke about conditional exemption from certain laws, what does that entail exactly?”

“You would be free to use the full scope of your Abilities on our allies, is one such example,” I replied grimly, “Of course, you already have free reign to use those Abilities on our enemies,” I reminded her.

Sebet’s eyes widened slightly and her mouth twitched, “And...And my subordinates would be following the same code of conduct?”

“They would,” I agreed, “Under the same conditions. Your subordinates will be expected to swear oaths of full disclosure as well. Ultimately, the final responsibility for their actions will be yours.”

Sebet nodded in understanding with a sage-like expression on her face as if she had expected as much.

“To assist you in your duties, I am going to share the Summon Servant Ability with you,” I suppressed a smile as Sebet’s eyes widened to an almost impossible degree, “I know you will make good use of it.”

“Of course, Great One!” Sebet declared excitedly, “And if I may make a request?”

I motioned for her to continue.

“I would like to establish my base of operations in the isolated prison Gric has spoken of!” Sebet declared eagerly.

“Prison?...Oh!” It took me a few moments to realise what she meant but it made a great deal of sense given the new responsibilities I had assigned to her. “You will need to ask Cin if you want the remodelling done,” I cautioned her.

Sebet shrugged and continued to smile in anticipation, “I am sure we can reach an agreement.”

I decided not to comment. Instead, I assigned Sebet with the Summon Servant Ability. “Your official title will be Tyrant’s Spymaster,” I explained with deliberate severity, “However, I expect the knowledge of your title to be limited to Faction leaders, their most trusted subordinates, and your own subordinates. Understood?”

“I understand, Great One,” Sebet replied with jarring sobriety.

“Then I won’t keep you any longer. I expect that there is a great deal of work that needs to be done,” I waited long enough for Sebet to bow then dismissed her projection.

Returning to my previous position at the lake, I made myself comfortable. Once my mana was fully recuperated, I cycled through the perspectives of the three Champions before settling on Jayne.

At some point during my absence, Randle and Jayne had swapped positions.

The tall grass nearest to the gate was thoroughly trampled, cut short, and riddled with corpses.

The number of approaching monsters had ebbed considerably, so I cut the connection and decided to spend my time more productively instead.

Engaging in training held a certain appeal, but a lack of opponents my own size had led to a rather biased set of applicable skills.

Settling for weight and stamina training instead, I carried large leather bags full of iron ingots while jogging around the inner side of Sanctuary’s walls. I had made almost three complete laps when I realised the solution to my problem.

All I needed to do was recruit a Species of my own size.

Recalling how Nadine had mentioned Ogres appearing on the tenth floor, it gave me a general area of inquiry to work with. Still somewhat annoyed at Gregory, I opted for Summoning someone else instead.

Returning the iron ingots to the warehouse, I made my way back to The Grove so I could compile a list of questions before meeting with Teressa. Even if she couldn’t answer my questions, I was fairly confident she would be able to direct me to someone who could.

As her reward for assistance rendered in the dungeon, Teressa had asked for and been granted full citizenship in Sanctuary. So far as I was aware, she had bartered with Cin to have a house erected near the library. To the best of my knowledge, Yor, the Daemon librarian, had been the intermediary trading favours in either direction, but I wasn’t sure what those favours were.

The library itself might contain the answers I wanted anyway, so I elected to visit Teressa in person rather than simply Summoning a projection.

The library saw a great number of visitors daily. The majority of them were children and adults taking literacy and numeracy classes taught by Yor and her counterpart Besh throughout the day and evenings. However, Wraithe and the other Surgeons were determined to fill as many bookshelves as possible with medical knowledge. So it wasn’t out of place to see a small gaggle of Surgeons harassing the scribes and bookbinders of the library.

The entrance and internal structure of the library had been altered several times since the library was originally ‘delivered’ to Sanctuary. Ochram and Cin had made the alterations so easy to perform, that changes were often made on very short notice. If the original architects had lingered in Sanctuary, they would most likely weep tears of blood over how the building had been changed.

The library looked like a large concrete box with windows.

The bland exterior of the library made it all the more jarring upon passing through the entranceway. In stark contrast to the exterior, the internal aesthetics had been fanatically maintained and emulated through each successive iteration. Proving that Cin was more than capable of the task but hasn’t seen any need to treat the exterior with similar respect.

Drawn to movement on the ceiling, I watched as Yor’s spidery lower half descended from the second floor on a thin strand of silk while her thin, mostly Goblin, upper body tightly clutched at an armful of books. Upon reaching the bookshelves below, Yor disappeared into the stacks.

Approaching the records desk, I was reminded that Yor was not the only librarian. A small number of the library’s original staff had been kept on to teach Yor the ropes. The Human librarians were also most likely responsible for preserving the interior aesthetic of the library as well.

