The Newt and Demon - Book 8 Chapters 40,41,42 (Patreon)

Chapter 40

Red vs Blue

Theo knew little about warfare in Iaredin. The only touchstone he had was the information Luras and Aarok had given him about the Qavelli Irregulars, which were a group of soldiers drawn from far-flung places in the dead kingdom. What he was witnessing below was interesting, but he wouldn’t qualify the fighters as career military folk. They were less disciplined than the adventurers in Broken Tusk, and held almost no cohesion.

“That’s gonna cost them!” Fenian shouted with a cackle. “The red team’s captain tried to flank, but failed to defend their own!”

“What we’re seeing is an insane melee,” Theo said. “What’s the point of spreading out into ranks if you’re not going to fight in those ranks?”

“Exactly, Theo. What we’ve got here is a case of low-level people who read too many books on war.” Fenian shook his head, jabbing his finger toward the red team again. “The commander for the red team just got clobbered. Now we watch as they descend into chaos.”

Theo realized it would’ve been better if both teams had started out of formation. He watched as people stabbed at each other. None of the attacks pierced the skin, though. A red or blue flash of light appeared where the strike happened, leaving that limb limp. In the case that someone was struck on the head, they toppled to one side unconscious. That led the alchemist to a thought. This would be an amazing training ground for soldiers. If they couldn't be injured, then they could conduct as many war games as they wanted without fear of losing any of their force. He shook the thought away, returning to commentating instead.

"I'm feeling this is going to go on for a while," Theo said, scratching his head. "Without any cohesion, it's one fighter versus the other. How long do you think this is going to go on for, Fenian?”

"That depends," Fenian said. "There are a few javelin throwers on the red team who have decent aim, and red has been smart enough to pool those weapons together. So we might see a turning of the tide here pretty soon.”

"I bet you saw a lot of stuff like this during the war," Theo said. He didn't press the button for that comment.

Fenian turned, a slightly dark expression passing over his face for only a moment before his normal cheerful error returned. "We fought in a similar fashion, but the monsters didn’t line up for us to kill. But there was a lot of standing on defensive walls, falling back, fighting retreats. It was not a fun time." 

"So you know that Elrin is fighting a war in heaven, right?" Theo asked. "Do you think that's really a good idea? Is it part of your weird master plan?"

“The gods will respect us more if we show them what we can do. Plus, it'll help them be prepared for what's going to happen when we do the switch. Right now, we think they're too complacent. If they continue on this path, they won't be ready when gods from afar attack. And trust me, they will attack.” Fenian paused for a few long moments, his eyes locked on the battle below. “The first strike will come from the Lady of Light. I’m sure of it.”

Theo thought he remembered the name of that god. From what he understood, the world Fenian grew up with was monotheistic. There might have been minor gods he was unaware of, but he had only heard reference to this Lady of Light. That meant she was outside of the bubble somehow, biding her time. But how did Fenian know that? The alchemist decided not to ask questions and instead returned to his job as a commentator.

The fight was predictable after that. The blue team was ultimately the victor after taking out everybody else on the red team. Theo was happy to see that. When the fighting was over, nobody on either team held animosity toward the other. They shook hands, and the audience screamed with excitement. And that's when he learned he would be stuck for the rest of the day commentating the bracketed fights. At first, he wanted to be upset about it, but then he realized it would probably be the most interesting series of fights during the entire tournament.

During their break, Theo and Fenian had some food in the same commentating booth. It was catered by the Marsh Wolf Tavern and included a few of the alchemist's favorite spicy dishes. He ate happily, finding that despite his initial impressions, he was more excited to get back to commentating than expected. There was something about watching the organized games, including the reaction of the audience, that he loved.

“All the fights will be between fighters labeled red and blue. The audience doesn't know exactly who they are unless they can determine that by sight. I don't know if this is to keep their identity a secret for the prize category, but all participants are able to wear a mask if they want.” Fenian concerned himself with a plate of rich meat, washing it down with more than a few cups of wine. “We’ve got a decently big bracket, so I hope you’re ready to do some seriously good commentating!”

Theo doubted that the first few rungs of the ladder would be anything but a one-sided battle. The audience might not have information on the fighters, but as the commentators, they had access to the levels and cores of those participating. The first fight would be somebody at level 20 and another near level 80. It was going to be a bloodbath.

"Do you really think antagonizing the gods is the way to go?" Theo asked. "I understand the angle of trying to make sure they're ready, but it's kind of going over their heads, isn't it?  

"Except the system agreed to it. We had a secret little meeting and decided to hold our own version of the war games in the heavens. If they have a problem with it, then they can take it up with the system itself." 

Theo decided it was finally time to let it go. Fenian's reassurance that the system was involved was enough for him, so he dropped it. Instead, he turned his attention to the docket today. They would have at least five fights, depending on how long they took. But for some reason, he suspected they would get through far more than that. Once they had finished their meal, it was time to get back into their seats and reintroduce the crowd to the games. An hour break was enough for them to get their energy back up.

Not that they needed much help. This was the main event, after all.

The first fight went exactly as they had expected. There was a disparity in level between the two fighters. Red crushed blue in a matter of moments. The thing the alchemist was nervous about was whether the building could handle such a difference in power. But it did so gracefully, showing the same glowing hit indicators and ensuring that the overpowered defender was not killed in a single stroke. The audience was fairly confused. A few groans issued, but eventually they cheered for the battle.

"That's what we're expecting in the lower brackets of this tournament," Fenian announced. "There's no level limit for applying, and we just witnessed the result of that."  

