The shift was sudden. All over the world, Spirits and Mages alike felt something change. An increase in the available mana. One that was utterly negligible when compared to the amount that was already present in the world. Like a stone tossed into a lake, only for the ripples to swiftly disappear. No changes to be made or seen.
For the most part, no one realized the truth of what happened. They felt a chill run down their spine. Perhaps some felt like they had stepped out of the shade on a hot summer day, only for a cloud to immediately cast them in shadow once more. Others may have heard a slight ringing in their ear, indistinguishable from tinnitus. The only thing these events had in common among all who felt them, was that they occurred in every being that utilized mana, all over the world, all at once.
Even the Cruor, whose Ichor was born from the corruption of the mana that existed in nature. With the eldest of them, the Broodlords, actually having an idea of what it was.
Once more the nine Broodlords had assembled. Roughly a day after the initial change was felt. This time, each one was stone faced and expressionless. Sat atop their twisted thrones, they faced each other as equals. Even the Winged Lord was seated properly. Though his haggard appearance denoted the hard word he had been doing this past year. As well as the sheer toll it extracted from him.
“Are we completely certain about this?” The voice of the Fanged Lord rattled the air as his anger flooded through him. “Because this means that something very bad is going to happen. For all of us.”
The Rot Lord swallowed nervously. No longer was she in her true form, towing tens of meters high, as she was when she strode toward Wolken and the other Mythic he had been fighting. Instead, she was in her neutral form, standing just at the average height for a woman.
Clad in a dress made from mold and fungi that was both elegant and eerie at the same time. She fidgeted in her thrones like a child who knew they were about to be reprimanded.
“I cannot say I confirmed it with my own eyes, but it was obvious that the two Exalts were fighting over something. But, given that I clearly sensed the ripple caused by Void mana, I can guarantee that I at least sensed the presence of a Legendary Void user.” Her words were carefully structured to ensure that there was no misunderstanding. Yet also subdued, as she knew that the news that she provided wasn’t good.
The moment the Rotting Matriarch finished speaking, each of the assembled Broodlords flinched as their master’s anger was made known. A searing pain filled them as their Ichor began to burn. It was only for a brief second, but it was enough to make them gasp for breath when it was over.
A dim glow filled them, as their bodies were filled with power. The energies of the Broods, which had flooded this area entirely, filled them, and their pains were soothed momentarily.
“It appears our masters are forgiving of this transgression. Though it still means that there is a problem.” The Wyrm Lord and Lady of Swarms nodded in agreement. Even the Chaos Lord, formless as they were, seemed to droop before firming up and shaking.
The words they meant to convey were silent to all but their fellow Broodlords. Who flinched back from the intensity. Though most of them were confused.
“Pardon me, seniors, but why must we accelerate our plans?” The four oldest Lords turned to glare at the Bone Lord, who recoiled back in fear. “I am not disputing, or even arguing against it. But I can’t help but think that knowing why we need to might give us a greater sense of urgency. Even if you demand that we not spread the word to our armies.”
Silent nod of agreement came from all the younger Broodlords. Even the Winged Lord who was in no condition to speak up. There was silence for a while, as the Fanged, Wyrm, and Swarm lords turned to the Chaos Lord for approval.
Their oozing form shifted between general shapes and deadly weapons, before embodying the form of countless beasts in quick succession. Finally, after several seconds of internal debate, they answered.
It was a wordless response, wherein the Chaos Lord sent them all a series of images and feelings. Images of the Ancient Legacy, and the sensation of the shift in mana that was felt after the originals had all been kicked out.
The same shift that they had felt not long ago.
“So... you’re saying that Legacy has been found once more...” The Bone Lord’s body shook with fear and anger. The thought of a Legacy left behind by all the Ancients combined. Not the individual ones left separately for specific regions or tribes, made his hatred for the Ancients grow stronger. “Do we know if the Herald is now an Exalt?”
The Chaos Lord’s silence was all that needed to be heard. It would be impossible to know before Ezekiel appeared in the world once more. Given the secrecy of the Ancient Legacy, it would be impossible for them to track down the answers themselves. Though, the fact that their masters weren’t yet aware, even after the shift had occurred, was worrisome on its own.
“Why now? Of all times, why now, when we are just about to begin our war for freedom once again!?” This time it was the Scarlet Lady, Broodlord of the Blood Cruor that spoke. “What happened to taking out that damned brat before he could become a threat? What Brood was in charge of killing him?”
The newer Broodlords looked around in confusion, not certain as to the specifics of who was sent to kill him. But three of the eldest turned to face the Chaos Lord. Knowing looks on their faces.
The formless ooze once more shifted countless times, before settling down. One by one the other three originals sighed and reclined into their seats as their juniors looked on.
