The flailing arm that was almost as big as Mono pounded into him, and he batted it away with the end of his Staff as he heaved the Pandemic over. It didn’t really mean much, the Sluggor could just reform its arms and heads in the new orientation, but, hey, Fuego was opening his jaws again, and stealing more Fire.
That white beam played across the top of the Sluggor, concentrated this time, going deeper, touching the things inside still on fire, and glowing white as vivus raced through the entire frozen mass of it.
The top of the Sluggor ignited like a vivic bomb, hundreds of tons of frozen body mass cracking, shattering, and blowing away as the vivus took it. It looked like something had come down and taken a huge bite out of the Sluggor’s middle, leaving a bulging rump, a gaping valley in the middle, and enough in front to barely support the extruded head and huge flailing arms trying to get it into motion again.
But where was it going to go? It wasn’t slow from the level of us down here, given how much ground one wriggle could cover, but to a kaiju? It moved like it was going through mud.
Mono plied his stick energetically. He flattened the head again, and smashed left and right as the Pandemic tried to flow together. Its body mass wasn’t being replaced – oh, was that Blooding on his Staff and that Horn? Why, yes, yes it was, so no Regeneration – so it had to allocate mass from its front and back and try to fill in the middle, except that was really hard to direct when tons of demon-fungus ivory Staff is coming down to try and cut you in two where your insides are still burning.
This time, Fuego fed the existing fires.
His breath was kind of gentle, a beam pouring into that gaping hole in the middle, and the vivus exploded over the entire topside of the Sluggor, raging and racing up the unspeakable innards of the thing, up to its hide, the pulsing, throbbing veins of rot and contamination and whatever else was pumped through the thing... and the Staff came down to stop another one of those pained squeals by driving the whole area about to do so back into the mass it came from.
Freeze the middle, and down came the Staff, pound, pound, and the entire back side of the Sluggor was shattered off. It didn’t stop twitching and moving, but the vivus raging over it only got thicker as any natural resistance faded on the severing.
The front third was shrinking rapidly, trying to reallocate, trying to get away, about as much mass left as either of its attackers... which basically meant not much.
Fuego froze it, Mono shattered it; Fuego fed it, and Mono spread it. They moved and shifted, Mono pounding at the arms and head to make sure they were never in position and didn’t remain a threat, and hundreds of tons of Pandemic fell away in burning hunks, vast swathes of vivic mist now surrounding it as it tried to flee or do something.
-Finish it.-
Fuego opened his mouth, and vivic mists and flames flowed up the cone of energy towards him, the crest along his breath filling with a soft, effusive light.
Mono’s Staff came down, pounded its head down back into its bulk yet again, flattening the thing as Fuego stepped in closer, bent in at just the right angle, and hit it with the cone at close range.
An inferno coming out of a breath attack like that sounds like a hundred furnaces unloading at once. A vivic assault sounds like a tornado instead, washing over the unclean rot of the creature, eroding away the last of its defenses, and in the middle of the assault, a big stick comes down to breach the hide and open a way into its remaining insides...
The Pandemic lost it.
The explosion as it lost its grip on its mass, and its spirit tried to flee, was pretty big. The vivus certainly wasn’t going to let the main course go-
The Jaws of the Land came up out of the ground, this time big enough to swallow Ape and Dino from view, closed on a dimly transparent turd trying to get away, before slowly and grandly dropping away.
The body of the Pandemic Sluggor was completely gone. Tyrant and Emperor looked at one another, at the quickly thinning vivic mist around, and ruminated on the lesson of relative sizes...
Then, they slowly turned around to stare at the Rift, and roared at it in grandiose, animalistic displays of dominance and strength, precisely as they ought to.
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“How’s the effect?” I asked Brother Shadowknife.
“Excellent,” he replied, his black and white Helices swirling about him. “The dimensional strength around the Rift just quadrupled with the death of the Pandemic. There’s no way that it can grow, and it’s going to take even more power just to keep it open. If they send out something else like that and we kill it, it’ll force the Rift to shrink, and it’ll just close on its own.”
“Which would be bad, as they’d get to keep all their toys and go home laughing.” He cocked an unseen eye at me as I scowled at it.
Seeing no response from the Rift, which continued to circle in its many grotesque colors, the two Kaiju turned and wandered away, getting to a discrete distance from the Rift, near the Camp, before sitting down to wait and stare at it again.
The meaning was very clear. If another kaiju showed up, they were going to get involved eagerly. If not... what did they care about ants fighting? They’d just enjoy the show, while they chatted and commented from Up There.
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“What are you expecting now?” Brother Firesword asked reasonably.
“Nonstop. They are aware that vivus is affecting the Rift, so they know their time is limited. They’ll try and get as many Warped out as they can, while they can, hoping some get through before the Rift closes. They should be able to overwhelm us, after all, given they have the absolute numbers advantage.”
“Mmm.” He quirked a faint smile. “They are absolutely not going to like finding out about the Exemplar Lites among the troops, are they?”
“No, but that’s the entire idea. We’re about to enter almost constant combat for days, building up the last of the vivus we need. You ready?” This time, combat was going to be truly ruinous.
“I no longer fear numbers,” he admitted. Fast Healing combined with Healing Edge meant a return to full health in seconds as needed, with Revitalizing taking care of any fatigue. Now, he could go and go and go.
“Get all the Exemplars ready, we’re going to be setting up right in front of the Rift. Everyone else is basically on containment duty. This is going to be the final push! I want walls and trenches and all the fun stuff up as fast as we can do it!”
