Balancing on Voukey’s back, Elinor scanned the lowlands beyond her mountainous valley kingdom from high in the sky. Her braided white hair whipped behind her in the high altitude winds, her crown unmoved, thanks to the Flock General parting the air resistance for her.

Upon cresting the peaks to see the army that laid beyond, a small smile lifted Elinor’s emerald eyes; it was enough to do what she required.

Garu and Nelika held fast to the bird’s legs; the Mist Clan Ri’bot had a singular and straightforward job: supporting her to get the required start Elinor needed for the Exp momentum.

“Where do you wish me to land, Empress?” Voukey questioned, sharp vision scanning the thinning jungle below them as it moved to more of a forest area than jungle, before opening to hilly planes.

Near their leaders, Voukey. Garu, direct him to their tents.

“Yes, Empress!”

She let them move into a private channel, noting the terrain to the right, where a steep hill marred by rocky cliffs led into her valley; beyond it was the dualistic jungle/forest, spotted by various clearings and rivers.

Focus rising to the dark horizon, illuminated by the two half-moons bathing the landscape, she knew what she should be able to see, but due to the distance, it was difficult to spot given the span; once her two escorts concluded their short discussion, she engaged the Jukal.

Is there a supply line, or are more soldiers joining?

“A few lines of caravans, Empress, with small escorts; nothing of significant size.”

Good. What would your estimation be of their numbers?

“Just over ten thousand Ri’bot—not all warriors; there are many tenders to their animals, supplies carriers, and the like—yet on inspection, I agree with Garu’s assessment; the two Great Clans have roughly a united force of 10,000 strong. I am unsure of the others, as the jungle blocks my vision of the valley Ri’bot.”

The Desert Ri’bot?

“From what Garu described of their encampment… possibly less than fifty in total; I see Nelika’s Clan retreating in the distance.”

Excellent.

She played a careful numbers game; the way the Seed interacted with her sealed Divinity was intricate, and there was a sharp bonus to the Stats and Abilities that corresponded to her innate talents, which was how she’d grown so rapidly in her Undead Branch.

However, the true brilliance regarding this Seed was its affinity toward breaking new ground, and after meeting Erra, she could see the hints of that result.

Being Ereshkigal gave her specific advantages in the enhancement process of utilizing the Seed regarding her position as the Supreme Jailor of the Eternities; unfortunately, the only avenue she had exercised through the month had been funneled to the army category, yet she had so much more to work with.

As the Queen of the Great Netherworld, all other deities bowed to her, including Anunnaki, Announcer of Fate, and Utu, Bringer of Light, that passed through Irkalla, and anything in regards to her Realm, she had total authority.

The Tree of Life, Secret Knowledge, and many more precious hidden gems of her Existence were guarded within Irkalla’s Great Seven Gates that led to Kur, the heart of her Realm, where Ganzir—her palace—was located.

Her dominion was vast, having many symbols, such as wood, showing the fragility of life in its permanent state of growth and entropy. She was the lion of Mesopotamia—undefeated and without equal—riding the horse of death.

The river of the dead brought mortals to her gates, and, once invited through, a way out could never be found without her guidance, yet why would they wish to leave the paradise of Irkalla?

She was not a vengeful or evil Goddess; Ereshkigal had a purpose to fulfill, and she recalled visions of crying at the deaths of many mortals, knowing the pain of separation that came from her visit, yet the cycle must continue for the deadwood to burn and new growth to not become stagnant.

In her Realm, she meticulously took care of her rainbow garden that she’d personally planted to alleviate the stress of the unfortunate view some mortals had of the afterlife; yes, she had judges, yet Ereshkigal was the ultimate decider on the fate of souls, death was blind—neutral—and all were held to the same Law, including the Divine and her own sister.

Her abode had many regions, including a waiting area for judgment by her personally appointed council. Reward came in Irkalla by where the soul was sent, and condemnation was just as the name implied—self-inflicted damnation.

Despite what many believed, she had no part in a soul’s torments; everyone struggled with their own self-invoked punishment, which was perhaps worse.

Ereshkigal was a facilitator of the dead, and she took her task in the eternities very seriously; she was fair and just. That being said, she did not tolerate disrespect nor make exceptions for rule-breakers, yet she tried to give souls a path to redemption—it was their own choice to walk that harsh road—as she’d given her sister.

Elinor held no contempt for the Ri’bot she was about to go to war with; in fact, many would join her side in time. She would regain her position in the High Heavens and move beyond it to judge the arrogant entity that had attempted to usurp her place, and this was the first step in that direction.

