Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Erick stepped from the twilight of Spur onto a dark, grassy hill, lit by stars, the moons, and a far off glow on another high hill, and another, and another. All around Erick, every hill on the surrounding endless prairie was topped with stone towers, some small and singular atop their hill, some large and crowded, with peaks and raised porches, every one of them looking like organized piles of legos, or stone trees. Sunlightwards glowed in the air around the bases of those towers and on streets of muddy dirt that connected one hill to the next. Men and women in armor poked up here and there among the crenelations, like birds in stone trees, each of them holding spears, watching the night. Several of them watched Yetta and Erick and their whole party as they arrived on the grassland.

Erick would never have seen any of that without [Ultrasight]; he needed to level all of that up to [Hunter's Instincts] as soon as possible.

A cold wind blew across his small party, snaking into Erick’s loose desert attire, bringing with it the smell of freshly tilled dirt, and the whispering night. People in those stone trees were up and awake; some talking about war, some talking about food. Erick would have listened more, but Yetta, dressed in nicer yellow leather armor than what Erick remembered, and Jane, in her midnight [Conjure Armor], were both looking at Ophiel on Erick’s shoulder.

Yetta tore her eyes away from the winged, eyed creature, saying, “Welcome to Odaali-in-Exile, Archmage Flatt.” Her voice was strong. “We will be having a small get together with the appropriate people, like I explained, if you do not mind.”

“I’m good for anything,” Erick said.

Yetta nodded, saying, “Thank you.” Yetta glanced at Erick’s clothing. She said nothing. “If you would follow me.” She began walking down the hill.

Erick tugged at his clothes. What was wrong with them? Sure, they weren’t the nicest things he owned, but they weren’t farm-clothes. Who was he meeting, anyway? Army people? They shouldn’t care.

Yetta began walking down the hill.

Erick followed Yetta down the hill to a dirt road nestled between the grasses of the prairie, casually surrounded by Teressa, Poi, and Rats; they were forming a perimeter around him. Erick felt a bit nervous at needing to be surrounded by guards, but Jane walked at his side, and that made him feel better. When they got to the dirt road, Yetta turned on her [Cleanse Aura], turning tiny bits of the land here and there into thick air. Now why was she doing that? Erick felt a bit more nervous than before, guessing that Yetta was protecting them from stray killing clouds of dead air; this must be why all the buildings were on top of hills, on top of towers.

Erick quietly asked Jane, “How’s it been?”

Jane sent, ‘We’re being watched.’

‘Well duh. How bad is it?’

‘Not that bad. I’ve already caught people testing my ability to find them sneaking into my rooms; [Greater Shadowalk] has a lot of new applications; I’m still learning. I don’t think the spies are a problem, but they are annoying. And what the hell is that thing on your shoulder?’

Eyes had blinked open everywhere across Ophiel’s tiny body; the little guy was taking in sights from everywhere. He watched as Yetta’s thick air played in the wind flowing across the grassland. He extended his wings, feeling the sky move around his little place in the world.

Erick sent her an image of Ophiel’s blue box, sending, ‘I made my [Familiar].’

Jane read the spell description, sending, ‘You made a damned angel, Dad. What the hell!’

‘Veirdly angels are people, Jane. Ophiel won’t be mistaken for an angel here, at all.’

‘You know what I mean!’

'Yes, I do.'

Erick smiled as their group reached a stretch of the dirt road that was different than what came before, it was slightly darker. Yetta’s [Cleanse Aura] billowed thick wind everywhere. What had just happened?

Erick didn’t have much time to ponder that, though. No one seemed nervous except for him, and Ophiel tittered; kneading Erick’s shoulder with its wings, touching Erick with a tendril of [Telepathy], asking a wordless question about flying.

Erick sent back, ‘No. You have to stay here with me. You can go flying later.’

Ophiel seemed to focus on their surroundings, his wings folding down against his sides. Maybe he had picked up on Erick’s nervousness. Ah. That wasn’t good. Erick wanted a strong [Familiar]; he tried to put on a stronger persona, standing up straighter. Ophiel seemed to stand taller on his shoulder, following Erick’s example.

Jane sent, ‘It’s not a real angel, is it?’

‘It’s not a real anything; just a mana construct. That was Sizzi’s opinion, anyway, and I’m starting to think so, too. It’s starting to pick up small mannerisms, but they’re only the mannerisms I expect it to have.’

Jane looked at Ophiel, sending, ‘I hope it helps keep you out of danger.’

‘We’re all in danger, all the time, Jane. Ophiel here will help me survive it.’

Jane smiled a little, as she looked out into the night.

Erick changed the subject by asking Yetta, “Why the [Cleanse Aura]? Are we that close to the front lines?”

Yetta said, “There’s no sewer system here; all of this went up three weeks ago, and it’s constantly being expanded.”

“… Oh.” Erick looked at the brown dirt path. “Want me to [Stoneshape] this path to raised stone?”

“No. I want this place to be as temporary as possible. I would have preferred huts.” Yetta said, “But some people have different ideas of what is necessary.” She pointed to a hill two hills away, to a taller tower than most crowded with a small, ornate palace on top. White stone shimmered under brilliant light orbs; warm lights pouring up and out of an interior courtyard, coloring the night sunlight-yellow. A mishmash of towers ringed the central, unseen courtyard. “Duchess Wilhelmina Dominair and Duke Cyril Odaali are waiting for us in the Temporary Palace, along with several other important people, as I explained.” She glanced back. “I have to ask: What is that thing on your shoulder?”

“A [Familiar].” Erick said, “I made him six hours ago, so he’s still learning.”

Erick suddenly remembered that he still had learning to do, too; he had gotten quite a few points from leveling off of the yellow wyrm. He allocated 10 points into Willpower, in preparation for an expensive battle to come.

Erick Flatt

Human, age 48

Level 45, Class: Particle Mage

Exp: 41,094,128,156/183,631,190,300

Class: 6/6

Points: 6

HP

1020/1020

1020 per day

MP

3240/3840

15,360 per day

Strength

20

+14

[34]

Vitality

20

+14

[34]

Willpower

50

+14

[64]

Focus

50

+14

[64]

Favored Spell waiting!

As his mana ticked up and his two All-Stat rings remained at 8 and 6, a gentle feeling of expansion sunk into his soul. The night seemed a bit brighter; a bit warmer. Like something inside of him had ticked one more measure toward balance. Erick smiled as he touched Ophiel’s wings. The little guy wasn’t quite as stiff as the last time Erick petted him; he pushed into Erick’s touch, like a dog enjoying a pat.

Erick asked Yetta, “Will I be expected to speak?”

Yetta answered without turning, “A little. I suspect most people are sticking around this late just to get a glimpse of you, or maybe to talk, and then they’ll start heading home.”

Erick suddenly said, “I’m sorry, Yetta. I did not think that Ar’Kendrithyst would be that dangerous.”

Yetta kept her face forward. She walked in silence for a little while, but eventually said, “I know you didn't think it would.” She sighed, then said, “But you’re here now, and we will take back my home.”

Erick said, “Of course. It will be done, and it will be done swiftly.”

Yetta stared forward, saying, “I hope so.”

Erick sent to Poi, ‘How are we doing?’

‘Good so far.’ Poi walked beside Erick, sending, ‘People are watching and there’s at least two invisible people around us, trailing our path, but they don’t seem to be hostile.’

Erick kept a straight face, and sent, ‘See? I can keep a straight face.’

‘Very good, sir,’ Poi sent, a hint of amusement to his thoughts.

As they approached the white tower, the gentle sounds of music carried on the wind. Ophiel perked up; Erick told him to settle down. The sounds of violins, cellos, flutes, and smaller voices carried on the air, growing stronger as Erick walked up to the white stone-tree tower palace.

Yetta led the way to a three-meter wide staircase that wound around the base of the tower. Two men in white armor stood at the base; they stood straighter as Yetta stepped up the dirt path, coming toward them, and the palace. Yetta paid no attention to the guards; she started right up the curving, white staircase.