“Actions were taken. His death was guaranteed, if not for the interference of a newborn Mythical Spirit,” the Fanged Lord spat out the words with an angry snarl. “We will need to begin our opening assault as soon as possible. Chistopher!”
The Deep Broodlord turned at attention. Raspy wet sounds emanated from his gills as he breathed. A pool of water at his feet seemed to grant him some comfort as he shifted in his throne.
“Are you ready to begin a proper push into the Archipelago?” the toothy grin the Fanged Lord displayed was enough to make most people cry out in fear. Especially since it was matched in the multiple mouths that covered his body.
“We are. Though, I must reiterate that an attack on Morncrest would not be feasible at this time. Not without support from at least one other Brood.” The Deep Lord grimaced at the thought of taking on the Forest Spirit that called that island home. “It is simply too bad of a match for me to fight it on my own. Especially with the various Legendary Spirits that also call that place home. Perhaps, after consuming the mana within at least two, preferably three, inhabited islands, my Broods’ number will have been bolstered enough to at least reestablish a base.”
The reminder of the loss of their Morncrest forces was met with a look of distaste on all the Broodlords’ faces. Even the Winged Lord, who wasn’t even to blame for that mess. The events occurring in the Archipelago all those years ago were before he had finished his conversion, after all.
“That is fine. Begin with the fringe islands. Take down as many of the outliers as possible. We shall leave Morncrest island for now, though we can give them a present in the meantime. Better to break up their trade routes and separate them for when our carriers depart and bring our armies to their shores. Serin.”
This time, it was the Rotting Matriarch that responded to the Fanged Lord’s call.
“Are the gifts you promised ready for deployment?”
The Broodlord of the Rot smiled with wicked joy, clapping her hands together like a child about to open a present. All previous sense of childhood fear was replaced by childhood glee.
“Indeed, senior. My presents are prepared, and merely need to be planted and fed a little bit of mana to begin spreading properly.”
A shiver went through the other non-original Broodlords. The thought of the Rot’s spread was terrifying, even for them, who were her allies. Simply because it was uncontrollable once it had begun. Though it was clear that Serin didn’t truly care.
“Good. A single carrier will be sent to Morncrest, filled with your gift, so as to make landfall on the island, opposite the Forest Spirit’s main body. That will hopefully soften it up for later.” Serin giggled at the thought. “Additionally, besides the presents for the Archipelago, you have free reign to attack Lolend.”
Eyes widened at the mention of the city under Wolken’s control. Attacking the home of an Exalt wasn’t usually done. The chances of losing one of their numbers were often too high for the risk to be worth it. Especially since they knew that another Exalt was likely in the nearby regions.
Even Serin, who was gleeful moments before, looked apprehensive at the thought.
“Are you certain that is a good idea?” she spoke quietly. “I am all for fighting that old windbag. But if that damned flower girl interferes, I won’t stand a chance.”
The Fanged Lord just smiled.
“Not to worry. I will personally be taking part when you begin.” eyes widened all around, as it had been centuries since any of the remaining originals had stopped into battle. Usually they just took defensive actions, to ensure that the humans didn’t encroach too far into the Desolate Lands.
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For the second oldest of the originals to take part in this attack, it was almost a guarantee that the city would fall. Such a thing was something that none of the Exalts would expect to occur. Especially if they were in conflict like it was currently assumed.
A smile spread across the Rotting Matriarch’s face at the thought.
“In that case, I will thank you in advance for the gift of an expanded territory.”
The Fanged Lord smirked in amusement. Then the Wyrm Lord spoke.
“What of the other borders?”
His peers all turned to face him.
“I know we were always going to focus on the Archipelago, and at least one of the bordering regions ruled by the humans, but what of the others? What should we do while the rest of the world is distracted?” The Wyrm Lord’s words drew thoughtful looks from the others. “Personally, along with your attack on Lolend, I would like to begin hunting for that damned Void Hunter.”
The reminder of the reason they were moving up their attack caused old concerns to rise within the Broodlords once again. Unfortunately, from the memories granted by the Chaos Lord, it was obvious to all of them that it would be impossible to find out where the entrance to the Legacy was.
A sudden shift from the Chaos Lord drew their attention.
“... That is a good point. Why should we track him down, when we can have him come to us.” The Broodlords all smiled at once in response to the Wyrm Lord’s words. “But this will take some careful planning, and subterfuge... Kereena, can you get agents into the westernmost shores without being caught?”
The Scarlet Lady nodded her head in thought.
“It will be difficult, but it should be possible. Though, it won’t be pleasant for those involved. I assume you want to go there since it is known that the Herald’s father is on those shores?”
The Chaos Lord’s body rippled in confirmation. Kereena bowed her head.
