Originally uploaded Oct 10, 2023

Lucas Wykes POV

Lance Olfred Warend of the dwarvenKingdom of Darv. He was the oldest among the current set of Lances. Yet his raw strength was far eclipsed by that of Lance Varay. While public knowledge of the Lances is still very fresh, the broad pecking order between them is vaguely understood from the way they interacted with each other and who ordered around who.

But that didn't mean I was approaching this with my guard down. One of the key things that the living demon Grey drilled into me was to never underestimate my opponents. Which in hindsight seemed like a ridiculous thing for him to say. While I never observed his full strength his aura and the air in which he conducted himself suggested he far surpassed any mortal Lance.

What kind of things did he have to fear? Was he planning on toppling the heavens themselves?

No, while my own strength had greatly grown this was still a Lance we were talking about. And if anything he had more experience under his belt than me. He was a soldier personally selected by the dwarven king and spent multiple times my lifetime on the field.

My core was full to the brim with mana, glowing a bright luminous silver it pulsed with raw power. In amounts that would rival any white core mage. My blood red robes fluttered in the misty winds as runes running up and down my staff glowed a bright gold and red. The large crystal atop its long shaft glowed a brilliant orange as I channeled my mana to it.

The soldiers all around us simply backed as far away as they could and didn't move. Believing that any sudden movements would draw either of our attention.

The large fire beast summon tightened its grip on the the now struggling Lance. But I knew it was only for a moment. And right on cue he burst forward. Sending wisps of dying flames and shards of sharp rock out in a small explosion.

Before the debris could hit me protective runes and wards on my robes glowed a subtle purple as they instantly decelerated before harmlessly falling to the ground before they reached me.

"Who are you!" The Lance questioned I could feel him channeling his own mana to his hands. They grew in size, as large sets gauntlets of shiny dark metal covered them, the cracks on their surface glowed with dark orange lava and I could feel their heat from even this distance.

Olfred's earth type affinity wasn't the best match up for my fire. But I will have to make due. I was more than used to being on the backfoot by now. And compared to the auras Grey and his buddy Neoth produced this felt like nothing.

The Lance jumped forward, kicking off the ground and cracking the earth as he rushed towards me. More mana and stone gathered around him, forming a heavy armor of metal as he pummeled down like a comet.

'Time for the real test I suppose.' I thought in my mind as I slightly shifted my staff. Runes went off in different colors and order as a pillar of fire ignited. Fire rose up from the ground and punched up through the clouds. Casting a bright firey beacon.

The traitor Lance quickly adjusted his course before he was burned alive. But that was to be expected.

With one powerful flap of its wings Grey's pet dragon leapt into the air. Sending gales of wind that felt like the winds of a storm. It massive dark body approached like an encroaching shadow. And they clashed midair. The dragon's sword like claws ripped into the Lance's armor as the he made feeble attempts to punched the dragon. An act that only seemed to annoy it more than anything else.

It didn't take long for the claws of the beast to make its mark, it dug deep. As a rain of crimson filled the air. The dragon disengaged from the dwarf as he fell down back to the hard earth.

He landed hard on the ground, the weight of his remaining armor no doubt being a contributor. He was wounded, quiet heavily. I could see several deep cuts around his chest and stomach area. With one large hole that cut right through his bone and one of his lungs. He quickly regained his footing, he was wheezing but I have seen lesser mages survive from worse.

I am sure if given enough time he would heal. The wonders of being a white core mage. But I wasn't going to give him the time.

I lifted my staff high. And a spell that I was all to familiar with filled the air. Tiny orbs of bright orange filled the air around us. Encompassing us in a small dome. Olfred was already recovering, I could sense his mana being drawn to his wounds and stone began to cover his wound and snap his broken bones back into place.

"Don't worry. We didn't think that you would die from just that." I proudly mocked as I stabbed the end of my staff in the soil. And instantly the spell activated.

The orbs of orange unleashed plumes of fire. Large pillars of stone erupted out from the ground as the Lance tried to defend himself. With a sharp flick of my wrist yellow coils of lightning that moved like violent snakes wrapped around the pillars and the dwarf. Pushing more mana into my spell I made sure to stabilize the spell.