Erick, Jane, Poi, Rats, and Teressa, followed; dirt knocking off of their boots as they ascended behind Yetta. The path circled the tower, flowing up into the center, past murder holes and through open stone gates, into a space of stone and light; a castle courtyard a hundred feet in the air, complete with small fountains, gentle voices, and a get-together already waiting for Erick and his people.

A small band played to the left of the staircase, scattering music into the air. Ophiel hugged onto Erick’s shoulder, seemingly excited at the music and at everyone, a dozen eyes fully open and flipping around to stare at everything and every person. Erick felt like his inner child was sitting upon his shoulder; he too, felt excited at the prospect of visiting kings and queens. It didn’t really matter that an assassin who tried to kill him was linked to these people; Erick felt nervous and giddy all at once.

Past the landing at the top of the stairs began an open-air veranda-courtyard, filled with sunlight orbs. It was a space large enough for a hundred people, and there were at least that many in attendance. Humans filled the space, from pale to dark, blond to black, they were all dressed in fine suits or fine dresses. Jewelry sparkled in the light. Some wore polished armors with dress swords or maybe real swords at their hips. Wine glasses abounded; some were drinking dark red, others drinking a pale sparkling yellow. People spoke under arches to the side of the courtyard, or around standing tables here and there. The music did not stop at Yetta’s entrance, but several people turned Yetta’s way, to look at Erick and his entourage.

A guard— No. A butler, in black and white, just to the side of the entrance, asked, “Your bags?”

Teressa said, “We can do that ourselves; just point the way.” She turned to Erick, whispering, “I’ll take yours and Poi’s.”

Poi was already handing Teressa his pack. Erick did the same. People at the party were glancing at him, while some openly stared. Teressa and Rats vacated down a side hallway, away from the party, Rats giving one last glance toward Erick that seemed full of ‘I’m glad I’m not going into that’.

And just like that, Erick’s party was down to just Jane and Poi. Yetta was already stepping into the party, but she stopped short, seven feet from Erick. Cyril, decked out in white and gold clothes more expensive-looking than usual, was standing up from a table nearby, set up at the top of a tier of the slightly stepped courtyard. He walked toward Yetta. At his side at the table had been a woman similarly expensively attired, but done up in green. Emeralds and gold lined her brown hair and her thick-fabric regency dress. She looked twice Cyril’s age; maybe even older than Erick. The woman strolled alongside Cyril, toward Yetta and Erick.

The music ceased, as Cyril and the woman stepped to what was probably an appropriate distance from Yetta. The entire gathering was looking their way.

Yetta announced to the rapt audience, “Presenting Archmage Erick Flatt, planar human, here to assist in the assault on the devils inhabiting our homes; to kill those who created the abominable Daydropper.”

Yetta yielded the floor to Erick as all eyes turned on him.

Erick was still processing if Yetta had just roped him into killing people, as he said, “[Withering] will not work through a [Weather Ward]. If someone has set up [Weather Ward]s, someone else will need to pop them. The spell will target anyone and anything with a rad inside, so if you have intestinal rads you should not be a part of the assault. If there is no 10 mana rad inside of a person, or a monster, then the spell does nothing.” He added, “I hope rebuilding after this tragedy goes well for everyone.”

Several small claps passed around the late-evening party.

The music started up again, and with a bit of [Perfect Hearing], Erick heard some of the conversations that resumed; they were about him. But the woman in green and Cyril were stepping closer, and he could not listen to the wagging tongues of others any longer. Poi was at Erick’s back, Jane was at his side, and that was a good enough security blanket as he was going to get in this strange land.

In a speaking voice, Yetta personally introduced, “Crown Prince Cyril Odaali, and his grandmother, Duchess Wilhelmina Dominair, Lady of the High Court, eighth cousin of the Viridian King, his Majesty Drundi Raivo.” She remained where she stood.

Cyril said, “Welcome to the Greensoil Republic, Archmage Erick Flatt.”

Erick sent to Poi, ‘Is it proper to bow, here?’

‘I would never bow to these people.’

Wow! Okay, Poi. Erick wasn’t going to get any help from him, so he just said, “Thank you for having me.”

Yetta put forth, “I would like to discuss the battle plan for tomorrow. Now.” She added, “Where is Captain Denarth?”

“Yetta.” Cyril tried, “The battle isn’t starting until the day after tomorrow.”

“Cyril.” Yetta countered, “We could start right now, in the middle of this night, if we wanted. Do you think we need the whole of the armies, now that we have the ability to desiccate the Queen Vine out from the center of Odaali? We do not.”

Erick said, “I would like to know exactly what I’m facing, please. But yes; if everyone is ready, we could go now. Fly in and drop [Withering Slime]s on the city.”

Yetta’s face went from motionless-anger, to a righteous smirk.

Cyril said, “I wish it were that simple.”

Yetta countered, “We worked hard for this, Cyril. It might be.”

Wilhelmina ignored Yetta, and spoke to Erick, her voice husky, “We have all seen the validity of your power, dear Archmage, via our ever-patriotic Viscount Helix of Frontier, but if power was all that was needed, then we would have been able to oust the interlopers from Odaali ourselves.” She explained, “Undead of all kinds have infested Odaali from tunnels to towers, while the rank and file of the Halls of the Dead maintain and [Grow] the Queen Vine with the bodies of our own former citizens, binding ever more souls and ever more power to the Queen Vine itself. The Queen Vine started displaying spellcasting ability days after the destruction of our people, and it has only grown in power since then.”

Yetta said, “This is why we should gather our forces now and strike while the Queen Vine sleeps, while they’re still expecting us to attack in two days.”

Wilhelmina shook her head, saying, “Champion Yetta is a force of nature, and you might be too, Archmage Flatt, but we are fighting a force of nature, and caution is better than discarded chances for surprise.” She said, “Yetta and we have two other archmages bargained for the battle, each with great magic of their own. I do not fear, but I do certainly know, that it will take every one of you and all of our armies combined to take down this creature and the people feeding her.”

Yetta sighed, then looked to the sky, right before blipping away in yellow light.

Wilhelmina frowned at the empty space, but turned toward Erick with a smile, saying, “A pleasure to meet you, Archmage.” She gestured to the rest of the people on the veranda, saying, “I would love to introduce you to some of the other guests, if you are willing?”

Erick looked out at the people at the party, and an echo of the party he threw a few weeks ago came back to him; he could ask these people about trades for gems, or services, or try to entice them to come to Spur to kill more Shades… But. Erick had never expected the Champion to run into any trouble at all. Honestly, he should have expected deaths. He was shortsighted and naive, and Melemizargo was beyond anything Erick could ever hope to do, or at least anything Erick could hope to do right now.

He would have to leave politicking for the deaths of Shades for another day; one where Odaali was firmly on its feet, and able to be a tight friend to Spur.

Erick said, “Thank you, but I must decline. I would much rather know who you are, who Cyril is, and what the Greensoil Republic actually is. I have read up some, but there’s just so much to learn, you know.” Erick joked, “Just a month ago, I got out from under the impression that monsters could be reasoned with.”

Wilhelmina smirked, and there was no doubt in Erick’s mind that her smirk was the calculated visage of a very powerful woman. Wilhelmina gracefully gestured to the high table, where she and Cyril had been sitting. “Then please join Cyril and I, where we may speak about our Great Republic.”

She walked to her chair; Erick walked with her, “Yetta said that this whole place is only a few weeks old? It looks rather well made for that.”

“It is well made; formed by the expertise and power of many Stone Mages.” Wilhelmina touched a chair next to her own, before sitting down. “With all the carrion eaters circling the corpse of my homeland, one must bribe them off with a show of power and goodwill, lest one be eaten alive by one’s own countrymen.”