"I'm just happy that the safety protocols of the arena held up," Theo said, nodding with approval. "Looks like we're gonna get through more than five fights today if we can hurry things up." 

That got a massive cheer from the crowd. It also put a fire under the butts of the organizers, who trotted out the next pair of fighters quickly.

“If we can get through eight fights today, I think we'll see an interesting matchup,” Theo said, not pressing the button. He wanted to share his excitement for the more interesting battles with his co-commentator.  

"One of them's a commander in the Tarantham Navy,” Fenian said with a shrug. “Said to be good with a sword. Perhaps not on my level of swordsmanship, but dangerously close.”

“What about his match?” Theo asked, tracing the lines through the brackets. “An ogre? Didn’t know we had ogre participants…”

“And a strange one,” Fenian said. “Used to worship Spit before the ascendants fell. Now he worships Hallow.”

“A healer, huh?” Theo asked, shaking his head.

“And maybe something else. We’ll have to see.”

Theo found himself getting even more excited for the fight. He wanted to see what a high-rank healer could do, especially one as savage as an ogre. As he had predicted, the lower rungs of the bracket cleared out very quickly. Those who had come applying at level 20, 30, and even 40 were quickly crushed by those approaching the ascendancy levels. To get to a high level around 80 or 90, one had to be a master of something. They had to be extremely knowledgeable not only about the way their classes worked but also plain good at what they did.

One didn’t slack their way to such levels, showing an incredible level of control and skill.

Eventually, the titular fight came. It was the elf on the red side and the ogre on the blue. Dusk had only recently fallen, and a series of lights switched on within the arena. Theo wasn't sure if those lights were provided by the building itself or something that Throk had imagined. After a short break, the last fight of the day was ready to kick off.

"What we've got here is a pretty interesting match," Fenian said. "In the red corner, we have an elegant practitioner of the elven sword style, and in blue, we have someone with healing powers. I think it's not blowing their identity to reveal them as an ogre, is it, Theo?"

“Not at all. You’d have to be blind, both in the nose and eyes, not to know that.”

The crowd roared with laughter.

"Let's see how this plays out," Fenian said, leaning in.

Neither red nor blue chose to wear a mask for this fight. They apparently weren't worried about anyone knowing who they were. Theo smiled to himself. They would likely have a different opinion if they knew the prize for this particular tournament. It was one of his insane attribute potions. But they both moved with grace to their respective corners of the arena. Since they were both level 80 or higher, he doubted there would be enough space for them. Lots of barriers would spring up, preventing them from leaving the area or incinerating the crowd. From the elf, Theo expected nothing but excellent sword work. But the ogre was unknown. He held a hammer in his hand and wore little more than robes and sandals.

"Are both parties ready?" Fenian asked, nodding with approval as both the elf and ogre raised a hand. "Well then, here we go. Three, two, one, fight!"

The elf moved in an absolute blur, even with his obscene attributes, Theo could barely track their movement across the field. They moved in a zigzag, darting from left to right with each impossibly quick step. When they came to deliver a thrusting strike to the ogre, the healer didn't make a single move. The force of the thrust sent clouds of dust shooting up in two directions.

“Oh, well!” Fenian shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “Looks like we’ve found the first limit of the arena! That’s a clean strike!”

Theo narrowed his eyes, mouth falling open. He didn’t press the button on the table. “Damn! We gotta stop the fight.”

“Now, now… Let’s give it a moment,” Fenian said. “Look, the ogre didn’t even flinch. Trust that the arena knows what it’s doing.”

Theo leaned in, wondering if his mouth could drop even further. “The arena didn’t fail!” he shouted, jamming his finger into his button. “He warped space around the blade, making a tiny portal over the point of impact!”

“My gods!” Fenian shouted. “Looks like our ogre has at least one interesting core!”

“That’s not all,” Theo said, jabbing his finger into the window. He zoomed, watching blue. “That’s a lot of light coming from blue’s eyes. Things are about to get spicy!”

Chapter 41

The Stupid War

The crowd went silent as red and blue stood where they were. The elf, with sword extended, looked up at the ogre with confusion. Perhaps there was some invisible battle of the minds going on, where both parties were figuring out the best way to move forward.

“I’m no expert in this world’s combat, but I think we’ve got ourselves a stalemate,” Theo said, adjusting his screen so he could get a better look. “Is blue holding the blade in place?”

“I think so, Theo,” Fenian said. “Looks like that portal has some gravity magic in it, meaning our little ogre has an interesting combination of cores. Red doesn’t want to give up the sword, so let’s see… Oh, there it is!”

Red was the first to move, pivoting on his back heel and ripping the blade free. He then delivered a series of attacks that could only be described as impossible. Theo counted at least 100 strikes in a breath, each deflected by gravity magic, or sent through a portal to harmlessly strike the ground. The elf then jumped back, sword at the ready for another strike. Silence settled in over the arena once again.

"Now that was some seriously good swordplay!" Fenian shouted, pounding his fist on the table and howling with excitement. But Blue managed to deflect every single strike without moving an inch. "We have to ask if he's actually going to use that hammer, or if it's simply ornamental."

"Do you think blue is waiting for the opportunity to strike, or is he just trying to wear red down?" Theo asked, cupping his chin.  

"There's no way he's going to wear a swordsman of that caliber down. Red took the back foot to rest between strikes, meaning that this could go on forever if the ogre doesn't make a move.”