Soaring over the canopy, Voukey descended upon the encampment of the Ri’bot. Soldiers rushed into action at the giant bird’s landing, hovering for a moment to allow Garu and Nelika to jump off; the young, female Ri’bot was shaking a little from the strain of the flight.

Respecting her resolve, Elinor jumped off Voukey, and reaching behind her neck, she untied the binding to her cumbersome dress, sliding it off to reveal her tight bra and underwear underneath.

She had no reservation about being utterly naked; in fact, at one point, she was known for her nakedness, showing you were judged naked—unable to hide from what was burned into your own soul—after your death.

Smoothly stepping away from the articles, she rolled her neck around and summoned her staff as the warriors surrounded her, shouting for her to remain still; Voukey’s intimidating presence certainly forced them to keep their distance, but it was her presence that kept their gaze.

“Halt!”

“Identify yourself!”

“Is it one of the new creatures the Komath brought?”

“It looks… similar…”

“Can you understand us?”

“It has Ri’bot with it—is that Nelika?”

“From one of the Desert Clans?”

Their words swiftly died as she summoned the Staff of the Dead, flipping it around her body to test her current physical aptitude; ever since absorbing parts of her past lives, Elinor had a wealth of combat experience ingrained into her soul.

So… My issue is low Stamina, Force, and Dexterity; it’s manageable, given what I stand to gain, and it isn’t as if I’m penalized for these Stats after Irkalla’s influence on the Seed. I just need to steadily increase them, and skill will suffice for now.

Vision rising to wander between the nervous warriors, unsure what to do with the chill of death caressing their spines and her unannounced presence, Elinor kept her controlled posture, her spear resting against her bare back.

“Who commands you… Great Chief Dralix?”

“Is that a female of their race?”

“She sounds female…”

“What is your purpose?”

They flinched as Voukey’s masculine voice echoed throughout the clearing, bringing more soldiers running. “The Empress has asked you a question.”

Elinor’s gaze shifted to her left as her enhanced Life Force Detection identified a hidden group passing through the throng.

“Empress,” Garu muttered.

I see them. Do not interfere.

“As you command.”

Nelika appeared more than a little nervous as her white spots flashed, whispering, “G-Garu, the Cartalian…”

“We know.”

A Ri’bot wearing a necklace, showing his higher rank, stepped forward a few feet. “I am First Sergeant Umara, and, yes, most of those you see come from the Great Morseng and Polsan Clans. I take it you are here to speak to Great Chief Dralix?”

“Among others,” she smoothly replied, keeping track of the swirling sand that solidified into three thoughtful Ri’bot; two were beyond her current physical scope, yet the younger spirit was within the realm of possibilities.

“My current business is with the Roxim and Komath Clans that have declared war on me, slaughtering those under my protection and kidnapping many children. Send word to Chief Krava and Chief Zargoth that I am here to discuss their terms of surrender… or their destruction.”

A shiver ran through many of the Ri’bot present at her bold words, surrounded by enemies, yet Umara gave her a respectful gesture before retreating through the opening path behind him.

Elinor focused on the three dispersed souls as they collected a meter from the gathered soldiers, hunched over and leaning against their knees while studying her.

Nelika’s face paled further as she mumbled, “High Xaria Redrix of the Blood Sand…”

The Great Clan Ri’bot backed away a tad as Voukey’s hawk-like face turned their way, causing the weakest of the three to chuckle; they didn’t move.

A brownish-brick shade with yellow spots, the stronger of the Desert Ri’bot undoubtedly sensed Voukey’s strength, but the weakest seemed to be the loud, obnoxious type.

“Hmm-hmm. Intimidating entrance; I like the style. What do you say, Mixi?”

The female spirit didn’t seem amused, her focus fixated on the Flock General. “Don’t be stupid, Telrem.”

“Hmm. She has the little Kaldraxi princess with her… Give her to us, and we needn't get involved.”

Elinor’s fingers tightened around her staff as she turned to face the impudent, young Desert Ri’bot, who was clearly ignoring the warnings his superiors gave him to keep to himself; in truth, they wanted him to test her.

“Order me with veiled threats again, and you will suffer an agonizing death.”

Sidestepping the second she finished, her spear swung around with one hand, leaving a trail of emerald flames as the tip ignited; his far longer-than-average tongue launched out, expecting an easy blow to her head, yet all it met was the razor edge of her weapon.