Erick suddenly paused, but he sat down in his chair anyway, as Wilhelmina twirled a hand through the air. Two servers in butler-black rapidly and perfectly delivered one wineglass to Erick, as well as refilled Wilhelmina’s glass with a sparkling red wine, then filled Erick’s glass with the same.

Erick smiled. He liked this openess of Wilhelmina's, even if it was a calculated manner.

Erick said, “I truly do hope that rebuilding goes well for your people, but I would be remiss to blindly hope for the success of people who have tried to have me killed.”

Wilhelmina held up her glass, smiling to say, “Then, a toast: To reconciliation.”

Erick raised his own glass, repeating, “To reconciliation.”

She sipped hers first, and only then, did Erick drink. It tasted like wine.

Wilhelmina said, “I have been made aware of the events surrounding your run in with the Green Circle, and the Viridian King apologizes for the overzealous actions of his people. There’s no excuse but that we thought you were a threat. A while has passed since then, though, and it appears you were telling the truth about who you are as a person.” She added, “If you are willing to leave the past in the past, then we would be grateful for such forgiveness.”

Erick smiled softly. He changed the topic, “I’ve just gone on my first wyrm hunt, and that was an eye opener, as well. How do you prevent wyrm attacks in your Republic? I’ve heard it's much more densely populated than the Crystal Forest.”

Wilhelmina smiled, gesturing to Cyril who had sat down beside her, saying, “Adventurers like my grandson here are the ones responsible for keeping the northern barriers intact. Odaali has had a long history of supplying men and women and sustenance for the frontlines. All that has stopped, for now. The Greensoil Republic must survive without us, and likely for a decade or more. This destruction by the Halls of the Dead will have heavy, longstanding problems, that we won't know are coming until they are upon us.”

Erick felt a pang of loss as he looked out over the crowds, while Wilhelmina spoke. The people in the crowds were not dressed in perfect finery; Wilhelmina was, for sure, but there were little things among the crowd that gave away the truth of this gathering. Jewelry on one woman was not matched to the man she was with, or the clothes she was wearing. The sword on one man’s hip had an ornate jeweled grip, but the sheath was bare wood. And most telling, everyone seemed to be wearing more clothes than they likely needed; all the people were all exceedingly skinny. A great deal of them looked as skinny as Cyril, and Erick knew what Cyril had gone through.

He looked upon the tables, at the plates holding tiny finger foods that had been dispersed throughout the event; many of them were empty. The waiters in butler-black were not replacing them fast enough, or maybe they couldn’t.

Erick whispered, “Do you all have enough food?”

Wilhelmina asked, “Would you like to sample some of the local delicacies?”

“No. I mean—” Erick paused. He said, “Everyone here is rather skinny, and you just said that you supplied sustenance to the front lines. Was Odaali a breadbasket of the area?”

Wilhelmina said, “We are not destitute, Archmage. Yes, there have been hard times, but we will survive.”

“I apologize. Forget I mentioned it.” Erick sipped his wine. “This is a lovely vintage.”

Wilhelmina frowned a fraction, then schooled her expression to neutral as she looked at Erick, silent and thinking.

Erick was fully aware that she expected him to offer assistance on his own, but if she wasn't willing to ask for it, Erick wasn't willing to offer it for free. To do otherwise would start a dangerous precedent when it came to people in power; people like Wilhelmina.

Erick sipped his wine, looking across the party, [Perfect Hearing] telling him many small tales. Of scattered battles with the Halls off the Dead. Of burned fields, seeded with daydroppers and undead. Of a new spell developed by the Halls of the Dead, that corrupts the land and inhibits the growth of any other plants at all. Of disastrous food shortages.

Erick asked, “What’s this spell that corrupts the land do, exactly?”

Cyril answered, “It doesn’t corrupt; it picks up the topsoil in a large area and [Teleport]s it to a location.”

“Ooh.” Erick said, “That’s devious.”

Cyril asked, “And to answer your previous question: We do not have enough food—”

Wilhelmina shot her grandson a pointed look.

“—and would appreciate your assistance in this matter, once the city has been retaken and the Halls of the Dead have been delivered to their makers.” Cyril continued, “Personally, I would like to have you start the rain right now, if you are able. We already have a starter field tilled and prepared, hoping that you would see our plight and step up to the cause.” He added, “I am glad that it only took seeing our best, to see that we are actually very deep in the shit.”

“Cyril.” Wilhelmina whispered, “You are making mountains out of hills. Odaali is not that poor, nor are we weak enough to need handouts. We have bargained for our successes; we are not beggars.”

Cyril turned away to look at the party, saying, “As you say, Grandmother.”

“I still want to help,” Erick said, “Let’s go see those fields.”

Cyril stood right up. “I would love to.”

Erick stood up, smiling.

Wilhelmina brushed a hand through the air, saying, “Then I suppose tonight is over.” She stood up, saying, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Archmage.”

Cyril was already walking away from the party.

Erick said, “A pleasure to meet you as well, Duchess.”

Erick got out of there as fast as he could, but not fast enough to get away before people could start talking about him, and dissecting his manners. Apparently, he was a ‘certifiable bumpkin’, and ‘not fit for court’, but also ‘that’s how those adventuring types are; completely unwilling to play the game’. Poi and Jane followed Erick, following Cyril, Jane giggling ever so slightly, as they walked down a white stone hallway, away from the party.

- - - -

Dozens of spotlights filled the sky, turning night into day, illuminating a vast field of tilled, dark soil, waterways, roads, and storage sheds, all around Erick and the people who brought him out here.

Yetta had come back from wherever she had gone and now stood by Cyril, who stood by the farmers at the edge of the field. Everyone, and even Yetta a little, was skinny, like they hadn’t gotten enough food for a while. Erick felt bad about this whole situation, now that he saw the problem laid out before him like this. Even if they were a part of some conspiracy, if people chose to appear before him in pain, Erick would help.

… Erick was not paranoid; he was simply open-eyed. There’s no way that they made these fields in the five minutes it took to get here.

Poi and Jane stood around Erick, watching the land and the people and the sky for threats. Erick consoled himself that a bit of paranoia was a good thing; there were people out there who wanted to kill everyone here. The Halls of the Dead were just the most prominent local threat.

Erick linked telepathically to Ophiel, still on his shoulder, who had been watching everything, and who was staring at the wind in the sky above. Erick explained to his [Familiar] what he was prepared to do, and to learn that this was going to be one of his main responsibilities.

Ophiel seemed playful, pawing at Erick’s shoulder with tiny claws hidden in his lower wings. Erick let him go and he shot off into the air with a gusting wind, guided by gentle mental nudges. One moment flashed into the next, and Ophiel expanded, two dozen wings, a hundred eyes, flying high and free, echoing the music it heard at the party, violins and flutes mixed together in some alien way, quiet but carrying on the wind.

Poi relaxed, whispering, “Thank all the gods and demons; it learned some better music.”

Erick smiled, guiding Ophiel’s flight into the sky, feeling the pure joy coming off of Ophiel, as he looked around him to check on the reactions of the others.

A small smile grew wide upon Cyril’s face, his eyes softening under the harsh lights from above, his white and gold clothes shining in the night. A few farmers behind him quickly did some strange hand sign; two fingers of their right hand pressed over their hearts.

Jane whispered to Erick, “I really hope you didn’t create some actual angel, Dad.”

“Pah! He’s not an angel, Jane.” Erick looked to the sky, at Ophiel flying and spinning through the air, expanding to his full size. “I just hope he grows right and good. He’s still developing.”

With another gentle command, Ophiel hovered above the spotlights and relaxed into the air. His wings extended all around, holding him in a fluttering hover, like some starfish in the sky. Feelings of contentment flowed back to Erick; Ophiel liked existing in the sky, and if he got to do more than that, then he was even happier.