They continued their speculation as the silent battle continued down below. Theo eventually narrowed his eyes, opening his magic senses wide enough that he could actually feel something. That's when he saw what was actually going on. Just like Fenian had done several times before, he slammed his fist on the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as stunted as my magical senses are, I just opened them and got a glimpse as to what's actually happening," Theo shouted, finding himself completely enthralled in the battle. “Both red and blue are currently assailing each other with what can only be described as torrents of magic rolling over the arena floor. Hold on. Maybe we have a setting here in the arena to visualize the attacks.”

“Try that button,” Fenian suggested. “No, the other one. I think you just broadcasted our faces to the whole arena. Yeah! There it is!”

In an instant, the arena down below was transformed. It visualized the magic from the elf as red, and the ogre's magic as blue. A tide of magical power was swirling in the center of the arena, seeming to battle for dominance. Theo didn't know that the swordsman had access to magic, but judging by the flavor and quantity of the tea, the elf was an accomplished spellcaster.

"By my estimation, both of them are using basic mana manipulation to fight the other. They're feeling each other out, looking for gaps," Theo said, craning his neck to get a better look. "And right now, it seems as though blue is taking the upper hand." 

"But that's a lot of mana dumping into the field. I can't imagine they're going to keep that up for long," Fenian said, narrowing his eyes. “Just as a reminder to the audience, the rolling commentary during the fights is only heard by those in the stands. The competitors can't hear any of this insider information, so I'm happy to share that red is preparing for another series of attacks. Let's see what this next exchange gives us.”

Fenian was right. The elf was working his way slowly to one side before coiling back, but there was no way Theo could have predicted what happened next. Red rushed forward, bursting through a hole in the field of magic before slamming into an unexpected obstacle. Blue had moved for the first time since the fight began, parrying aside a thrust with his hammer and coming forward to deliver a series of savage blows. Blue was finally taking hits though, but as soon as the limb was struck by the sword, he would wave his hand and healing magic would pass over him, removing the injury registered by the arena.

Theo was beside himself, unable to describe the series of attacks that was taking place below him. Fenian gave the play-by-play, noting each strike as it came and each healing spell. Of course, these attacks came in such quick succession it was hard to keep up. Instead, he gave the short version.

“Blue takes a hit and heals it. Red feints and gets a good hit—No, that one is healed as well. Blue cast some debuff, but… No, red removed the debuff and… Hold onto your hats, folks!”

The impact from the vicious strikes radiated with such power that the barriers protecting the audience buckled. Theo was planning to get down there and reinforce them when the last series of blows came. It appeared as though blue had the upper hand at first, his hammer glowing with a silver light. But red's swordsmanship was unparalleled. He went into overdrive, delivering a series of slices and stabs that withered away the healing magic. Theo was certain that the swordsman would come out on top. There was no way the ogre could keep up with such a massive assault.

Blue staggered to one side, his entire body glowing red from the strikes. Red stood at a cautious distance, sword leveled and ready to deliver the killing blow. He leaned in with a measured thrust, poking into the ogre’s chest. The big guy fell a moment later, and the elf sagged from exhaustion.

“There it is!” Fenian shouted. “A war of attrition in the end, but the elven swordsman won it out.”

Theo leaned forward, mouth falling open again. “I’ve never seen anything like that!” he shouted, smacking Fenian on the back of the head to get his attention. “Look!”

The swordsman had turned away from the ogre, already counting his victory, but a bright silver light was pouring from Blue's chest, washing over his body and scouring away the red hit markers. Since the combatants couldn't hear the sound of the audience, or Theo and Fenian’s surprised jabbering, he didn't notice that the ogre had risen to his feet, and he didn't notice the hammer coming down on his head. What resulted next was a series of savage attacks that first crippled and then brought the elf to his knees. By the end of that, both of them were heaving breaths with broad smiles on their faces. Eventually, Red presented his sword and bowed his head.

Fenian was furiously swiping through screens on the window, eventually finding something that explained what was going on. "I don't believe it!" he shouted. “According to the arena's combat system, that was self-resurrection magic.”

“I’ve never heard of such a spell,” Theo said, throwing his hands in the air. “Is that against the rules?”

“The arena says it is within the bounds of the rules. The cooldown for the spell is a year, and it only brings someone back from a near-death state, not fully dead,” Fenian said. “So, red didn’t actually get the kill. If anyone in the audience still has eardrums, they’re soon to be busted wide open!”

The sound of the crowd was deafening. People were standing in their seats, throwing their hands in the air and shouted as loudly as they could. Theo found himself drawn into the madness, pumping his fist in the air.

“By all the gods I can count, Theo,” Fenian said, leaning back with a massive smile on his face. “I think this is the most emotion I’ve ever seen you express.”

“Come on!” Theo shouted, gesturing to the window. “Did you see that? I’ve never seen people fight like that.”

Fenian frowned. “You’ve seen me fight.”

“Yeah, but we cheat. Those are just regular people who climbed the ladder the right way. We’ve got mega cheats from space birds.” Theo shook his head. “We are not the same.”

“You wound me,” Fenian said, fanning himself with his hat. “I learned to fight during the war, you know. I could hold my own down there.”

Theo truly doubted that the combatants who had just fought were on a completely different level from anyone he had seen before. The alchemist realized that hanging around with people who relied on cheats had skewed his perception of what a person was capable of in this world. He was certain that the amount of skill that went into that fight was beyond anything he could comprehend. The only person he could think of in his life who could compare was Khahar, and he was currently stuck in the Arbiter's Citadel.