A fountain of the pressurized red blood within exploded as the organ split down the center, funneled away by the Death Energy flaring out of the sides; her free hand tightened into a fist at the exact same time—a dozen spiritual, unholy, lapis lazuli chains cracking space—spikes burying into Mixi’s tongue and connecting with the inflamed thrown knife that went for Nelika’s stunned throat.

The tongue and projectile were momentarily frozen in the air—she only had to stop their momentum—and the force behind them caused her chains to extend a meter beyond Elinor’s initial thoughts, proving how powerful the woman’s simple attack had been, yet it was enough of a shock to cause a retreat.

Releasing Irkalla’s Grip: First Gate I—she burned 50 Death Energy a second for every chain she called—the costly fetters retreated, snapped back into the void with bone-rattling sounds as the undamaged organ returned to Mixi’s throat.

Telrem dropped to his knees, eyes bulging as his split tongue returned to his mouth, dark green discoloration slowly spreading up its length; his spots flashed, choosing not to speak through his mouth for obvious reasons. “Gagh… what did she—my tongue is on fire…”

The youth gurgled the next second, a wicked knife suddenly exiting through his eye, Redrix killing his own Clansman before Elinor could even perceive it.

Elinor calmly watched the boy’s eyes fade as the Ri’bot’s soul grew weak, spirit breaking free from its physical form; the other guards froze at the action.

“Is this appropriate for the discourtesy, Empress, or do you wish for Xaria Mixi’s tongue and hand, as well?”

The woman kept her emotionless expression, performing some kind of complicated gesture and bow she took as a sign of wrongdoing.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Hmm. He memorized my title instantly and knew if he pushed it, Voukey would get involved; he would not be able to escape unscathed. It was a sacrifice to test my merit with the possibility of getting their hands on Nelika, likely planned before they engaged. A dangerous Clan.

Returning her staff to her back, a small smile lifted her cheeks. “I give you the option, High Xaria Redrix of the Blood Sand; Xaria Mixi’s tongue or Telrem’s corpse.”

The woman instantly opened her mouth to extend her 4-meter long organ, and Redrix severed the appendage, sending red blood spraying across the green grass; the warriors shifted uncomfortably at the display, Mixi not uttering a single cry.

They performed a respectful salute, blood dripping down Mixi’s chest before she reached into a back pouch to produce cloth to apply pressure; Redrix promptly reached down to take the boy’s body and returned to their tents to mumbles.

I was right; they knew more about me than they were letting on. Interesting.

Knowing she would likely have another meeting with the group, she turned her attention to the party that parted the throng of soldiers; her actual targets had arrived. Fennel—the Ri’bot she called Boss who had dragged her into this world—was at their front.

However, what caught her attention was the naked sixteen-year-old girl the man dragged behind him; malnourished and stumbling to keep up with her bound wrists, Elinor noted bruises, cuts, and defecation smearing her skin.

Using her to explain what I look like? Everything comes to a circle.

“Why has she not been detained?!”

Elinor was the one to respond, the Great Clan guards having retreated back two meters since her encounter with the Desert Clan. “Because they are not at war with me, Fennel. I came here not to spill blood, but I will be returning with that girl.”

* * *

Dralix eyed the savaged female human, as Chief Krava of the Komath called her; they’d made a rushed escape from the valley, leading many of the female humans to either die or collapse in fever on their trip here.

By the way they talked about this Elinor, she was a Devil from the Pits, risen to cause strife and chaos, yet the shivering girl seemed broken and terrified. Are these creatures really something to be feared?

With him was Great Chief Israg, which shared his opinion, and they would have dismissed the two valley clans outright had they not been placed in the area for this very reason; in addition, after what they’d just felt when the Great River in the Heavens opened, bathing everything in light and song, Skyspeaker Pontis couldn’t stop quivering.

“I’m not asking about this Elinor Devil,” Israg grumbled, rolling his eyes at Chief Krava’s insistence it must be related to their enemy. “I want to know what it was! We keep going around in circles.”

The wrinkled, well-respected Chief of the Fire Wars scratched his sweat-slicked head. “I’m telling you, Great Chiefs, we must act NOW! She builds strength by the day, and Chief Valdar gave his life to warn us of this very event—I’m sure of it! If we had just acted sooner—if we act now…”

“It’s coming…” Pontis whispered, making little sense since the event. “We must—”

Dralix was about to ask his Skyspeaker to go out and try to understand the winds again when a sharp gust flowed around them, carrying a strong voice that sent chills down his spine.