Erick imbued mana into himself, into Ophiel’s blue box, feeling for an imbueable connection that shouldn’t need direct contact; the connection was there, in the blue box. Good. Erick grabbed hold of that connection and began flowing [Ward] into Ophiel. Ophiel took the spell and fidgeted in the sky, not sure what to do with the new magic. After he played with the spell for several seconds, Erick had Ophiel put on a [Personal Weather Ward], like a father gently stuffing his fussy child into a winter jacket.

Ophiel put on the [Personal Weather Ward] without great difficulty, but feelings of oddness flowed back to Erick through his connection.

Then, Erick imbued Ophiel with [Exalted Storm Aura].

Ophiel trilled out pure joy and immediately the air filled with mist, the spotlights above catching heavy on a rising fog. A song of violin storms rose into the sky, expanding across the night, silver glows roiling upon each other, growing and growing, until platinum rain fell upon the soil.

Erick stopped feeding the spell to Ophiel and the spell stayed active; it shouldn’t have surprised Erick, but it did. Ophiel had his own mana, so of course he could maintain the spell on his own. All he needed was a copy of the spell in the first place.

“Huh.” Erick uttered.

Jane asked, “What?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Ophiel gently spun in the sky while platinum rain fell all around.

Already, wheat, yellow and bright, was coming up from the soil, while Erick, Cyril, Yetta, and everyone else stood on the road, watching Ophiel bring succor to a nation in distress.

Erick summoned another Ophiel. There was no rip in reality that inverted into a winged and eyed creature; Ophiel simply appeared in his tiny version, exactly how Erick had intended.

Briefly, there was a flicker of confusion between the two winged [Familiar]s, but the second one was the same as the first; they were just experiencing the world from two different perspectives. The original continued to hang in the air above the farms, raining platinum upon the fields. The second flitted onto Erick’s shoulder, content and happy, and now happier that it was in the air, and also on Erick’s shoulder. Ophiel seemed to like being nestled onto Erick, according to the emotions coming off of his telepathic connection.

Platinum rain fell onto the gathered people, though a few had [Personal Weather Ward]s on; like Cyril and several farmers. Yetta stepped out onto the growing grain, her face raised to the rain, a hand touching the thickening wheat. She smiled. She laughed.

The farmers around Cyril began rapidly deploying into the fields.

All around the whole of the farms the same scene was playing out; hungry people going out into the fields, gathering food, [Telekinesis] widely employed to pluck wheat right from the ground and place it in large covered wagons. At least that’s what a gentle use of Ophiel’s [Scry] ability was telling Erick; it also told him that Ophiel didn’t need to be moved, he was already in the center of the farms. But there was a problem; the farms here had been seeded and tilled in a space to rival Spur’s own fields; they were much larger than the space Ophiel was currently raining upon.

Ophiel, using his own mana, didn’t benefit from any of Erick’s other abilities, like Clarity, or Aurify’s area multiplier. Erick hummed. Erick tried to fix this. He tried to imbue Aurify into Ophiel.

Aurify didn’t go. It wouldn't go.

This was a complication.

Multiplying abilities did not work that way? Just to make sure, Erick tried to imbue Scion of Focus into Ophiel. Again, nothing; except a little whine from both the large and little guy. Erick stopped trying to imbue abilities onto him. Ophiel was already benefiting from Erick’s own MP and mana regeneration, so it was probably fine to have a 3600 mana drain per hour, when Ophiel regenerated 15,000 per hour—

Wait.

No Clarity or Meditation on Ophiel. That meant that Exalted Storm Aura would cost Ophiel 3600 mana for one hour of rain and he only had 3800 mana, but he would naturally regenerate 15000 per day, which was only 600-ish per hour, so one hour of rain was about all Ophiel could do, and he had to support himself in the sky while he did it.

Erick started channeling his own mana, and his own abilities, directly through Ophiel, flashing the rains out wide, onto the rest of the farms, to farmers waiting for their own crops to start growing under the many, many spotlightwards. Ophiel relaxed, gently feeling Erick’s mana flow through him, into the sky, his own reserves left to his own devices.

Jane popped out a [Weather Ward] across herself, Erick, and Poi, saying, “That’s enough rain on me for now. But good show, Dad.”

Cyril said, “Thank you, Archmage. This will be a great help.”

Yetta called out from the fields, “Those fuckers in Wellok can choke on their inflated prices.”

Cyril called out to her, “Trade is a part of keeping the Greensoil Republic intact, Yetta.”

Yetta threw her hand in the air at Cyril in some quick, rude gesture, then returned to feeling the rain upon her skin.

Erick said, “You made the farms too big for me to support this action all night long, but if you reduce to a kilometer across, then I can see about supporting this all day and night for a while. Right now, this is only going to last an hour. I need to sleep.”

“As you wish, Archmage.” Cyril nodded to Erick, saying, “My men need to sleep as well, but they will sleep much easier knowing there is grain to thresh and grind, and bread to bake, waiting for them tomorrow. An hour of this is more than enough, for now.” He added, "But if you can go longer, it would be much appreciated."

"... Maybe."

Erick sent a request to Poi that they had worked out beforehand; now seemed like a good time for this next part. Poi reached into a bag at the base of his back, and took out a small cloth bag Erick had put together as another small gift. Poi handed the package to Erick.

Erick held out the bag to Cyril, saying, “Here’s some seed potatoes for diversifying your crops. Plant the eyes on the potatoes to get more of the same kind; plant the seeds from the white flowers if you wish to experiment with different breeds. Potatoes are great; just boil and eat, if you can’t do anything else like butter or salt. They won’t taste good that way, but they will provide sustenance.”

Cyril smiled as he took the bag, holding it close, saying, “Thank you, Archmage Flatt.”

“Glad to help.” Erick said, “And now, I’m ready to say ‘til tomorrow’.”

Cyril stared out at the farms, and the growing fields. “Until tomorrow.”

Erick added, “Oh. And just so you know? If there’s something here that is not a produce, it won’t grow when I have not allowed it to grow. So you shouldn’t need to worry about someone slipping Daydropper seeds into the fields.” He said, “I’d imagine that would be a problem, yes?”

Erick eyed the ‘farmers’ in the fields. Armor peeked out from under some of their tunics. They moved with eyes half gazing into the night, expecting something to leap out, or attack. Several had swords, and all of them looked capable of holding their own on a battlefield.

Cyril said, “We expect something to happen, but we are prepared. It is good to know that daydropper seeds won’t sprout, though.”

“At least not under my power.” Erick added, “I hope. I’ve never actually tried it, or been near them. What do they look like, again?”

Yetta spoke from the yellow fields, “Like ivy with purple undersides, surrounded by purple shards.” She added, “But even if some sprout here tonight, they aren’t called ‘Daydroppers’ for nothing. They have to build up their dead air purple undersides at night, before the sun forces them to drop it during the day. [Grow] speeds this process, but it is still a process.”

Erick said, “Good to know.”

With a hand held out to Jane and Poi, Erick blipped away in a flash of white.

Ophiel remained in the sky, continuing to anchor Erick’s [Exalted Storm Aura] across the fields, while also clinging to Erick’s shoulder, staying with the whole party as they made themselves at home in their rooms in the White Palace.

- - - -

Erick’s rooms at the White Palace were spartan, in that there was no furniture at all. This was actually perfect, considering that everyone expected to be sleeping in tents. Teressa had already conjured appropriate beds and tables and chairs, as well as wash basins and everything else any of them could have wanted.

… Erick bought [Conjure Item], and just because he could, he got [Conjure Armor], too.

Conjure Armor 1, instant, 50 MP + Variable

Create weightless armor of whatever design you can create. Lasts until catastrophic damage.

Conjure Item 1, instant, 5 MP + Variable

Create an item of up to minor size. Skill with mana manipulation determines final creation. Lasts until suffering 5 points of damage.

Now was as good a time as any to power level these skills, while he met with everyone around a table, to openly discuss what was going on all around them. Erick flashed dense, complicated conjured items between his hands; ornate Faberge-type balls, with sparkling swirled carvings and layered, spinning inner structures. Each one cost several hundred mana, and granted several hundred experience.