After Theo and Fenian signed off for the day, they enjoyed the private tunnel that took them outside the arena. Down in the stands, things were insane. People were already partying before they even left the building and moved across the causeway. Instead of dealing with that, he teleported both himself and Fenian to town, where they somehow found themselves with drinks in their hands and a song on their lips. They were soon joined by Tresk, who wouldn’t shut the hell up.

“And then he went like this—BAM!” Tresk shouted, swinging an imaginary hammer.

Something that Theo had feared since arriving in Broken Tusk was the introduction of alcohol. But during the End of the World Games, he figured it wouldn't be too damaging. He smiled as he watched people returning from the arena, celebrating in the streets. They would be lucky to get any sleep tonight. Since the bracketed one-on-one fights started again tomorrow, things were only going to get even crazier. He hadn't expected himself to be swept up in the excitement of everything, but there he was, singing a song about how Red almost won the fight. It was a crude limerick, but catchy.

Theo lost track of the time. He paced himself with the booze, but eventually felt a strange nagging at the back of his mind. It took him far too long to realize what it was and worked his way through the crowd to find Tresk.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “Last-minute business to attend to.”

“I got your bizniss right here,” Tresk said, flexing and slurring her speech.

Theo shook his head, dropping them both into the void before angling for the System’s platform. They arrived in the snowy landscape a moment later, trudging over the drifts and ascending the steps of the platform.

“You rang, your crystalness?” Tresk asked, swaying to one side.

She appeared in her crystal form a few moments later, shaking her head. “Why does it have to be you two?”

Theo shrugged. “You summoned us, lady.”

“I mean, why do you have to hold positions of power? Nevermind. I thought to give you a report before you slip into the dream realm for the night,” the system said.

“A report on the stupid war!?” Tresk asked, tripping to one side. She fell on her back, vision swimming. “I’m just gonna lay here.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” Theo said, kneeling to pat her on the head. “So, you agreed to the war games?”

The system nodded, still looking down on Tresk with disgust. “There were convincing arguments. When Death and Hallow agreed, I thought it was best to move forward.”

So the games were a lot less impromptu than Elrin had made them sound. That made Theo feel even better about what was going on. Maybe he was just still amped up about the games. “That’s awesome.”

“Indeed it is. Would you like a full report?”

Theo looked down at Tresk. She was already asleep, lingering in the void between here and the dream realm. “Sure, why not? She’s not going anywhere.”

Chapter 42

Interlude: Warriors of the Shard

Zeal had taken his name when he left his body back on Earth. When the chance had come to say farewell to his horrible life back then, he didn’t hesitate. He hadn’t been presented with options, and had instead been given a body from a race called the vulbet. They were hearty people, often standing seven-foot tall and rippling with muscles. Covered in a thin layer of fur, they could come in all different colors, and indeed Zeal had discovered that his own fur changed over time.

It was currently a pleasant shade of blue-gray. Not that one could see much of it under his heavy armor.

His biggest regret was his companion, who had followed behind him even though her life’s circumstances were pleasant. She had taken the name Solace, and assumed the form of a pot-bellied maeth. They sat on a rise, looking over the glittering waves of an ocean that didn’t seem to end. As always, she had a dour look on her face as though she wanted to be anywhere but the elemental god of water’s domain.

“That was quite the fight,” Zeal said, breathing a contented sigh. “About time these gods learn how to wage war, wouldn’t you say?”

Solace grunted, rising to her feet and propping her rifle against her shoulder. The weapon had grown with her over the last sixty-thousand years, growing strong enough to strike fear into the heart of anyone. A god wasn’t safe from its reach. Not young gods like these, anyway.

“Seems like a waste of time,” Solace said. “We could just take the thrones.”

Zeal’s laugh boomed across the grassy field. Sea birds responded overhead, their coastal song joining with his jovial voice. “Then we’d have to run the damned realms! How willing are you to sit on a throne of water for the rest of your days?”

Solace shook her head, looking down the sights of the rifle. A grin crossed her face. “I could hit her from here.”

“Only fair play today, I’m afraid,” Zeal said.

“If she thought to secure her border anchors, this fight would’ve ended back at the gate,” Solace grumbled. “The world has enough energy to make some Rank 10 fighters, right?”

Zeal hummed to himself, accessing the system menu he had been given as a commander.

[Silver’s Domain]

Defenders: 10,000 (Rank 5 Average)

Attackers: 200 (Rank 15 Average)

Energy: 50%

Anchors: 100 (50 captured)

Domain Strength: Fading

“She had enough power for some decent defenders,” Zeal corrected. “What has she been spending her energy on, anyway? Hah! I wonder how the assault is going in Death’s realm.”

“A lot more interesting than this one, that’s for sure,” Solace said.

The assault on the world had been brutal and swift. Zeal took comfort in the fact that none of the defenders were souled. They were all energy constructs generated by the realm, but he wasn’t above killing to make their point. Those constructs they found had been pathetic, barely deserving of the rank they were given. They had no training, no interesting powers, and no command structure. Each had fallen to the warriors in minutes, resulting in the capture of the World Anchors.

“She’s moving,” Solace announced, breaking Zeal out of his thoughts. “She’s coming across the sea on a tidal wave.”

“How dramatic!” Zeal boomed, rising to his feet. He grasped the handle of his greatsword, pulling it from the ground to give it a test swing. Just like the gun, it was a weapon designed to advance with its owner. “What’s our approach, my dearest?”

“Chop her head off.”

“Tone it down a hair.”