“The Empress has asked you a question.”

Krava’s aged face hardened. “She’s here.”

“How did she get beyond the guards?” Fennel snapped. “There are hundreds in the area!”

Everyone’s attention went to Pontis as he hugged himself, mumbling, “The sky… She came from the sky. I saw a great bird in that voice—a Lord of the Wind—we should not engage her, Great Chief.”

“It’s a bit late for that,” Israg growled, getting to his feet. “Let us see this Pit Devil ourselves.”

Chief Zargoth of the Roxim massaged his shoulders. “We should gather all of our forces; she came to us, which means there is a plan.”

First Sergeant Umara burst into the tent. “G-Great Chiefs—the human Empress, s-she has arrived; she demands an audience!”

Dralix sighed, noticing the hope in the Roxim and Komath Chief’s eyes at the Pit Devil’s miscalculation in coming directly into an army, but it felt too ominous to him, and he didn’t set out on this march prepared for war. “Pontis?”

The Skyspeaker took a shuddering breath, First General Mantix clasping his shoulder as the others exited, Fennel forcing the human girl with him. Last to leave the tent, Mantix walked beside Dralix, the Skyspeaker hesitantly taking the other side.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Old Friend,” the general whispered, vision shifting to see the hundreds of soldiers on high alert, scanning the sky as scouts rushed into the forest to make sure there wasn’t an ambush hidden nearby.

Dralix’s gaze wandered away from his respected counselor as the man opened up about the sensations he’d felt from the event not too long ago, narrowing his eyes; there were broken conversations regarding the Cartalian entering the inner circle spreading down the hushed lines of warriors.

“Great Chief,” Pontis muttered, face hardening as he looked to the two moons, “I am unsure if we can avoid conflict with this Supreme Chief that has come to us…”

“Supreme Chief?” Mantix hissed. “What are you saying?”

“There’s no, heh, other explanation, Mantix… Great Chief, I can only advise you to listen to her and pay close attention.”

“I will.”

Mind reeling at the very thought, they fell silent as they took up the tail end of the other chiefs. A Supreme Chief… How could a powerful Plants Speaker such as Valdar interpret her as a Pit Devil when Pontis sees her as a Supreme Chief?

He stared at Chief Krava’s orange back, jaw tightening. Are we being led into a trap by the Komath and Roxim? They’ve pushed hard for this war council; I suppose I will find out why soon enough.

Entering the circle as Fennel snarled, asking why she wasn’t detained, Elinor gave the appropriate response, showing herself frighteningly knowledgeable on the situation.

Her luminous, jade irises held a dignity that momentarily captivated him. Behind her were two Ri’bot—one being the Kaldraxi scout he’d met days before—and a colossal bird that more than spoke of danger; he doubted he could contend with the predator as a Great Chief Xaria. Pontis was right; this was no ordinary being.

The human girl Fennel brought began to make unnatural sounds with her throat, seemingly crying and begging for the man’s hand to strike her; goosebumps slid down Dralix’s arms as it was stopped by a blue, stone-like chain.

It split space, and once stopping the blow, it retracted, the girl falling to her butt in a fit of tears, yet everyone’s attention was on the extracting barbs that had penetrated the warrior’s arm, showing no blood as they left.

Elinor’s voice followed. “Hmm. How about I give you a chance to take my head, Fennel; do you believe you are even capable?”

“Urgh…” He threw the girl’s rope down and took the shield off his back; the double-headed ax of ancient design shimmered with his bracelet—one of the few valley Ri’bot families to retain the old technology—technology the Desert Ri’bot said they could revive. “You may be unkillable, but you are weak!”

“Watch yourself,” Krava muttered. “Those chains are… fast and unusual.”

“I can block them now that I know what it is.”

Dralix didn’t miss the looks some of his men gave each other, hearing the fate of the Desert Ri’bot; they’d tested her and had instantly regretted it, going so far as to kill their own man and cut off a Xaria’s tongue in compensation for the disrespect—he didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Zargoth stepped forward to whisper in Krava’s ear, still able to be heard by Fennel and those close by. “You said she leaves her clothing and precious metals behind when her body collapses?”

“Yes. Do you believe her powers reside in them?”

“Possible,” the Roxim Chief muttered. “Keep it in mind, Fennel.”