Despite being of elven heritage I was always inclined towards fire mana arts. Yet I was never able to fully unlock its deviant form. Something my elder brother did effortlessly when he was my age. I may harbor a deep hatred for Grey and how he has made a puppet out of me but his methods worked. Not only did my strengthened increase at a monstrous rate I was now able to tap into what I previously never could.

The electricity from my lightning had magnetized the metal pillars as well as the Lance's armor. And with enough of the current they attracted each other. The Lance's body suddenly jerked forwards as his body rushed towards and attached itself onto the pillar.

"Yeah, science bitch!" I exclaimed as I conjured chains of fire. They wrapped around the Lance's arms and legs as they began to slowly burn into him.

I slowly began to approach my prey. With Grey's dragon close behind me. For the first time in a long while I felt good, I felt truly powerful. I may have been a bit too wary with dealing with this Lance over here. And doing this had placed everything into a scale I could understand.

Holding myself in comparison to Grey seemed pointless. Even though I was growing day by day he always seemed like a mystery. Something I couldn't even dream of understanding, let alone overcoming. With each passing day it felt as though I had made a deal with the devil.

The dragon strode ahead of me as it lowered its large head to be face to face with the traitor. It large jaws opened and I could see it sharp teeth that looked more like the blades of swords than teeth. For a moment I wondered if it was going to eat him but I could sense the immense amount of mana the dragon was extracting from the Lance.

It was in such high quantity that I could see tiny particles of white and orange mana traveling from the dwarf's body and into the dragon's maw. While mana beasts did posses a more acute natural mana manipulation I have never seem mana being actively siphoned off of a living being. Mana transferring was a tricky ordeal that was only theorized to be possible but was never full proven.

As the dragon drained Olfred's mana his armor broke away, wasting away into nothing as his large bulky features seemed to thin and wane. Until he was reduced to a pitiful state, looking more like a skinny boy than anything else. So much so that it made me question if mana was the only thing Grey's pet over here took.

But I wasn't going to complain. Grey had made it very clear he had no uses for a solider who would sell out their own continent. And that means I had free rein here, which made my job much easier.

The dragon leaned its large head back as it withdrew to the side. And I slowly began my approach towards the now weak Lance with my arms wide open in a mock welcoming gesture.

"The mighty Lance Olfred of Darv!" I projected my voice outwards. I was going to enjoy this. It had been way too long since I was the one calling the shots.

I reached out one of my hands as I touched the Lance's own hollow cheek. He looked disgraceful. He hung his head low, perhaps he didn't even have the strength to do that. He looked skinny, as if he hadn't eaten properly in weeks. Pushing his chin up I made him stare into my eyes.

Ah yes, the eyes. The window to one's soul. And his eyes told me he was furious. They burned with a fire that wouldn't be doused by any water. Pure rage and hatred I no doubt had felt myself.

But I couldn't help but pity him, just a little. Here he was, a Lance. The best of his people reduced to an insect.

"A Lance, one who was chosen by the council to protect its people and look at you. A rat who sold out their own continent for the promise of power." I said in a lower voice but loudly enough that the people around us could still hear. I wanted him to feel shame, to feel despair. I wanted him to die knowing how much of a mockery he was.

"Who are you." He hissed, his voice was dripping with venom. But this snake no longer had any bite. While being a white core Lance meant he recovered mana much faster I doubt that was only thing the dragon did. It seemed as if it had eaten away at the very life force he once possessed.

"I think you would know." I quietly hissed into his ears as I slightly drew back my large hood. Realization spread across his face as his eyes widened in disbelief.

"Luc-" Before he could finish uttering my name I quickly covered his mouth with a hand.

"Uh uh. Spoilers." I whispered as I made a shushing gesture with my other hand.

He tried to scream, well, the best effort at a scream he could muster. But it was all just muffled by my hand.

"I think I've wasted enough time here. It's a shame, I expected more from you." I said with a slight tinge of sadness and regret in my voice.

"But it was a bit fun." I said as I could feel a wicked smile grow on my face. With a snap of my fingers the insides of the traitor ignited into bright blue flames. He screamed in silence as my fire ate away at his internals. But even that didn't last long, the flames quickly grew as I removed my hand from his mouth. He burned, his face locked into a silent scream of pain as he stared into the heavens.