Solace grumbled. “Warning shot.”

“Make it so!”

Solace shook her head, looking down the sights of her rifle. Zeal felt the energy gathering in the air. Ribbons of magic swirled from around her as she drew on the power of the world. A marble-sized ball of pure mana formed at the tip of the rifle before she let out a breath. At the last moment, she pulled to the left and pulled the trigger.

Zeal had learned long ago to plug his ears when someone used a magical rifle. The ground beneath Solace cracked, a fissure forming behind them wide enough to swallow a house. The blowback from the rifle was enough to flatten trees on either side and the resulting beam of power that spewed from the barrel threatened to break through the barrier that held the world together. Where the beam traveled, the sea parted. Stone at the bottom of the sea was rendered molten, hissing as the ocean rushed back to fill the void.

“If she hasn’t soiled herself, I’d be shocked,” Zeal said with a hearty laugh. He dug into his ears, attempting to remove the constant ringing.

“Should I fire another?”

“Why would you shoot her mother?” Zeal asked.

Solace turned, offering only a deadpan expression. She sighed, raising her voice. “Should I fire again?”

“No, no. She’s coming on her own; no need to worry.”

Sure enough, the shot had only given Silver pause, instead of driving her away. That was the first good sign. She needed to have the will to continue forward. If a world-ending shot was enough to break her confidence, the entire sector was doomed. That’s what Elrin said, anyway. This wasn’t an attack to usurp the gods. That would’ve been too easy. This was training day, and anyone unwilling to learn would get thrown on the pile. Only then would they be replaced.

Silver came in time, surfing over the beach and taking a few tentative steps forward. Zeal laughed. She was sizing them up as though she had a chance. From the intel they had, she was one of the more dangerous gods, if only because of her personal power. How she hadn’t ascended the ranks was beyond him, but he suspected the answers would come flowing soon enough.

“Greetings!” Zeal shouted, beckoning her over. He shot Solace a look, forcing her to sigh and point her rifle skyward. “Sorry about the destruction, but one must make a point when one is required to do so.”

“Who are you?” Silver asked, stalking over the beach.

Zeal could feel her gathering power. He focused on the primordial forces of the universe, gaining some sense for how strong she was. He placed her at about a stunted Rank 12. Unfortunately, the people of this world hadn’t learned how to transcend the system. They could be Level 1000 in their local system and not even touch a Rank 10. The fact that she had pushed to 12 was impressive.

“My name is Zeal and this is my companion Solace. We’re part of the Warriors of the Shard, a group dedicated to defending Iaredin at all costs.” Zeal performed a sweeping bow, half-expecting her to strike as he was down. But she didn’t. “Your world is woefully undefended. The moment the temporal barrier drops, you will be assaulted without end. My troops number 200, all at or above Rank 15. Your world is suited to defend against a small army, no more than 10000, at Rank 5.”

Silver’s face twitched. That’s when Zeal noticed something in her arms. She placed a small dog on the ground. It was a chihuahua that yapped constantly after touching the sandy shores. “Perhaps you have underestimated me,” she said.

“Not even the slightest. According to the rules, your world is halfway to becoming mine,” Zeal said. “If I were to slay you, that would be that. You’re better served behind a wall with an army of constructs before you. Never face your enemy head-on. Not unless they threaten the last 25 anchors.”

“So this is a lesson?” Silver seethed, her fists clenched.

Zeal snapped his fingers. “Pugilism! I haven’t seen a hand-to-hand fighter in a while.” He dug his sword into the grassy ground, rolling his shoulders. “How fast do you think you really are?”

“I could match Khahar for speed and power.”

“Who is that?” Zeal asked, turning to Solace. She shrugged. “Fine! How about a test?”

“Oh, god. Here we go,” Solace said, shouldering her rifle and retreating to a safe distance.

“Test all you want, little man.”

“Hah! I like you already,” Zeal said. “Ready? Three, two, one… Go!”

One moment Zeal was standing up the hill, situated near the fissure Solace had created. The next, he was winding up a hit about a foot from Silver’s face. Her eyes went wide, but there was no time to respond. The fraction of a millisecond it took for him to deliver the strike was too much for her. Before her mind could register what was happening, she was skipping across the sea. She covered miles per skip, each impact shredding her fur and leaving behind a constant stinging sensation.

Silver gasped for breath, finding herself on an unfamiliar shore. But Zeal wasn’t done. He came down on her like a meteor, slamming into her hastily constructed guard from the sky. The island was no more, and the pummeling continued.

“Miss Solace!” a soldier announced, coming up behind the woman.

“What’s up?” she asked, turning away from the battle.

“Are we holding?”

“Yeah, don’t capture anything else. Zeal is beating the shit out of a god. Once he’s done, we’ll start the training camp.”

“Should I prepare an area?”

Solace sighed, feeling her heart flutter as she watched Zeal do his work. Every time he did something stupid like this, she remembered why she had followed him through the monolith. She’d do it again, and again if need be. Always into the breach without regard for himself. She’d always be there to back him up.

“Make it big,” Solace said. “This lady has some potential. Once she learns how to use her water powers, anyway.”

“Understood.”

Kicking off against the ground, Solace made a line straight for this realm’s throne. She found where the energies of the world were focused and shook her head. Along the coastline was a massive city, filled with true souls. She tried not to upset the local population, but that was almost impossible. Everyone gave her a look as though she was a demon… A four-foot tall demon. With absolutely none of the cat-people able to stop her, she entered the throne room and marveled at its opulence.