“I cannot go myself, but my daughters can make their way over. I assume that our masters have a plan in place?”
Once more the Chaos Lord’s body rippled. The Scarlet Lady leaned back on her throne. Similarly, the Wyrm Lord was also pleased with this development.
“Then the issue with the Herald of the Void will be dealt with. Now, let us continue with planning the attacks that will take place after the situations in the Archipelago and Lolend are underway.”
Taking turns to go over their respective Broods’ development, plans were put into place for who and what would be struck first.
All while one of their number couldn’t help but shift his ruffled feathers. Dearly wishing that he could be there when the Herald was finally struck down.
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To the northeast of the Desolate Lands, well beyond the territory in which the Broodlords were gathered, a meeting was taking place within the Cathedral of Lolend. A meeting that Wolken deeply desired to be well away from. One involving multiple Grand Scholars, including the ones from the Cathedral built around the only Temple of the Void currently controlled by human hands.
“So, you mean to tell me that the sudden shift in all the mana in the world is likely due to something happening in that Ancient Legacy you sent a team of Hunters to.” The dull and emotionless voice of the old woman currently looking down on Wolken from a raised platform was distinctly different from her relatively kind and heartwarming voice. So, Wolken knew that he was in for a world of trouble.
“More or less, Lady Wilma. Though, I don’t think it’s that big a deal right now. It just means that they succeeded in whatever trials that the guardian had in store for them.” Wolken tried to play off his nervousness with disinterest. But given who he was speaking with, he knew that it wasn’t working.
“Or, if our records are to be believed, it is just as likely that they are all dead, and the entrance to the Legacy has been destroyed!” This time there was anger in Wilma’s voice, and the Grand Scholars that were assembled in the room shuffled uneasily.
For his part, Wolken looked shocked at the possibility of the entrance disappearing. This was new information that he hadn’t been aware of.
“Wait! You knew about the entrance to the Ancient Legacy?”
The woman standing in the middle of the room pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.
“Not the specific whereabouts. But there are records of the Ancient’s Legacy in records passed down from the Temple of the Void. From before the Age of Despair.” She turned, moving toward a chair that had been set out for her that stood between the other seated Grand Scholars. “In every instance that an entrance was found, the guardian explained the conditions for entry. Including the necessity for a Void Mage to be present. Though, each entrance had a different number of requirements. Yet, after each entrance was used, it would be sealed, and then after some time had passed, it would disappear. With the Mages that entered still inside. This has happened six times to our knowledge. Though the last was done by a hidden group that is unknown to us. Each time was accompanied by a sudden shift in mana felt all over the world.”
Usually, Wolken wasn’t interested in history, beyond the lessons needed to fight the Cruor, but this involved his most trusted Hunters. For all he knew, he had sent them to their deaths.
“None returned... Absolutely none!?” On his shoulders, Wolken’s Spirit hissed calming words into his mind, but the Exalt was growing into a frenzy. “How dare that bastard monkey lie to me! I was promised that the Legends that entered would undergo fair trials, and that so long as the necessary Hunters were gathered in the future, that entry was guaranteed!”
“But not on a regular basis.” Wilma’s voice cut through the wind and pressure that Wolken was now exuding. “Technically speaking, it kept its word. From the perspective and time of your original meeting, all the components for entry were met and entry was granted.”
With her words, the wind was taken from Wolken’s sails, and only frustration at himself remained. Though, he did feel a bit of resentment toward the Spirit that had lied with the truth.
“What were the coordinates of the entrance? They are useless now, but we can at least check to see if there are survivors this time around.”
Wolken provided a copy of the map that he had given Ezekiel. It would take him roughly a full day traveling at his top speed to get there. For Legendaries, it would take a week or more, even if they had Spirits that could help them move faster than most.
“The one good thing that has come from this, is the fact that the Cult of Light will gain nothing from this information.” Nods of agreement spread through the room. Even Wolken felt that there was at least something good that came from this. “Now, can we get a report on how the Void Hunters are doing?”
A frown formed on Wolken’s face. One that was matched by a few of the other Grand Scholars.
“Currently, their development is going well. Given that it has been over a month since Ezekiel left on his expedition in the north, they have made a staggering amount of progress in developing their spells. Each one having at least a basic level of capability in the different spells that Ezekiel provided them for use.” This came as a surprise, as most of the assembled Grand Scholars had thought that Wolken’s frown was from disappointing results. Not the stellar ones he was currently speaking of.
“The only problem they are facing is that their Spirits, due to their incredibly young souls, aren’t quite up to par with other Spirits that form bonds with a Mage. Hence, their growth is not quite as explosive as most new Hunters. What’s worse, is that they are insistent that they be put through the paces, and constantly try to risk their lives to grow their souls to get stronger. Which isn’t helping in their survivability.”