Technically, they weren’t librarians, they were conservators, historians and archivists. The concept of a modern Earth librarian was alien to them. It wasn’t all that surprising considering the libraries were primarily viewed as status symbols and weren’t open to the general public. With only the occasional visit from a sponsored historian or a nobleman, the libraries of this world probably saw fewer than a hundred visitors in any given year. In such a situation, a modern librarian’s more diverse skill set would have gone to waste.

“Could you please find Teressa and let her know I wish to speak with her?” I asked the librarians at large.

The most junior amongst them, a man in his late fifties, bowed his head and hurried away into the maze of stacks without saying a word.

“M-Majesty!” The remaining librarians all bowed low at the waist in a panic.

I was about to say something to calm them down, but my attention was drawn to three leatherbound books laid out on the counter. “What are these?” I asked curiously. I could sense that they were magic but couldn’t read the titles.

“M-Magic Tomes, M-Majesty!” One of the librarians explained hurriedly.

“What do they do?” I picked up one of the Tomes at random and tried injecting mana into it to increase its size.

Nothing happened.

“I will be with you in a moment, my Tyrant!” Yor’s small voice called out from the stacks.

I returned the Tome and waited.

After a few minutes, Yor came skittering out of the stacks at an alarming speed. Without breaking stride, she climbed up onto the counter. “How may I help you, my Tyrant?” Yor’s small chest heaved beneath her silken half-robes as she fought to catch her breath.

“What’s so special about these books?” I asked curiously.

“The Tomes?” Yor clarified, “Well, simply put, they contain one or more Spells that can be activated by providing sufficient mana. I was actually in the process of thoroughly searching the stacks for other Tomes when you arrived.”

“Do you know what Spells these Tomes contain?” I wasn’t averse to adding more utility or firepower to my arsenal.

Yor nodded and twitched her long thin ears, “This Tome contains a simple Light Spell, that one has a simple Mending Spell, and that one possesses Lesser Antidote.”

“Those Spells don’t sound particularly powerful,” I commented in wry amusement, “Although, the Lesser Antidote could be useful. Mending would save me a fortune on armour. Assuming it works on magic armour?”

“It does, my Tyrant,” Yor replied with a knowing smile.

Resting my finger on the Tome Yor had indicated held the Mending Spell, I injected mana into it until I felt a reaction. Not quite sure what to do, I formed a mental image of the mana moving like water from the Tome and washing over my pants.

Looking down, I watched in amusement as the frayed and tattered hems of my pants darned themselves to form new seams that would resist further fraying. Like syphoning water through a hose, my mana continued to flow into the Spell for another five minutes until it abruptly came to an end.

“Interesting,” I commented while shifting my finger to the next Tome.

Repeating the process of injecting mana into the Tome, I focused my attention on a mundane book sitting further along on the desk.

Feeling my mana moving through the motions, I continued concentrating on the book.

The book began to glow a faint greenish colour, but a panel of golden text abruptly cut off my field of view.

***** Sebet - Tim’s Demi-Plane ~ Tartarus *****

Gently gliding on the breeze, Sebet couldn’t help but smile as she watched a fortress of black marble erupt out of the ground and claim the open valley.

Her fortress.

Small clusters of prisoners dotted the landscape, watching in confusion and awe as Cin erected Sebet’s fortress.

With prisoners automatically being sent to the cells beneath the foundations of her fortress, Sebet could hardly contain her joy.

Of course, there had been some hurt feelings amongst the Humans who had been tending to those imprisoned in the cells. However, Sebet had exercised her authority to put an immediate end to any arguments over how things would proceed.

The Great One’s mandate had been quite clear and Sebet would prove she was the perfect candidate for the position.

Releasing the prisoners while Cin worked on the fortress, had been one such step. She was going to need subordinates, and recruiting from the existing pool of Human cattle following the Great One would prove time-consuming. Most of the best candidates would already have been claimed by their Faction leader. So Sebet would look to their enemies for talents she could mould.

Their current loyalties were of little concern, so Sebet focused on skills, natural ability, and moral flexibility. She had already earmarked four Humans for consideration. The most promising candidate considered himself to be an accomplished spy. Provided he was even half as competent as he believed himself to be, Sebet wouldn’t be disappointed.

Of course, there was one problem.

Sebet had not, in so many words, received permission to exercise the full extent of her Abilities on the prisoners. She hadn’t even asked, believing that her cause might be best served by waiting until her base of operations had the requisite facilities.

Upon reflection, Sebet decided that was a mistake.

The longer she went without competent subordinates, the longer it would take for her Faction to grow and fulfil its mandate.