“Her water theming isn’t even that good,” Solace grumbled, casting her gaze over a few fountains. “I’d take the entire city underwater.”

Solace approached the Liquid Throne. It hadn’t existed during the war. During that time, they were discovering godly realms by the day and it seemed anyone of power in Iaredin was happy to take one. When Leon discovered the Elderling Realms, everything changed for the worse. A wave of comfort washed through her as a familiar presence came alongside.

Solace was quick to pivot, taking a knee. “My lady.”

The sound of the Lady’s laugh was musical. “Oh, you’re always so dramatic,” she said. “Looks like things are going well.”

“If I might ask, how did you get through the field?” Solace asked. “I thought you were restricted.”

“I live in the hearts of the warriors, for now,” the Lady said. “I just wanted to check how you were doing. Excellent work, by the way.”

“When will you plant the Elderling Seed?” Solace asked. She couldn’t help herself. The Lady was in a good mood.

“Right when the field drops. Now, get back to work. You have ten realms to get ready for war. And Leon will need my warriors when the barrier is gone.”

“Yes, my lady,” Solace said.

***

Howd cursed, tumbling onto the forest floor and bonking his head on a root. “Damn this infernal planet!”

Of the many warriors back on Earth who had elected to stay on Iaredin, he wasn’t one. Howd had enjoyed a pleasant life, going back between his home and the fantasy world on a daily basis. Back then, he was living with his mom and dad, spending his days in school without a care in the world. Now he was some arcwizard, leading an army through a world that could only be described as ‘darker than anything really should’ve been, because come on.’ It didn’t help that his legs were so stumpy.

“Shall I summon the Lady’s light?” Cakes asked.

Howd turned, narrowing his eyes at the shape he assumed represented his companion. His expression softened for a moment. The man had given up his life on Earth for a reason similar to most of the others. His body was broken, meaning he was bed-bound for most of his life. Whatever light he had in those times was dim, but giving up his body for a massive, able-bodied vulbet was like the sun.

“We’re trying to be stealth!” Howd shouted, breaking out of his memories and returning to Shadow’s damnable realm.

“Hard to be stealthy when you’re constantly screaming.”

“I just hate the dark!” Howd shouted again. Once he had calmed down enough, he summoned his special little screen.

[Shadow’s Domain]

Defenders: 80,000 (Rank 10 Average)

Attackers: 200 (Rank 15 Average)

Energy: 10%

Anchors: 500 (250 captured)

Domain Strength: Withered

Elrin was going to kick Howd’s ass. He knew it. They were supposed to assault the realm, doing a bit of damage before teaching Shadow a lesson. But when the warriors arrived, they were met with an impossible force. The mage had been forced to drop a city-sized fireball on the defenders, and the fighting had only increased from there. Thanks to the time-dilation Shadow had employed, they were given the unenviable task of fighting for every inch of land over the past two months.

Now they were hunting the slippery god who sunk into the shadows every time they were close. Not only was it really annoying, but it was also boring. Every time Howd used a tracking spell, the dude was gone. It was like trying to catch steam in a fishing net.

“How are we supposed to beat the snot out of this guy if we can’t catch him?” Howd grumbled.

“Doesn’t that mean he’s prepared for an attack?” Cakes asked.

“No! Because come on. We brought 200 dudes…”

“And dudettes,” Cakes corrected.

“We brought 200 dudes and dudettes. Imagine what kind of army the wider universe is gonna bring. Any god interested in what’s going on in our corner is gonna be like ‘Oh, hey. Fruit ripe for the picking. Yum yum!’ Is that what you want to happen?”

“Meh.”

“Oh, I hate you so much.”

“There he is,” Cakes said, waving his hand. A field of light sprung up around them in an instant, spreading for miles in every direction. Chains of gold sprung from the ground, wrapping around a shadowy figure a few hundred feet before them. The spell revealed the dense forest, trees packed tightly together granting no view of the sky above. “Figured if I talked about the wider universe he’d come in for a sniff.”

“You’re a genius!” Howd shouted. “See? That’s why I love you.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

The duo trudged through the forest, finally finding their way to the clearing where the master of the realm was detained. Shadow looked like his namesake. Howd had truly expected to see what was left of his human form, but there was nothing. Instead, Shadow was an amalgamation of living shadows, bound by the chains and swirling on the spot.

“Howdy. So, here’s the deal,” Howd said, folding his arms.

“Which god backs you?” Shadow asked, ignoring Howd entirely.

“Huh?” Howd asked, looking to Cakes for guidance. The big guy just shrugged.

“The system’s support isn’t enough to allow for such an attack,” Shadow stated. “You’re seething with heavenly energy far above anything we could produce.”

“Way to reveal you’re not from our time,” Howd said with a laugh. “Anyway, yeah. We’re under the command of the Lady of Light.”

“Who?”

“See, why did I bother explaining it if you’re just gonna be an ass?” Howd asked. “She’s the native god of Iaredin. Singular god, which means she’s strong as hell and also pretty hot.”

“She’s more like a motherly figure,” Cakes corrected. “I wouldn’t call her ‘hot.’”

“Way to steal my thunder,” Howd growled. “Anyway, we’re here to strengthen your world.”

“By attacking it?” Shadow asked. “You have an interesting way of providing support.”

“Yeah, first we gotta knock you down, then we’ll pick you up. The Lady wants to be sure you guys aren’t just half-assing it. She needs to know you’ve got skin in the game, got it?”

“Release me,” Shadow demanded.