This garnered some discussion from the Grand Scholars, and the room was filled with noise as the assembled Legendaries Mages talked amongst themselves. All while Wolken calmly waited for them to finish.
“What of the others?” one of the Grand Scholars called out. “Since the knowledge of the Void Blades was made available, you’ve started to recruit more Void Mages, haven’t you?”
Wolken nodded his head. “Indeed. Though, it has been difficult to get results matching those provided by Ezekiel himself. It seems that knowledge of the possibility of forming a Void Spirit does indeed increase the difficulty. The only successes we’ve had are two individuals who took the words that Ezekiel imparted onto his students to heart.”
“What words were those?” another Grand Scholar asked.
A smile spread across the Mythical Hunters face.
“That the blade in your hands is the body of your closest ally and friend. That you must rely on it like you do your own two hands and feet. That it is one with you, just like your mana. That you must be willing to put your goals, your dreams, and your life, in its hands.”
The Grand Scholars, all of whom were once Legendary Hunters, smiled in reminiscence of the times they fought alongside their own Spirits. Melancholic as the loss of said Spirits was still felt by all of them. But such thoughts did not linger for long.
“It is good to hear that progress is being made, at least,” Wilma said. “Now, what about the Cult of Light? Have they made any more pushes into the city? I noticed that much of the damage had been repaired, so I’m assuming they let up, for the most part.”
“Correct. We haven’t been attacked for over a week now, and only suffered two. The first one, which occurred a few days after the expedition north left. Then two weeks after that, and no additional word has been heard from them since. Most likely because we finally managed to purge several thousand of their members from Lolend and the surrounding towns and cities.” The sheer number mentioned made some of the Grand Scholars reel back in shock. “I was just as surprised as you to find out just how many of them were actually here. I had thought that, given the difficulties they supposedly had in making any progress in Quintessa, that the number would be significantly lower. I can’t even imagine how bad it is in the Empire, or the Alliance.”
The thought of it made everyone in the room grimace. Given the Cult had already taken over one major independent region of the world, it wasn’t hard to believe that such numbers existed.
“... For now, we will focus on sending out a search party to attempt to find traces of the expedition north. Other than that, we spread our search for hidden Cultists to the whole of Quintessa.” Sounds of agreement filled the room. “Wolken, you will remain in the city, just in case the Cult makes another attempt to break it. Though, I’m almost certain that, by this point, they are aware of the fact that Mister Luminance isn’t here.”
Frowning at the thought of staying behind, Wolken voiced his opinion on the matter.
“Wouldn’t it be best if I went north personally? Couldn’t you just call Strom up from the south to cover for me? I could be north and back in three days, with confirmation of any signs of the expedition accurately determined and reported.”
“I am aware,” Wilma replied. “But, ultimately, ensuring that one of the central defensive cities protecting Quintessa from the Rot is more important than searching for potential survivors. Unless there’s something else that we need to be aware of--... you flinched!”
The leader of the Grand Scholars cut herself off and stared at Wolken accusingly. A few seats down from her, the Grand Scholars native to Lolend shifted uneasily in their chairs.
“What are you keeping from me? Spit it out!”
Wolken shifted uneasily. But he remained silent, even in the face of the Grand Scholar’s wrath.
“Wolken... Little brother...” Wilma’s voice took on a harsh and raspy tone. One that Wolken nearly recoiled from. “Tell me what you’re keeping secret, or I will get it from your friends.”
She pointed to the Lolend Grand Scholars, who each looked scared, knowing what Lady Wilma could do to them.
“... It turns out that one of the Hunters I sent north had a sister... One who was a part of the Cult of Light.” Wolken forced the words out of his mouth. He knew that hiding this any longer wouldn’t work.
For her part, Wilma just slumped into her chair. Exhaustion and exasperation emanated from her form in waves. While the other Grand Scholars looked on, appalled at the information they were just now receiving.
“You’re still staying,” Wilma declared. “Instead, a team composed entirely of Tempest and Lightning Hunters with flying Spirits will be sent north. With mana crystals to expedite their arrival. This is an order! Not a suggestion, an order! From the Church of Ten’s Void Cathedral!”
Her final words kept the other Grand Scholars silent. Not all nodded in approval, but none were willing to dispute the word of the Grand Scholar that had gained the approval and appointment of authority from the Void Remnant of Quintessa.
“As you command, Lady Wilma.” Wolken bowed before he was dismissed.
Leaving the room, he prayed to the Ancients that Ezekiel and the other Hunters sent north were alright. If not, then he was likely in a world of hurt when the Hunters his sister was sending north returned.
On his shoulder, his Spirit tried to comfort him, but it was a wasted effort. The Exalt knew that, until word confirmation regarding their survival was made, nothing would improve his mood.