It was certainly interesting information that he tucked in the back of his mind as the strong human patiently waited—she was a complete contrast to the pitiful female with similar characteristics to the apparent goddess—if his Skyspeaker was to be believed.

“You want single combat?” Fennel laughed. “Did you forget the last time you tried to send your dead bones after me?”

“Yes. So, as for conditions and upholding the honor of your Clan, I will propose a favorable deal on your part.” Her tone made him believe she was amused. “No one will interfere, and if you can destroy this body, I will allow myself to be captured; you will have me to do as you please.”

Brows furrowed at her declaration, Fennel shaking himself out, preparing for combat. “Hehe. Your bird won’t attack us and swoop you away like a coward?”

“No. I told Voukey and Garu to not interfere.”

“What of the Kaldraxi Scout—is she a hostage—is that what you want; a hostage negotiation?”

Nelika swiftly spoke up at the question. “I’m not a hostage! M-My great-grandfather asked me to, eh, to be her—I mean, our ambassador…”

Elinor gestured at the sweating four-year-old Scout. “As you heard, she simply wished to be present; I didn’t ask why. Now, as to if I win…”

“I get it—you want this sniveling human?”

“Indeed,” the Empress chuckled. “I will take… What is your name?”

The naked girl choked a few unintelligible phrases.

“Elena Chistau? A pretty name. Elena, you needn’t be worried any longer; you will see your family in the next few hours and be cared for.”

She broke back into tears, making Dralix feel sorry for the creature. Everyone has something to lose, and I can see why Elinor would be wrathful toward those who treat her people like animals. A bad tactic on the part of the valley clans that could have avoided all of this… but I suppose the Crystal was involved.

“Hah. That is if you actually—” Fennel snapped, swinging his ax as he stepped forward.

“I haven’t finished my conditions,” Elinor crisply interrupted. “On your honor, you will: release Elena to me, your Chiefs will listen to my demands, and I will leave this clearing without bloodshed. Acceptable?”

“I will put your skin to fire for the pain you have caused my people,” Fennel snarled. “Forcing us from our homes, bending the other clans to your will, and… what have you done to Toka’s group?”

“Toka?” Elinor hummed. “Oh, you’re referring to the spies you sent… So far as I am aware, Tiffany utterly broke them, mind and spirit; in fact, I know so much about the Roxim, including your Chief, by their extracted information. I didn’t even need to raise them from the dead.”

“Pits licker… They were good soldiers; they will be honored in—”

“The Great River in the Sky; do you truly think there is such a deity supporting you? I don’t think there is a Death Goddess or Deity left in—whichever multiverse or Existence we currently inhabit—do you understand the implication? No. I thought not, but it is tragic… I do not wish to see spirits suffer such a fate as a Supreme Goddess of Death.”

“Blasphemy!” Fennel spat, causing many other Ri’bot to follow his example at her grandiose declamation that mirrored the White God of the Quen’Talrat, but the Great Chief entertained the idea.

What if she is what we’ve heard?

“Call it what you will,” Elinor sighed, “but I am your One Above All, and I will show you the error of your ways… by force if need be. Do you accept my conditions on your honor?”

Dralix’s gut tightened as Chief Zargoth and Krava spoke in unison.

“We accept.”

Krava’s nose twitched with contempt. “You will know the pain I felt at the loss of my best friend—Valdar deserved a better death.”

“Hmm?” A smirking, secretive tone touched the mysterious woman’s voice. “Heh. On the contrary, Chief Krava, he has found great purpose in serving me in death, as will you all.”

Great Chief Israg put a hand on Dralix’s shoulder. A brooding look told him everything he needed to know; his friend was now taking this Pit Devil seriously.

“Split-tooth tongue sapper!” Fennel roared, jumping forward to engage her.

* * *

Elinor made sure her bra was secure after responding, a small smirk on her lips as the first obstacle in her plan threw his ax at a blinding speed.

Predicting the move, she didn’t move since it would barely miss her neck; he was trying to frighten her and make a cheeky attack on Voukey, believing she would try to escape despite her word.

The Flock General simply let the sharp spike harmlessly hit him in the chest, unconcerned—his feathers were stronger than steel—and, before touching the ground, the weapon shot back to Fennel’s hand.

Stabbing the Staff of the Dead in the earth to anchor its ability, she stepped to the Ri’bot’s right—cheers sounded from the crowd to take her head—holding out her hand, chains shot out for her to grab, pulling Elinor away from the shield bash.