“Absolutely not,” Cakes said. “Come on. We’re going to your throne room.”

“I don’t have one,” Shadow said. “My world is designed to ensnare any attackers.”

Howd shared a look with Cakes. They were thinking the same thing, he knew it. “This ain’t your true form, is it?”

“Damn. Paranoid much?” Cakes asked.

Shadow’s laugh echoed through the forest, seeming to come from every direction at once. Howd extended his magical senses, almost laughing when he finally felt it. Shadow didn’t have a physical form, because his form was the darkness itself. He had been sure the owner of a realm had to have some corporeal form, but the madman had transcended that. Elrin had ranked all the gods, placing Shadow in the number 2 spot. It was hard not to wonder if this guy’s power was closer to that of Death, or perhaps even the Lady herself.

“Okay. Now you have my attention, you weird shadow-person,” Howd said. “We were supposed to beat you up and force you to train your celestial magic. But how about we do this the nice way?”

“I’ve been dabbling for the past thousand years,” Shadow responded with a laugh. “Let it never be said that Shadow does not look out for the interests of the local sector.”

“So, do you want to learn?” Cakes asked.

“Are you a good teacher?”

“Yeah, I’m just about the best next to Meya,” Howd said. “How else do you think we’ve all been training in secret time-dilated worlds for sixty-thousand years?”

“A fair point. Fine, I’m ready to learn,” Shadow said. “But be warned: this won’t be easy for either party.”

“Yeah. I can see that,” Howd said. “Now, let’s start with the stuff you’re good at. Shadow world? Love it. More of that. Undefended World Anchors? Nope, not good. I hate it.”

“Distill your wisdom for me, great pudgy one,” Shadow said. “And I shall listen.”

Cakes snorted a laugh.

***

[Death’s Domain]

Defenders: 500 (Rank 10 Average)

Attackers: 1 (Rank 20 Average)

Energy: 0%

Anchors: 1000 (1000 captured)

Domain Strength: Breaking

Sending a message was important. That’s something Meya had learned back during the war. When she had straddled two worlds, the one thing she was most afraid of was a lack of control. She couldn’t keep her friends safe, and she couldn’t stop what happened in Boston. But thanks to Elrin’s plan, she was able to exact a tiny bit of revenge.

When Death had sent his construct defenders to hold the anchors, Meya’s first impression was that he had done a good job of preparing his realm. Unfortunately, they suffered the same problem she predicted for all the realms. He had infused them with a lot of power, but failed to give them practical experience. Not that they could’ve done much against her, but still.

Death’s realm was a long road, which was an excellent concept for defense. It wasn’t like a normal spherical planet, but instead just stretched on for what felt like forever. Along the way were lighthouses meant to guide the souls of the dead toward the gate. There, Death would determine their fate. There were many lost souls in the forest along the cobblestone path, and even more now that the lighthouses were dim.

Meya adjusted the straps of her armor, ensuring all the evolving gear was in place. She wasn’t sure if Death would even get a hit in on her, but there was nothing wrong with being prepared. Looming in the distance was the gate, glowing green and sucking in the surrounding mana. No matter how this exchange went, the gate had to stay. While it was a bitter pill to swallow, Death had to remain at his post.

Meya took the last few steps, approaching the gate and spotting a familiar black-haired figure at the base of the skyscraper-sized gate. He turned, flashing an amused grin.

“Are you happy, Meya?” Death asked. “Did you get it all out of your system?”

Meya balled her fists, the leather of her gloves groaning. “Not quite yet.”

Death held his arms out. He was unarmed and offered himself up as though that would make her feel better. It wouldn’t. “Take your best shot. I’ll give you the first few for free.”

Meya barked a laugh, unable to stop herself. “You might think you have it all figured out, but you don’t. Everyone has been dancing to his tune this entire time. You’re no different.”

“That might be, but my realm was prepared. Wasn’t it?”

There were no defenders left alive near the gate. The trail of constructed corpses she had left along the road were proof that Death’s realm wasn’t ready. “You were more prepared than most, but not prepared enough. I’ll skip to the end, if you don’t mind.”

“Please. I’m quite busy.”

“I’m going to teach you how to use primordial magic to make yourself stronger,” Meya said. “But first, I’m going to beat the shit out of you until you feel the pull of the gate on your neck.”

“Oh, my. That gave me chills,” Death said. “Before we get started, you understand why I did what I did. Don’t you?”

Meya nodded. “I’m aware that your soul was being manipulated by the System. I know that when you came to your senses, you stopped the attack. And I know that you see this as your penance. Every soul that has passed through the gate under your command has been taken care of.”

“Excellent,” Death said, shrugging off his cloak. “Teach me how strong you’ve become.”

Death sucked in a lungful of air, blinking rapidly. He looked down at his pale skin, finding it closer to what he remembered from life… It took him a moment to adjust, but he let out a breath as tears came to the corners of his eyes. No matter how much he thought he knew about the way power worked in this universe, he was like a child compared to true power. People relied on training wheels when they leveled. Kuzan was no different. He had gathered a lot of power for himself by using the souls of the dead. But true power didn’t come from levels or souls; it came from a cultivation of the body, mind, and spirit.

In that regard, he was weak.

“Where are we?” Death asked, looking around the familiar forests.

“Your brain is shit,” Meya said. “This is how you remember Pera’tal, during the construction of the first city. Those are your people.”

“We’re not really here, are we?” Death asked, swallowing hard.