Until nothing but ash remained.

Demeptah POV

Vago's flagship silently cruised along the aetheric void. Traveling along already calculated and well documented pathways within realms was the safest and quickest mode of transportation we had in our possession. The vast ocean of infinite aether went by many names, the void, the aetheric ocean, the dirac sea.

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The pathways we carved out and formed from them were heavily used even before our full retreat into the aetheric sea with roads to the throneworld being heavily monitored and defended. Without the right clearance or identification a ship would never clear the throneworld's atmosphere before it was wiped from the face of all realities. From what I have gathered from the little records that Vago kept onboard his ship our race seems to have devolved.

We were once a mighty and benevolent race, creating order from the chaos of this cruel universe. We were near masters of the material world and here we were. Beaten and lacking numbers. Hiding in the great void while being more concerned about each other than the our mortal enemy.

I truly lamented my absence in these thousands of years. With no central leading figure when the Emperor went into exile it left a massive power vacuum. While the acting council he put into place kept the realms in line for the first couple centuries it was perhaps the natural entropy of all things to become... chaotic.

Highlord Oliurk sat a few distance away. Still in his heavy armor that was slowly mending itself from the damage it had suffered. He leaned on his prized glaive for support as he had the stern and serious look he always had.

Despite all the time that had passed he didn't seem to have changed at all. Perhaps a few more wrinkles and a look of wariness in his eyes, but he was the same Highlord I proudly served all those years ago.

Several lighting artifacts hung on the walls and from the ceiling, casting the entire main bridge of the ship in a cold harsh light. With different runes and seals lining the inner walls. At the front we could see the ship traveling, well less moving itself, instead the space was moving around us. Aether carried the ship we were on through the infinite ocean of aether in between worlds.

It was akin to using a warp portal, but at a far larger scale. And having been in stasis for so long it was doing a number on my insides. I flexed my hands again. The blackstone hugged my skin like a second layer of skin. I still felt sluggish compared to my prime and I hoped it was only the effects of long slumber and that it would only be temporary.

Vago was at the front, small aetheric runes danced around him as the guided the ship through the void. The old man hasn't changed much as well. I wondered if they had somehow unlocked the key to immortality or something. Or perhaps their mastery of mana and aether allowed them to renew their bodies. Whatever the case I began to believe that the unchanging leadership was also a big issue or race currently faced.

We were all reduced to be squabbling delegates, desperate to climb over each other to secure more power. Whether that be political or physical. It filled me with unbridled rage. The asuras now rule the physical world while we are sitting around doing nothing about it. Was this to be our fate? To slowly decay and die off? No, I will not let such a thing happen on my watch. I will restore our former glory and take back what is rightfully ours.

"We have arrived." Vago projected his voice into our mind as we entered the throneworld. The entire ship shook and violently jerked as we transition back into tangible space. Standing up from my seat I approached the front of the bridge.

Having been placed into stasis far before our full retreat into the aetheric world I have never laid my eyes on the throneworld. And it was an immense sight.

Roaring peaks of large mountains that pierced the clouds were covered in thick snow. And carved into the mountain face was the imperial palace. An extravagant work of architecture that was as massive as it was beautiful. Large domes of gold and spirals of blackstone reached up into the air as the entire palace easily covered the entire mountain.

Just below the mountains were a sprawling city. Countless building formed a circular perimeter around the palace as large defensive walls lined the entire fortress city. To call it merely a city or a palace was a understatement. It was purposefully built to be a magnificent battle fortress. Representing the pinnacle of our empire

Vago's ship hastily made its way down, silently running on aether and mana fueled engines that made it effortlessly glide in the air.

And as we drew closer the size of the palace became more apparent. Its size was so vast that I had to turn my head side to side to fully see each end. Vago carefully landed his ship just below the main front entrance.

Exiting the ship I could see hundreds of row of stairs that lead up the the imperial palace. And even from here I could feel it. The mighty aura that emanated from it, no not from the building itself. The aura was coming from something within it. I could feel my lungs being constricted as it drew the air from my breath. My entire body felt heavy as if I was moving around in thick sludge. I could feel my mind numbing as which each ascending step as we all made our way up the stairs.