Erick started with, “So they had that field ready to go for me. I went along with it because they looked like they needed the food, so please don’t begrudge me helping where I can help.”

Poi said, “I was going to, at first. But it is as you say: they needed it.”

“I’m glad you’re back to some of your old town council crafty self, Dad.” Jane said, “As for me? This entire day, since I got here this morning, has been people, one after the other, trying to trick information out of me.”

Erick flashed ornate, bejeweled gauntlets on his hands, with a hundred tiny eyes and four dozen tiny wings, leveling [Conjure Armor]. “As long as that’s all they’re doing.”

Jane looked at Erick’s gauntlets. “Are you powerleveling [Conjure Armor] and [Conjure Item]?”

“As well as testing these two rings.” Erick said, “They’re still going strong at six and eight.”

"Really!" Jane's eyebrows went up. "Well okay then."

Teressa, Poi, and Rats looked at the rings on Erick’s fingers.

Rats asked, “Those aren’t the same ones—”

“Don’t answer any of Rats’ question, sir.” Poi said, “Like Erick says, as long as they’re just trying to be friendly, I think we’re fine.”

Erick asked, “Has anyone found out if Cyril would be a good king, or if Odaali is a government that should be reinstated?”

Poi said, “They are as good as the rest of them, sir. Continuing on this path is the only way forward you have, anyway. If I were you, I would put this question out of my mind, for now.”

Erick grumbled, “It would be nice to know if I should prepare for something awful down the line.”

Jane said, “From what I've seen, the humans around here seem like standard humanity. Faults and horror and pain, same as anyone else. Probably a bit more cloak and dagger than Spur, back when the incani there were trying to oust us from the city. But that’s only in the extreme, and right now we're in an extreme time. Usually, they’re just out for their own.” She added, “Which seems normal enough to me.”

Teressa sighed a little, saying, “You humans are so unnecessarily violent with each other. Come to a proper orcol town, and you’ll see exactly how fucked up humanity is.”

Erick smiled.

Jane said, “Probably true, according to everything I’ve heard and seen.”

Erick asked, “Where are the dragonkin towns?”

Rats frowned directly at Erick.

“What?” Erick asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Yes, sir. You did.” Poi said, “Dragonkin come from all races and ourselves; we live everywhere. To relegate us to our own civilization is backward thinking at best, and leads to the death of countless dragonkin, at worst.” He added, “There’s historical precedence that you just don’t know about, so it's best to leave that alone, and never talk about Dragonkin being forced into reservations ever again.”

“… Sorry, Poi. Rats.” Erick said, “I did not know.”

“Think nothing of it, sir,” Poi said.

“Anyway! About you humans:” Rats explained, “It’s always something with the humans —no offense— but they’re always at war with one another, or someone else. Always with the banditry, too.” Rats said, “Ya know? That’s probably the largest problem going forward with Odaali. Even if liberated— actually, especially if liberated, this whole part of the world is gonna become a hotbed for organized crime. All these castles and towns, emptied by Daydroppers and the Halls of the Dead? Odaali is ripe for turning rotten.”

Teressa nodded, “I agree with that. They’re going to have a hard time with people getting their lives back on the road.”

Jane said, “We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? There’s two Queen Daydroppers. I saw them earlier. They’re… Odaali-sized.” She added, “And deep. Buried in the Underworld, through tunnels that should have long ago been closed.”

Erick flashed ornate, high-mana-cost armors around his arms, and set down onto the table trinkets composed of a dozen moving parts, saying, “How did you… do that? Investigate the Queen Vine already?”

“My new spell lets me do a lot.” Jane lifted her hand and darkness flowed around the limb, to twine out from her elbow, to form a shadowy second forearm and hand. She waved with both of them, her natural and her shadow hand, before dismissing the shadow back to nothing. “I probably shouldn’t explain it, considering people are listening to us right now. Or talk much about what I saw until it's go time.”

Erick looked at the walls of the room, saying, “I’d be upset, but I expected it.”

Poi said, “We all expect it, and are prepared.”

Teressa asked, “I’m on first watch, then.”

Erick dumped a bit more mana into ornate, useless things, and then started dumping HP into [Defend], [Perfect Hearing], [Ultrasight], and [Scent Tracker]. Ophiel sent a quiet question, wondering what he was doing; Erick sent back an explanation of ‘raising his skills’ and ‘nothing that important right now, but for the future’. He said, “I’m going to work on this while its raining out there.”

Everyone went their separate ways, but Erick remained in the living room, working on his spells and abilities, occasionally checking in at the farm.

And then he realized that he had taken Yetta’s [Gate] to get here. How was he supposed to rain at Spur’s farms tomorrow, when he had no known [Teleport] path to get home? He could probably rely on Yetta to make another [Gate] for a copy of Ophiel to fly through, but that seemed like a poor solution to what looked to be a longstanding problem.

So he created another Ophiel, and gave them all [Teleport].

Erick sent the third Ophiel up into the sky, and then west, using the [Familiar]’s innate [Scry] to ride on his shoulder for a little while. Ophiel loved the open night sky, with stars above and wind flowing strong. He sang to the world as he [Teleport]ed west, over prairie, over forest and vast, never-ending mountains, above ice capped peaks and over the Crystal Forest, with Crystal Agave and mimics glittering in the night. They witnessed land and sky that neither of them had ever seen before.

It was a nice trip. They stopped at several interesting locations and cast hundreds of spells; Erick leveling up some other things that he had neglected until now, but that he would need for the battle tomorrow.

Erick and Ophiel also got hopelessly lost.

After an hour or two of exploratory [Teleport]ing, Ophiel finally managed to get close enough to Spur that a [Teleport] to ‘above the house’, put the winged [Familiar] above the Human District. He let out a trill of happiness; he had found his destination! And then he [Teleport]ed away, super fast, because someone was firing some high-powered spell in his direction.

A rushed telepathic link from Poi struck Erick with, ‘What are you doing, sir! [Teleport]ing your creature into Spur like that!’

‘Finding the way home, Poi,’ Erick patted the Ophiel on his shoulder, sending, ‘He’s going to spend the night there, too, watching over the house.’

‘… Okay. They know, now.’ Exasperated, Poi sent, ‘Good night, sir.’

‘Good night, Poi! Thanks for always looking out for us.’

‘… You’re welcome. It is a pleasure.’

While Erick strung mana and [Exalted Storm Aura] to the Ophiel at Cyril’s Farm, going on what looked to be an appreciated hour number three, he directed the Ophiel closer to Spur to find the best way from there to the White Palace, while flashing out ornate [Conjure Armor]s and delicate [Conjure Item]s.

Soon, Erick had plotted a direct course between the White Palace and Spur, gotten a lay of the land, and seen exactly how much destruction the Daydropper had created out of Odaali.

- - - -

Ophiel hovered high in the cloudless, dark sky, [Ultrasight] and [Perfect Hearing] ticking down against his mana instead of against his HP, since he had none of the latter. With a hundred eyes, he gazed upon the enemy, and the enemy was vast.

White walls a dozen meters high and thousands long, surrounded a minor mountain, capped with bright white searchlights trained on the land outside. Erick focused on the outsides of the city, first.

Devastation and destruction laid everywhere, houses torn from their foundations, trees scattered, but there were no fires; fires didn’t survive under the blanket of dead air that dominated this land. Nothing lived out here except for daydroppers; nothing moved except the undead, and there were a lot of undead. As far as Ophiel could see, shambling corpses moved among the debris of their former lives, echoing pain into the sky, screaming; heard by no one but themselves, and Ophiel high above.

Larger undead monstrosities, amalgamations of bone and viscera, prowled in the darker places, watching the night with dozens of eyes scavenged from the dead. Ophiel saw as one of the horrors ripped out of its hiding hole to snatch a zombie that had gotten too close; munch crunch went the lesser undead, its mass added to the larger monster.