Thousands of fighting men and workers surged into motion. It was time for the end.
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Zynozure, the Even Scales Auction House...
The word of the Mu Goop going up for sale had spread like wildfire, helped along by Sylunar contacts among the spellcasters, spread through all the temples like wildfire, and every noble family and business with an interest in alchemy and magical item construction. Just the rumors of what some of the Mu Goop could be used to make had powerful and wealthy men on their ears to acquire some, and even learning that there’d be a second auction down in Southmarch two days later wasn’t enough to stop the auction house from being packed with bidders.
When they saw the haror working the event, jaws dropped right and left. Noble, intelligent, hard-nosed, ruthless men were oft reduced to gibbering fools as the jet-skinned, silver-haired star elfin walked by.
The starry-eyed Archpriestess who led them, and was in charge of dispersing the Mu Goop, in particular reduced their knees to jelly when they looked upon her. As word spread of the absolute beauty of the sellers, yet more folk flooded in, some merely to ogle, others with more malevolent designs, which simply added to a very excitable atmosphere.
The funds of those bidding were verified, seats were arranged, drooling fools claimed any avenue they could, and Wayfair went up to start the selling.
The illusion show that went with each and every offering of Goop, showing the relative size and age of the Mu Spores that each gallon came from, kept them all spellbound, in a combination of awe at the size of the thing, wonder at what had carved them all open, and Wayfair posing there in splendid attire before each one. Wayfair’s constant change of outfits and styles at the slightest whim would have caused a riot, if she wasn’t so untouchable.
When she started calling out for bids, the gold began to flow.
Her voice seemed to reach right into the purses and drag out the coin in musical cadence, working the owners like a thousand-year auctioneer. Even the most cold-hearted and stingy simply could not fail to open their purse-strings after a glance from her, and a taunt or tease would set off a round of bidding relentlessly.
Intellectually, those bidding realized that the haror were making a colossal fortune off all of this, but they simply couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to it in the fevered heat. Wayfair played them like puppets, everything from cooing approval to strident challenge to breezy dismissal inciting out every last coin possible to get squeezed from the wealthy and powerful of Zynozure.
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“Wayfair, Wayfair!” waved Amber, running up to her.
The auction was over. Those who had won their gallon jars of Goop had staggered off, much lighter in purse, probably having imbibed far too much excellent food and drink, and surrounded by no-nonsense guards private and hired to escort their precious cargo away. Certainly there were those who were planning to get their hands on such wonderful, money-intensive things via means other than deep purses, but that was no longer their problem.
“Yes, Amber? How were your sales?” Wayfair responded immediately. She had found, much to her initial consternation, that having her imprint in one of Sama’s Marks, and having Sama’s Mark on her, as well as having such on the girls, had hooked her into the Hag Sisterhood effect. As a result, the lilithi found herself playing a strange big sister to this group of combat-happy no-magic killing machines with enthusiasm, and spending rather too much time among a group of beings she should rightly be utterly terrified or dismissive of.
Rather than fighting it, the lilithi found it a new and unique experience, suddenly having a family that mutually cared about one another, and endorsed it with many hugs and kisses all around. The fact they were immune to any potential negative effects of her hugs and kisses only made it all the nicer.
“Ah, it turns out that when you are clearing out the wine cellars of everything for drinks, you make a LOT of money. The Florans were invaluable in the kitchens. Veis’ finger-food probably put ten pounds on everyone,” Amber relayed quickly, but then leaned forward conspiratorially. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
Wayfair leaned in as well. She was naturally in disguise, without her wings or tail or hooves or horns being on display, but that didn’t make the motion any less eye-catching. “This sounds important,” she matched Amber’s tone precisely.
“It is! The Nuavans want to speak with you.” Amber’s voice was hushed, but her eyes were dancing. Wayfair slowly arched one eyebrow, and Amber giggled at the instant thought that crossed her mind. “Well, I’m sure that IS on their minds, but they wanted to talk to you about, ah, a fresh wardrobe.”
Wayfair’s starry eyes widened. “They wish to speak about FASHION.” Amber nodded slowly. “Ah, this is EXTREMELY important, then!” Amber nodded much more eagerly, her grin threatening to split her face. “Right, to arms! We have not much time, having to get to Southmarch and all. Have you fabrics and tools and seamstresses? Aie, so much to do correctly!” She struck a pose, and her dress rippled through six permutations, turning heads all around, jaws dropping and drool starting to strike the floor.
The crystal on the back of Amber’s hand faithfully recorded every design. “I’ll get the sketchbooks done quickly; they’re already gathering up the designers.”
“Well, by all means, let’s be off to see them! Immortality awaits!” Wayfair quietly grabbed a couple other of the angelic haror also working in disguise, kissed her gratitude through the heavily sighing Harse Priests who had done all the support work for the auction (and who had also made a blessed fortune off their cut), waved to the Sylunar who’d received some nice donations and Mu Goop on the side of their own, and swept out for the Temple of Nuava, admirers and fashionistas and not a few bards, nobles, and other folk pining to catch her eye in tow.
The apocalypse in a few days? Hardly a reason to stop the launch of a new clothing line!
++++++++++++++++
Author’s Note: Nuava is the greater Chaotic Good goddess of Love, Beauty, Dance, the Arts, and Romance. Naturally her Church would fall head over heels for Wayfair.