Along our trek up the stairway that seem to go on forever I spotted many hooded figures. The sound of gears and servos whirling from underneath there crimson robes. They didn't pay us any mind, they all seemed far too occupied with dealing with the heavy machinery that seemed was all over the palace. The subtle buzz of electricity and machinery gave off the feeling as though the entire place was alive and breathing.

Oliurk stumbled for a second. It didn't take a genius to figure out that we was still recovering from his last bout. The state his fortress was in was enough evidence I needed to come to such a conclusion. Using his glaive as a walking stick he stabilized himself as he continued, waving away Vago's helping hand.

It felt like eons but we soon made our way to the main entrance. A large archway made of expertly carved stone that hung thirty feet in the air. An entrance large enough that a small ship could have fit through. A waiting party of crimson robes figures welcomed us.

They all bowed respectfully to us, all except one. He was far larger than the others. In fact he towered over all of us. He must have been at least 7 feet tall. He made his way towards us, each step was filled with the sound of machinery. As he drew closer I could make out his face under his large hood.

His pale, sick looking skin only covered half of his face. The rest was a metal plate with a glowing red eye replacing his organic one. From under his robes emerged several thin metal arms, they grasped at Vago's figure as he made a sort of welcoming gesture to the old chronomancer.

He seemed a bit familiar to me but I couldn't be sure. His attention then turned to me. And he gasped.

"Ah, the famous grand general yet lives!" He exclaimed, his voice heavily distorted like some of white noise. Full of static and interference.

He made his way towards me, moving his large body towards me as he took my hand in four of his.

"You should introduce yourself, you have changed since the last time he seen you." Vago reminded the robes abomination of man and machine.

"Ah yes." He said as he released my hand from his grips. He took a step back as he made a slight bowing gesture, or at least that is what I guess his attempt at movement was.

"Highlord Varactor, at your service."

"Varactor?" I question, completely bewildered. He was a scholar the last I remembered. A bit strange but a genius nonetheless. He was the once responsible for our great technological lead we possessed at the height of our short but violent conflict with the dragons.

And no doubt the main progenitor of the technological marvels I didn't recognize all around us. But now here he was. A husk of man, worn by a machine. I couldn't fully see his body, and I didn't want to. But I could tell he had replaced many of his body parts with artificial ones. But another question lingered on my mind.

"What are you doing on the throneworld?" I questioned. As far as I know Varactor hated being involved with any sort of politics. He was a scientist not a politician, he had once said when I asked him about his position as Highlord. That was indeed his title but he acted more as a lead architect or lead designer of his realm.

A realm that was heavily focused on industrialization and the manufacturing behind our war effort. Despite the vast disadvantageous starting point of our peaceful race he was able to match and surpass any tech the asuras had. And he would rarely even leave his personal chambers within his own realm. Only sending servants to deliver orders.

"The same reason as you. For the arrival of the Emperor." He said as he said the title of our leader with reverence.

"I have been making preparations to better sustain his physical body, lord general." He added.

"Preparations?" I questioned and that was when Vago stepped forward.

"His imperial majesty has spent the past several millennia in exile. And as you know time and space is... unpredictable the further you move out from a world." Vago explained.

"From the reports we have ascertained from the custodians he took with him his body is in a very weak state." Highlord Oliurk spoke from behind me. It seems only I was the one out of the loop. The return of the Emperor. It will no doubt cause a massive stir within our already fracturing race. It most likely already had an effect.

I clenched my fists as I thought back to my time by his side. Speaking to him always seemed... strange.Meeting with our war leader was always disorienting experiences. Subject to the lassitudes of memory even to being as powerful as I and other Highlords. I can't even properly remember his face. All I could recall was his flowing long hair and powerful eyes that seemed to house a well of souls.

He had told me his vision for the future. A future we would carve out ourselves. With no false gods to dictate us. But what does he do? The moment we needed him the most he exiles himself and leaves our entire race to rot. To thrash around blindly like a snake with no head.

"Shall we?" Varactor made an inviting gesture and lead us into the imperial palace. The insides were just as extravagant as the outside. The ceiling stretched all the way into the sky, this was no aetheric trickery. It was all constructed meticulously by hand. Through the blood and tears of laborers that toiled for thousands of years.