Ophiel turned to the white city. Someone had scrawled large black graffiti on the walls, reading ‘Kill and Exterminate Quest: Humans!’. Ophiel flew higher still, up above the searchlights pointed outward, to see into the darkened interior.

Ophiel [Teleport]ed higher still, as some fire magic engulfed it, but failed to do more than half of its [Personal Ward] in damage. Still, Ophiel needed to move faster, so Erick imbued him with [Swift Movement], and Ophiel flew faster, quicker, [Airshape] propelling him to be the wind and be just as untouchable. Fire lanced out from the city, streaming from unknown sources in the darkened city interior.

But it wasn’t dark. It was a [Distortion Ward], Erick recognized the characteristic Picasso-esque scattering of reality under the dark upper layer of the city’s airspace as a plume of fire snaked out from below that distortion, looking like a red static until it breached the surface and turned into a radiant animated fireball that flew into the sky, giving chase, racing to catch Ophiel.

Ophiel sang louder, violins and flutes booming out of the creature as it flapped and moved across the darkened, obscured undead city of Odaali, keeping ahead of the hungry flames.

Erick had seen enough; he couldn’t see anything.

Ophiel [Teleport]ed far away, one [Teleport] chasing the next, back toward Spur, leaving the screaming undead and destruction of Odaali far behind.

- - - -

Erick came back to himself after he left Ophiel at Spur.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

He checked on Ophiel-over-Cyril’s-farms; he was doing fine and happy, raining across people who needed food. This was hour four of the rain, and people were slowing down. The silos were getting full, and there was nowhere else to put all the growing grain. Erick dismissed that Ophiel; the rain was done, for now. Ophiel-over-Cyril’s-Farms went into non-existence with a gentle whisper of wind; now there were two Ophiel in total. Erick patted Ophiel, then went to bed.

Tiny Ophiel hung on to Erick’s headboard, watching over him as he slept, while also watching over the house in Spur.

- - - -

Breakfast was a quick affair, punctuated halfway through by Yetta who burst through the front door, shouting, “There will either be spellfire or there will be archmage blood spilled by my hand!”

Everyone was suddenly tense. Poi stood rigid over a stove of hashbrowns, while Jane casually set down the pancake she was grabbing. Teressa sighed out, catching Rats’ plate before it hit the ground.

Yetta yelled, “Give me your answer!”

“Fucking hell, Yetta!” Erick said, “I’ve already scouted the place and have a plan for killing not only the undead prowling around the outside of the city, but also the rest of it. Calm, please!”

Yetta stared at Erick. Poi poised for an assault, while shadows flickered behind Jane’s eyes.

Yetta looked around her, and said, “Fine. Start your assault when you are able. None of the other archmages are willing to go first.” She looked away, saying, “Sorry. It’s been a day, and it hasn’t even begun.”

Erick said, “I don’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but I am here to help, and I am understanding in my own way.”

Yetta frowned. She said, “Start in on the outside of the city, whenever you are able. The other archmages will take their cue from you— and before you ask, no, they won’t share who they are or what they’re capable of, and if they think I am giving away their secrets, they will pull out of the fight.”

Erick nodded over his plate of eggs and bacon, saying, “I’ll begin the assault in one hour; and it will be very, very obvious.” He reluctantly said, “I hope I am as effective as you hope.”

“… I pray for that as well.”

She blipped away in a smattering of yellow light.

Erick breathed. He sighed and said, “I’m going to be defenseless while I’m doing this. Are we good to go?”

Jane asked, “So you went to Odaali last night? With Ophiel, I guess?”

“Just into the sky,” Erick said, as Poi sighed in the background. Erick continued, “High white walls, a dark [Distortion Ward] covering the whole city, undead prowling around outside.”

"So I guess it's time to talk of what I saw." Jane said, “It’s not just one [Distortion Ward], but thousands, and it’s not just blanketing the top of the city, but all the way throughout the whole space.”

Erick looked at Jane. “How much of Odaali did you already explore?”

“I've only seen about as much as any competent spy should be expected to see.” Darkness flickered from Jane's hands up around her body, as she said, “Spying is very easy, now. And I had all of yesterday, too.” She whispered, “I can see through this stuff.”

Teressa said, “Killzone is going to love that.”

Jane smiled. “He already knows, and you are correct.”

“… Can I get a map on this table, here?” Erick gestured at the breakfast table.

Jane said, “Yes.” She stabbed a hashbrown with her fork, adding, “After breakfast.”

Erick started summoning Ophiels outside of his window, saying, “That’s fine. I have to summon the full squad, anyway.”

Ophiel trilled as more and more of himself appeared beside himself, flying outside of the windows of Erick’s rooms at the White Palace. Erick let them go explore, for now. The battle would begin soon; there would be no time for peaceful flight when the spells started flying.

After his mana was back, and breakfast was over, Erick asked, "So tell me what you saw?"

Jane began, "So what I saw was this: The city is full of undead and living patrols..."

- - - -

Seven Ophiels flew in a cloudy sky, high above troops stationed on thick stone walls that cut through farmland and estates. The hastily erected stone barrier was the front line of the containment effort; it rose from the ground twenty kilometers away from Odaali, a full encirclement of the captured city, but even at that distance it was barely able to contain the undead and the daydroppers that spilled out of the white walled city.

On both sides of the wall, as far as Ophiel could see, was destruction. Past the wall, toward Odaali, was blackened ground and prowling undead terrors, but even on the defended side there was horrendous damage; the Coalition Army had had to push in toward the city, fighting all the way, destroying homes and town halls and everything that had taken hundreds of years to build, in order to take back the land and create the front line wall. But this was as far as they could go. The undead were too strong, the daydroppers too plentiful the closer one got to Odaali.

The front line wall had even been breached in several locations last night, but the Coalition Army pushed back the undead and took back the front line. Fires still smoldered on both sides of the barrier; oxygen was able to exist here, but not any closer to the city.

Ophiel flew high, across the barrier, spreading out as he traveled closer to Odaali, taking in the sights, getting a lay of the land in the daytime, while Erick decided on the best way to attack. The white walls rose twenty kilometers in the distance, but the fight was also right below.

In the daytime, Erick could clearly see the undead horde that had been raised out of the populace. Thousands of people stood everywhere, like desiccated corpses walking around on puppet strings, shambling and plodding from here to there, some barely clothed except with tatters, others in the armor they had likely died wearing. They strolled aimless, across most of the land, but directly underneath Ophiel, they looked up at the winged [Familiar].

With purple eyes gazing skyward, the horde underneath Ophiel took notice of the winged creature above, and they stopped being shambling, directionless creatures. They moved smoother, they walked faster, they tried to remain under Ophiel, but when they couldn’t, the horde up ahead was already staring at Ophiel.

There was some semblance of a hive mind in there, according to Jane, and it seemed to be true. Erick reflected it would have been nice for Yetta to speak about what she wanted out of the assault, of the best way to attack, but Yetta was probably herding her own cats right now. She expected Erick to see what needed to be done, and then do it. Erick hoped he lived up to that demand.

Ophiel flew forward and the landscape changed from blackened devastation, to devastation covered in green. Green vines blanketed the land, thickly covering the remnants of destroyed buildings, twining around dead trees, covering farm fences and roads, choking out groves of trees, while fragmented purple shards layered below the Daydroppers.

A dense magic held in the air; some variant form of [Airshape] that locked the underlying layer of dead air from blowing away, like an invisible smoke holding ten meters above the ground. If Ophiel were a breathing creature, it would be dead the second it flew below that layer of variant air. Luckily, it wasn’t, and it would never need to get that close, not for what came next.

Now was as good a time as any to start killing; he was far enough away from the front line wall. Erick would be using his own mana for this part.