A second shot from her staff to latch onto the ax, keeping it in place—Fennel was far weaker than the Desert Ri’bot—and sending a chain out of her elbow to meet the off-guard warrior’s skull, it connected, pulling her toward the back of his head.

At the last minute, Fennel abandoned the held weapon, spinning to slam his shield against her side; not having too much Death Energy to spare after everything she’d done thus far, Elinor allowed his own twisting momentum to carry her out of harm’s way, releasing the chains to roll to a stop—it was already over.

Adjusting her bra strap as Fennel snatched his now free ax out of the air, Elinor tossed her thick, snow-white braid over her shoulder with a short chuckle; the bright, emerald sphere of Death Energy grew more brilliant as it drew life from its proximity, waves of Fennel’s Spiritual Energy being drawn into the staff.

“What were the names of your spy team again—was one of them Roka—a twin?”

“Don’t you speak their names!” Fennel spat, jumping forward as Elinor moved back into range, but he didn’t have the same vigor as before.

She chuckled, dodging around his blows in a semi-casual manner to further infuriate him, even if it was challenging. “Is it me, or are you slowing?”

“W-What are you doing to me?!” he huffed, swiftly catching sight of the staff. “Your weapon…”

Dancing forward to be blocked by his shield, she hummed. “Do I need it?”

“Humph!” He expertly brought his ax to his belt with a laugh, fingers reaching out to take her staff; typical bait, not that he would have anything to base it off of. “If you don’t have your weapon—”

He tried to throw it into the crowd for it to remain attached to his fingers, Elinor’s own clutched into a fist behind her back.

“What…”

“Fennel, throw it away!” Krava shouted, glancing at the Skyspeaker, who was likely one of the few present who could sense something unnatural about her weapon.

“I can’t!”

“A shame,” Elinor mused, walking forward with her boots crumbling the long, dying grass, all plant life turning yellow and brown before becoming dust; it had begun the moment she’d stabbed her weapon into the earth.

Chains shot out of the ground to grab his flailing arms and force the Ri’bot down with a grunt; three more pinned his legs and struggling body to the soil as Elinor loomed over him.

The Staff of the Dead could draw in life within its proximity; all she had to do was keep him nearby, and once he had a grip on it, she’d latched a link from it to his spirit, giving a direct, welcomed tap into his Core to suck dry.

Sure, it wasted more Death Energy overall at its current stage, but that was more than acceptable since she had converted a large portion of her Unintelligent Undead into the raw resource to exercise these new skills that would become so much more as time went on.

“Observe, Great Chiefs, as I take Fennel’s life… Did any of you notice him growing weaker—sluggish—as I played with him, stealing months from his life… Look at the grass—heh, well, I suppose it no longer constitutes as such.”

“I… what are you…” he croaked, his skin discoloring and sagging as the process ramped up.

“I told you, I am the Supreme Goddess of Death—The One Above All—and judgment is to be met in Irkalla.”

The Ri’bot swiftly retreated as Fennel became a husk, leaving only his bracelet and ax, fearful mutters heard throughout the groups.

Elinor turned a soft smile to the stunned and sickly teenage girl. “Garu, help Elena onto Voukey’s back; Tiffany will see to her recovery when we return.”

Lips falling, her gaze drifted to the two stunned Chiefs. “Prepare your clans for destruction, Zargoth, Krava; tonight, I will meet you alone as I have just demonstrated. If any of your clan seeks mercy, gather around the humans…”

Her focus went to the crying teenager as Garu helped her walk across the barren, sandy circle to Voukey, being careful with her; Staff of the Dead returning to her hands in a swirl of Death Energy, her tone hardened upon returning to the two ashen-faced Chiefs.

“If there is any further harm done to them—and I will know if there is—the Pits will seem like paradise.”

Atmosphere silent as the vacuum of space in the oppressive field she generated by the experience she’d gained from Fennel, her vision went to the Great Chiefs. “Come to the Roxim camp at dawn… Nothing will be left.”

Not one overwhelmed soul stopped her after seeing the unnatural way she fought as Elinor gathered her clothes and mounted Voukey, helping Elena to remain stable.

Imperial Presence was like a weight on their shoulders, and Elinor took one last look at the uncertain throng, not knowing if she was their enemy, and the Chiefs knew the Great Clans would stop them from attacking her in the hope she wasn’t.

“I am Irkalla. Do not forget my name.”

The wind rushed past her as Voukey took into the heavens, returning them to Nethermore for Elinor to complete her preparations.