“Wow, is that fear I feel?” Meya asked with a laugh. “Damn, if I could’ve made you feel this back in the day, I’d be so happy right now. Instead, I’m sad. Because you’re weak.”

“I don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“When a person is born with a system, they become reliant on it. We’ve segmented tiers of power into ranks,” Meya said. “You’re using the old system from Iaredin, something like a version 1, compared to the current version 150. But no matter what system a person uses, they’re borrowing power.”

Death took a few tentative steps, the grass crunching under his feet. Meya was particularly happy with this illusion. It wasn’t even her strongest area of expertise, but she was satisfied with how this one was going.

“You’ll teach me how to harness this power?”

“Yep. Not only that, but I’ll teach you how to infuse this power in your realm,” Meya said. “The first step is to sense the celestial energies. This is a trick I learned back on Earth, actually. Back when that bastard ruined it for everyone.”

“Now that’s a tale I’d like to hear,” Death said, still marveling at his old home. “Could we train here?”

Meya couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I beat you without moving a muscle. Thought this would make me feel better about myself. Instead, I’m just reminded of how pathetic you are. There’s only one elf in your line I respect… Well, maybe two. Speaking of, I’ll need you to grab two souls from the gate. Might as well train all three at once.”

“Oh, my. I didn’t predict you would be the one to resurrect Armel and Silvain.”

“Leon needs them,” Meya said, shaking her head. “I hate them both.”

“So selfless… Well, let’s get started.”

***

[Fate and Omen’s Domain]

Defenders: 0 (No Rank)

Attackers: 200 (Rank 15 Average)

Energy: 100%

Anchors: 10 (10 captured)

Domain Strength: Thriving

Jan stepped over a particularly large log, slipping on a patch of wet moss on the other side. He cursed, casting his eyes over the forest around him. Looking upon the empty realm of Fate made his heart sink. He remembered their first encounter and smiled. Getting his arm snapped by an 8-year-old was amusing in hindsight, but during the time he wasn’t in a good place.

Twist cursed, slipping on the same patch of moss as he had. “A little warning next time!”

“Sorry. I was thinking about Aline and her brother,” Jan said.

“Oh, we’re using her real name now?” Twist asked, laughing. But he slipped again, falling on his ass.

“She’s a clever girl,” Jan said. “Which is why there are no defenders here.”

“Yeah, little brat saw this coming, didn’t she?” Twist asked. “Should’ve figured… Where are the thrones, anyway?”

“The twin thrones should be up ahead,” Jan said, pointing forward with his chin. “If they haven’t moved them, they’ll just be in the forest.”

No one would have expected the realm of a god who could predict the future to be empty. This was a power play by the realm’s owners. And sure enough, as they approached the stone stairs, leading to a platform containing the two thrones, they found it empty. Jan worked his way up the stairs, placing his hand on the Throne of Fate. He scoffed as the system prompt appeared.

[Throne of Fate]

Do you wish to claim the throne of fate? Warning: you must defend this throne for a set time before you can ascend to godhood.

“We can just claim the throne,” Jan said, shaking his head. “The Throne of Omen is the same.”

“So, Fate and Omen just left their realm undefended, because they know we don’t want to run a godly realm,” Twist said. “Well, they’re right. I need to manage a realm like I need another hole in my head.”

Jan didn’t know how he was supposed to train Fate and Omen if they weren’t here. They couldn’t even do anything to strengthen the realm. This put them in an unenviable position. Elrin wasn’t going to be happy, even if he had a soft spot for Fate.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Twist asked. “Smash the place up a bit?”

“I think Elrin saw this coming. We’re not nearly as powerful as the other warriors,” Jan said, scratching his chin. “He expected Fate to leave the realm empty. This might just be training for the troops.”

“So, what do we do?”

Jan looked back. The soldiers he had been given were fanning out, looking for any tricks. Instead, he had a decent plan. This wasn’t the ideal outcome, but he could put them through their paces. “Time for some training of our own, I guess. We’re both horrible at manipulating the primordial energies, so why not start?”

“Time dilation training? That’s my favorite,” Twist laughed. “Okay, troops! Time to do a lot of marching!”

***

Elrin watched from the System’s vantage point, rubbing his chin as he watched the troops. A smile spread across his face, remembering the way things had gone the first time they had assembled. The Defense of Perisart Forest wasn’t a disaster, but compared to the organization they had now, it was a sad attempt. He didn’t even have cannons this time… Not that his juiced-up fighters needed them.

“Are you satisfied?” the System asked.

“I am,” Elrin said with a shrug. “Didn’t mean to piss you off this much.”

“I’m not angry.”

“You sound angry.”

“I was never meant to be in this form for this long,” she said. “The longer I’m like this, the more… mortal I feel. I’ve only got a few weeks left.”

“Oh, just leave the rest to me,” Elrin said with a laugh. “You can totally trust me.”

Although the expression on her face didn’t change, the System locked her gaze onto him with a withering stare. “I’d rather not. But you people keep pushing this out further. I’m considering a hard deadline.”

Elrin shrugged. “Just a few more shards to put in place. Now that the gods have been brought to heel, I don’t have much else to do.”

It was hard not to think about it. When did the system get so weak? The System’s power was a measure of the sector’s strength. That was Elrin’s theory, anyway. She wouldn’t admit anything about what she was or how weak or strong she was. It was a mystery ‌he didn’t plan to figure out before he took his next step. He faced a decision many others would come up against in the coming days.

Could he forgive Leon for the sake of the sector?

Elrin smiled to himself. He wouldn’t have much time to think about that… Not with the coming storm.