A white orb materialized around the central Ophiel of the flock of seven. Thick air crashed outward, spilling hundreds of meters down to the ground, suddenly inundating the green and purple land ten kilometers in every direction. A riotous keening filled the air from all sides, as daydroppers suddenly withered and died. Plumes of clean air burst up through the layer of dead air, scattering thick air into the sky.

Ophiel spread out further, preparing to take evasive maneuvers, and fire back at anyone—

Lances of light sparked up from the undead horde below, aimed at every Ophiel; Ophiel dodged, [Blinking] around under his own mana. With [Ultrasight] and a hundred eyes for each body, Ophiel saw every attack before it came near; evading came naturally to him. Ophiel was the flier; Erick was the gunner. Erick was thrilled Ophiel could dodge this well; this was so much easier than doing everything himself.

Erick maintained the [Domain of the Withering Slime], but went back to his body to check on a few things. He was sitting at the cleared kitchen table over a map of the city, and—

Wilhelmina sat on the other side of the table.

The Duchess said, “Good morning, Archmage.”

“Uh.” Erick looked around, then gestured at the map in front of him, saying, “I’m in the middle of… this.”

Rats delivered a cup of steaming tea to Wilhelmina, while Jane sat by Erick’s side and Poi stood behind him. Teressa was by the door, arms crossed, wearing her full body grey armor, standing next to a similarly armored man who was rather intimidating and probably a very large human, but who was still two feet shorter than Teressa.

“Don’t mind me.” Wilhelmina said, “I’m here to provide assistance to the only archmage who seems willing to attack. If you don’t need my help, then you don’t, but I would be remiss to not provide said help, when I am doing nothing but entertaining people who want a piece of the pie before it’s even come out of the oven.”

Erick checked his notifications while he listened to her, and yes, there were lots of Daydroppers dying as he fed his [Domain of the Withering Slime] into the battlefield.

Erick nodded, saying, “Okay. Then. Update: Withering is working well on the battlefield south of the city. Looks like I’ve already taken out… two hundred daydroppers, or more. Number is still going up. They’re all low level?” Erick looked over the notifications. “Maybe… level 20ish?”

Wilhelmina did not seem to take this news as good. She just calmly said, “The Queen Vine eats all of those who get above level 25; we discovered that rather early after establishing the front line. All the smaller undead are around that level, too. The larger ones are level 40, but we’ve only ever managed to kill two of those; they exist as a mind that moves from soul to soul, and can escape through the horde if there are any other nearby undead.”

Erick said, “Thank you for the information.”

Wilhelmina dipped her head, then lifted her face to look at Erick, saying, “Of course, Archmage. When I heard Yetta had just thrown you into the battle, I knew she wouldn’t have given you enough information about the forces you face. Yetta might be a Champion, but she was an adventurer for many, many years before this recent addition, and that is how those types are, unfortunately.” She added, “Feel free to question me about anything you might be seeing out there, at any point in time.”

Erick nodded; Jane had given him much of what he needed to know, but Wilhelmina would know more, if Erick needed more answers.

Erick went back to Ophiel.

Ophiel dodged lancing beams of white light with simple rolls and experienced [Blink]s, but with seven bodies and without Erick’s direction he had taken some large hits to his [Personal Ward]s. There were still seven Ophiel flying around, though. And Ophiel was getting better. He was gaining battle experience faster than he was losing integrity. Erick shored up the mana of several who were low, and then went on the offensive.

Down on the ground, the white beams were coming out of walking corpses without any real rhyme or reason; he would need to destroy a vast many of them. But as Erick watched, he saw that the attacking horde was getting better at attacking Ophiel. There were minds at work in that horde. Erick knew each of them was a human soul trapped in an undead body, working under the commands of those in the city, but it appeared some of the horde also maintained their intelligence into undeath.

Killing them was a philosophical question for another day.

Erick was far enough away from the front lines, and there were more than enough enemies here, that a [Wintry Sea] would likely stay in the area. Erick imbued the spell into Ophiel, and directed Ophiel to unload upon the undead.

Wintry Sea X, long range, 1 minute per level, 250 MP

A large designated space rapidly loses all heat, dealing to all inside. Damage from Wintry Sea automatically slows. .

Glittering blue spheres of cold blossomed across the horde below. Seven at a time, three times in a row. Twenty-one orbs of blue glittered in the daylight, and raced off. Ice formed on the edges of fences and bricks. The effect upon the undead was immediate; legs broke off, frozen to the ground, while the body continued forward without control, smashing down, breaking into blackened chunks of frosty flesh and bone. [Wintry Sea]s rapidly scattered across the land, moving through the horde like hyperactive children, left and right and forward in lunges and spurts, focusing on a target long enough to break it, and then moving on. Within moments, the lancing white beams ceased. The horde in this small part of rural Odaali had been routed, but pieces of it still remained; the blue spells scattered fast and far while generally moving north, toward Odaali, following the largest concentration of undead but skipping some targets here and there for whatever indiscernible reason.

Ophiel followed the blue spheres north, keeping pace with them from the air as they ripped apart the undead, while the [Domain of the Withering Slime] cleaned up every daydropper in sight, the bursting [Cleanse] of every daydropper death carving ten meter holes in the purple droppings that layered the ground.

The manasphere shifted, as some massive spellwork took hold of the ambient mana. The sky churned. The air turned sharp. Sparks filled Erick’s vision—

He came back to himself, sitting across the table from Wilhelmina.

“Uh.” Erick tried to reconnect to Ophiel, but the seven at the battlefield were gone. One was still there in Spur, and another two were nearby; one on Erick’s shoulder and the other hovering high in the sky above, keeping several dozen eyes on everything around the White Palace. But the Ophiel Erick had sent into the city were destroyed in some massive spellwork. Erick said, “They killed all of them.”

Wilhelmina spoke, “Yes. The counterattack has begun. They’ve activated the Queen’s [Shard Storm].”

Erick touched the Ophiel on his shoulder; he seemed sad, but at Erick’s touch, he trilled out excitement. He was ready to go again. Erick would be ready to go, soon, too; as soon as his mana came back. He summoned the first of seven more Ophiel directly out of the window to his room, and sent a [Scry] orb high, high into the skies above the battlefield.

- - - -

A storm of something had filled the world; it immediately consumed Erick’s [Scry] orb.

- - - -

Erick came back to himself. “What the fuck?” He leapt out of his seat to look out the window.

Odaali was several hundred kilometers away, but with how high that something was—

Wilhelmina said, “I thought I would have seen it from here the first time she activated, too. But you can’t.” Wilhelmina explained. “We’ve cleared the lands surrounding Odaali of both undead and daydroppers twice before, but each time, once there is enough damage done to the surroundings, the Queen Vine activates her mana storm. It reaches out halfway to the front line and high into the sky, doing several small actions all the while killing everything that the Queen does not permit in her presence.”

Erick listened to Wilhelmina and sat back down, his mana recovered enough to pop out another Ophiel; so he did, right outside his window to join the other one.

She continued, “In some arcane, unknown order, it gathers the souls freed from destroyed undead, either creates or repairs the bodies destroyed and stuffs the souls back inside, and reseeds the land with daydropper seeds. All the while ripping the manasphere into a [Force Shrapnel] storm on the level of a goddess.”

“Downtime?” Erick asked.

“None.” Wilhelmina said, “She can reactivate her mana storm at will, and while she does, the entire sky turns to dead air. Our frontlines are currently holding open many, many [Cleanse Aura]s, in order to keep the effects on the rest of the Greensoil republic to a minimum—” She paused, listening to the air; lines of intent connected her to at least three other people. She said, “Archmage Tenebrae is unable to [Dispel] the mana storm, but Archmage Opal seems to be having some luck understanding the spell.”

“Archmage Opal is here?” Erick asked, turning to Poi.

Poi said, “I doubt it. She lives near Spur and does not move for anyone or anything; her [Familiar] is likely on scene, though.”