Chandeliers made of crystal shone like stars with art pieces the size of homes decorating the hallways. Many of them depicting key moments in our history. The first founding of our capital city, our discovery of the new continent. To the battles against the asuras that wounded the world.

Walking down these halls was walking down history itself. Priceless relics and artifacts of ages gone by were displayed with a row of heads of dragons just above them. Any of their faces contorted into those of fear as disbelief.

The entire chamber was larger than Oliurk's entire fortress. And the palace only seemed to go deeper into the heart of the very mountain it was constructed on, I couldn't begin the imagine the full extent of this fortress. It might as well be a full on country by itself from the size it held.

As we continued down a deeper into the main palace chamber the room were filled with the same red cloaked individuals as they worked away at machinery. Wires and tubes littered the floors and walls as we drew closer and closer to what I could only presume was the throneroom.

And soon we were here. A long dark hallway gave way into a massive door. With two custodians standing guard, if I hadn't known better I would have presumed they were just statues, that was how still they stood guard. There gold trimmed blackstone armor matched the door, blending them to the gates they guarded almost perfectly.

The door they guarded was made of pure blackstone, its dark black surface reflected any sort of light and made it appear like the night sky. On the massive gates was a carving, depicting the Emperor, wearing his armor and sword. Standing tall and proud as his stood above the corpse of a deceased dragon, his sword buried deep into its throat.

Although it was only a carving on the gates they still filled me with a sense of awe, my body urged me to bow at the sheer grandeur of it all but there was something else. Beyond the gates I felt it. The aura that threatened to kill me, a power that was beyond this world. I have met and killed asuras before, and this didn't even compare to them. This felt like I was in the presence of a true god.

As we all approached the gate the custodians moved. With a small nod they both acknowledged the old chronomancer, who looked so weak in comparison.

Then Vago handed a small sealing tesseract to Varactor. It smooth polished surface giving off a soothing blue glow.

"With this it is ready." Varactor whispered in anticipation.

I don't know what came over me, but I heard it. A calling, the gates were beckoning me to come closer. My feet moved on their own as I walked up to the gates. The custodians moved instantly, they almost seemed to have teleported. Their spears were drawn as they aimed it at my head.

"No, let him through." The old master chronomancer croaked. It took a few seconds but the elite guards listened and withdrew their weapons. But I had barely noticed.

My hands touched the cold metal surface. Tracing the intricate curves and marks no doubt made by the finest hands of our race. I could feel a subtle pull as the aether reacted to my touch.

I could see the purple particles gather around my hand as it began to surround my entire body. For some reason I didn't feel alarmed, instead I felt a sense of longing. Like I belonged here. Before I realized I was drawn into the gates. The aether wrapping around me and pulling me in.

My vision changed, I was standing on a hard stone. My body felt entirely weightless, as if I was floating in water. My heart felt empty, as if my soul was gone. Slowly raising my head I was blinded. A light that glowed so bright that it burned my skin. I raised my hands to shield them but they didn't help.

Then the light dimmed and I could see what it was. Or in this case who it was.

I saw a man. The skinny remains of a man I once knew and followed. He appeared like a skeleton with parchment thin skin stretched over his body. His hollow eyes were black holes. Darker than any darkness I have seen before. His mouth was opening in a silent scream as his head was slightly titled downward, staring directly at me.

He sat upon a throne, but to call it a throne was a stretch of the definition. He was surrounded in machinery, wires and tubes ran off of him and covered him. Stretching on for miles in all sides. Arcane technology created to keep his soul anchored to his decaying body. He was the once glorious leader. The man who led our race in war we had little hope winning. The Emperor.

He should have been dead. His body was rotten, it was merely a corpse yet his soul still burned bright. Like a star that refused to be snuffed out the cold darkness of space. I could feel his power all around me. It was like toxic fumes, it made me lightheaded and nausea. I doubt even Kezess Indrath held this much power. I could feel my skin burning as I stood in his presence, the aether was screaming in pain as he exerted his will over them.

I sank to my knees. Tears ran down my face, I couldn't tell if it was because of the blinding light he emitted or something else. This was what only legends and myths talked about. Something the asuras of Ephetous couldn't hold a candle to. This was a true god.

I hung my head low as I uttered my first words to our leader in thousands of years.

"I have returned, father."