Using the fading evening light to cover her movements, Sebet decided that it would be in her best interests to begin prepping her targets for initial negotiation.

After taking on a more unassuming appearance, Sebet changed into worn traveller's clothing and sheathed a dagger on her hip. Taking care to dirty herself by rolling around on the ground, Sebet decided that some blood wouldn’t go amiss either.

Hunting one of the fanged rabbits proved more difficult than anticipated. Some primal instinct in the Beasts caused them to flee long before Sebet could get close enough for the kill.

Changing tactics, Sebet began making her way toward the smallest group of prisoners.

“Why would they let us out?” A short dark-haired man whined, “There’s fucking monsters out here! And all we got for weapons is some sticks and rocks!”

“It’s all to do with that building, ain't it?” A taller red-haired man replied and pointed in the general direction of the fortress, “Maybe the cells are getting filled up with dirt?”

“Don’t be stupid!” A bald man grunted angrily, “They let us loose to get rid of us! No point in giving us weapons if-Gurk!”

Sebet twisted the dagger as she pulled it free of the bald man’s kidney.

“Wh-What the fuck?!” The shorter man cried in a panic, backpedalling away as Sebet knocked the bald man to the ground.

“The Devil from the tower said she would only let five people back in!” Sebet growled, “And I don’t plan on being Beast food!”

The red-haired man tightened his grip on his improvised club, glanced at the shorter man for a moment, and then bolted.

The shorter man turned and ran too, leaving Sebet and her original victim alone.

“P-Please,” the prone man begged, spittle flying from his mouth as he hissed in pain, “D-Don’t kill me!”

“I don’t intend to,” Sebet replied honestly, “I just needed some help getting things started, that's all.”

The dying man looked up at her in confusion, “Wh-what?” He wheezed.

“I need to set the right mood,” Sebet explained casually, “See how readily the candidates succumb to panic and how they thrive in a crisis.”

“I-I d-don’t n-understand...” The dying man’s words began to slur as he was overcome by shock.

“That’s all right,” Sebet squatted down beside him and gently patted his shoulder reassuringly, “You already played your part.”

“I-I? D-Did?” The dying man wheezed in confusion.

Sebet was going to reply, but the man expired before she could say anything further.

Shifting her appearance, Sebet stood up again and made sure to wipe some blood on her borrowed clothing before stalking off into the evening gloom.

Using her Soul Sight, Sebet had no trouble selecting her next targets.

However, before she had even made it halfway, one of the Humans she had marked as a potential candidate for recruitment broke away from his group and began heading straight for her. Curious but otherwise unconcerned, Sebet started to wander instead of continuing toward her targets.

“It’s not safe to go it alone,” a cold man’s voice stated grimly from behind her.

Sebet made a show of being surprised, “Who-”

“Please...Don’t insult my intelligence,” the man snickered, “I know you're working for them.”

“Oh?” Sebet made no attempts at defending herself, especially since he did not seem to realise the full truth of the matter, “What gave me away?”

The man, Merrick, was dressed in different shades of dark greys and blues that would make it difficult for Human eyes to make him out in the darkness. Sebet had no such limitations and could see almost as well in complete darkness as she could in daylight. As such, she could easily make out the thin vertical scar marring his lips and his short beard on the right side of his face,

“The knife,” Merrick grunted, “No one else has a real weapon.”

This was true, and a deliberate measure to further test the candidates' observation skills.

[And you also killed someone with it a short while ago.] Derek commented in the safety of his own mind.

That gained Sebet’s attention, “The Mistress is only letting five of you leave the valley alive,” she told him with a smile, deciding to alter the script to account for being caught out.

“What? Why?” Merrick demanded coldly, “Is this some sort of sick game?”

Sebet had to suppress her amusement as Merrick's surface thoughts undermined his moral outrage. “It’s more of a job interview,” She replied and threw the dagger into the ground at Merrick’s feet.

“Then why are you helping me?” Merrick scowled and cautiously crouched down to retrieve the dagger without letting her out of his sight.

“The Mistress is looking for some good talent, and I think you might be a good fit,” Sebet replied with a smirk, “Assuming you have no objections to helping the selection process along?”

Merrick hesitated for a moment and briefly considered making a play at opening her carotid artery. “What do I need to do?” He asked warily.

“Oh, nothing too difficult,” Sebet replied, conjuring a new dagger into her right hand, “You just need to thin the herd.”

Merrick’s icy blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Until there are just five of us?” He asked warily.

“Well, if you really want to impress, you will keep your eye out for talent and ensure they make it too,” Sebet sheathed the new dagger and deliberately turned her back on Merrick, “The Mistress is sure to reward the most accomplished of the candidates, and as impressive as survival skills may be, the Mistress places a much higher value on initiative and obedience.”

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