Wilhelmina said, “Your guardsman is correct.” She paused again. She sat much straighter, and said, “Opal says that the [Shard Storm] is not truly originating from the Queen Vine. It’s five people working in concert to create the spell—” She frowned. “You can do that?” She shook her head, saying, “No. It can’t be; ritual casting is not capable of linking with monsters! That just doesn't—”

The air sparkled atop the table, above the map of Odaali Jane had created out of [Conjure Item]. A sphere of shimmering opalescence appeared. Erick looked around; he, Jane, Teressa, Wilhelmina’s guard, and Rats, were not expecting this appearance. But Wilhelmina and Poi were nonplussed. Poi looked at the opalescent sphere like it was perfectly normal to see such a thing just appear before him. Wilhelmina gazed upon the sphere like it was an annoyance.

Wilhelmina started in on the floating orb, “You will do what was bargained for, Opal.”

“I am.” Opal’s voice emanated from the orb. It was a wispy, scratchy thing, belonging to a woman who had smoked at least two packs a day for forty years. The orb turned toward Erick, “That [Wintry Sea] of yours is a menace. You should never use it outside of a situation like this.”

“I am aware,” Erick said.

“Good.” Opal said, “Then to fulfill my bargain: Erick. I have fully seen the entirety of Odaali and the land underneath. If you send your [Familiar] up high and drop those [Wintry Sea]s from outside of the sphere of the [Shard Storm], and I pop the [Ward]s protecting the city, I have no doubt that that awful spell will fall into the city and disrupt several of the components sustaining the storm. The [Shard Storm] won’t go away, and that won’t be the end of the fight; that Queen Vine has much worse tricks up its sleeve. But it will enable the rest of the plan to come together.” Opal turned back to Wilhelmina. “They have plans to blow the city if they cannot hold it. Keep your men out and plan on rebuilding.”

Wilhelmina suddenly yelled, “That is unacceptable! You must take back the city intact!”

Opal’s floating orb said, “I will be taking down the various [Ward]s layering the roof of Odaali when you are in position, Erick. Expect to get pushed aside by Tenebrae as soon as that old asshole makes his appearance—”

Wilhelmina stressed, “You will take back the city without letting them blow it up, Opal. Find a way. That’s what you archmages do, isn’t it? Find unlikely magical solutions to otherwise impossible scenarios?”

Erick asked, “How are they going to blow it up?”

Opal spat out, “Overcharged grand-rads at every city block—”

Wilhelmina gasped, as Erick drew a complete blank.

“— laced in with the Queen Vine; when she dies, the city dies.”

Wilhelmina said, “Then we shall kill the people! And when the defenders of the city have fallen, we will take our time extricating the Queen Vine.” She demanded of Erick, “Don’t you have some spell that targets people?”

Erick froze, then quickly came back to himself, shouting, “NO! I DO NOT!”

The room went quiet.

Wilhelmina’s face turned hard; distant. After a moment, she spoke with authority, “Do what you must, and I shall pray my city doesn’t become a crater at the end of today.”

Opal said, “A crater might be preferable, Wilhelmina. No one will want to live in Odaali after it has fallen this far; Spur is only recovering because of Erick, and my city has been trying to recover for a hundred years.”

“Is there a way to enchant rads from a distance?” Erick asked, a sudden idea springing to mind. “Sorry, that was nonsensical. I meant: Could we disenchant the rads that they’ve primed to blow?”

“No.” Opal said, “A few hundred years ago, sure, back when rad-bombs were pathetic little things. But not these days. The ones they’ve created in there are the good kind, too. Top of the line; Odaali will be a memory if they trigger.”

Wilhelmina sighed into her seat.

“Okay...” Erick tried, “Do you know how a Shade’s [Teleport Lock] works? I’m sure they’re planning on escaping the city before they blow it, right?”

Opal’s orb vibrated with laughter. “Not the slightest idea! I’ve been trying to figure that out for the longest time. They get the spell from Melemizargo himself; its deity-granted magic. It’s not even in the Script. There are ways to prepare an area to lock out almost every kind of magic, including teleportation, but they’re expensive and take time to create. A Shade’s [Teleport Lock] is absolute and they can turn it on and off at will. Near as I can guess it’s an aura of some kind. But even people with [Eyes of Magic] looking at Shades operating the spell can’t figure it out.” She added, “I doubt you can, either.”

“… If I figure it out and lock them down, would they give up? Or would they go down with the city?”

Jane giggled, and Opal went silent. Wilhelmina looked hopeful for half a moment, but quickly turned to resignation.

Wilhelmina said, “I doubt it. They’re prepared to die.” She sat a bit straighter. She said, “Forgive me my lack of decorum. Attack the city, any way you can. Let them blow it up if they wish. Depriving the enemy of a stronghold in the center of the Greensoil Republic is more important than saving a city that might never recover.”

Opal said, “I agree.”

Erick’s mana had mostly recovered, so he summoned four more Ophiels outside the window of the room. He was back down to low mana; he needed to wait to recover. He asked, “So? The plan?”

Opal said, “The upper reaches of the city are layered with [Weather Ward]s and—”

“Wait.” Erick said, “Could I [Grow] the Queen Vine instead? Have it turn on its masters?”

The room went quiet again.

Opal said, “You would likely get added to the Kill and Exterminate Quest.”

“Ah.” Erick said, “Never mind that idea, then.” Erick had another idea. “How about producing a plant that is parasitic with the daydropper, neutralizing its ability to create dead air? And then I [Grow] that one?”

Opal hummed. “What were you thinking?”

Wilhelmina did not look hopeful; she just looked more resigned.

“A [Cleanse] vine,” Erick said.

Opal hummed again. She said, “The danger in attempting to create such a thing is that you create another problem for the environment, and besides: whose version of [Cleanse]? A plant might grow and mutate into applying [Cleanse] in a way you will never expect. It might view the bacteria in the human body as an infection. Or worse: it might grow to view humans themselves as an infection. That could be worse than the daydropper. People have been making and dying to monstrous plants for a long, long time, because those plants almost always turn on their creators, and then themselves. The Daydropper is among those that do not follow this trend, and so we are in the middle of a Kill and Exterminate Quest to get rid of it.” Opal’s sphere rotated once. She said, “A [Cleanse] vine is a bad idea. Creating a magical plant should only ever be done under controlled conditions and with priests of Atunir in attendance and in approval; never on the battlefield.”

Erick’s mana was full enough, for now. He said, “Then no [Cleanse] Vine.” He had another idea, “How about normal rain? And then I freeze the Queen Vine with multiple layers of [Wintry Sea]?”

“Oh?” Opal hummed. “Maybe?” The orb stilled.

Everyone waited for her to speak again.

The opalescent orb dropped to the table and rolled a foot, coming to a stop on a wrinkle on the map.

“Uh.” Rats asked, “Was that supposed to—”

The orb righted itself, floating into the air, Opal’s voice coming out of it, “I just checked. Freezing the Queen Vine might explode the ordinance, or defuse them. They’re using high-grade Tower designs popularized five years ago over on Nelboor, and those things worked well all up and down that war-tossed continent." She hummed. She said, "Colder temperatures do negatively impact the explosive yield of rad-bombs, either way. It’s a toss-up; I have no idea if this will work.”

“Do it.” Wilhelmina said, “I give you permission. Those bombs did not work so well in the winter, Opal. Check your sources again.”

"I guess I will!" Opal asked, "We’re going with this plan?”

"Yes," Wilhelmina demanded, a spark of hope in her voice.

“Yes,” Erick agreed.

“Tenebrae has been notified.” Opal said, “He’ll do his thing once we’ve started the attack. This is what we’re going to do...”

- - - -

Far and away, south of Odaali, but within sight of the city, seven Ophiel [Teleport]ed into existence, each holding rocks that had been anchored with area [Absorption Ward]s provided by people with more than enough mana to spare to create powerful area protections. Each Ophiel also gently flickered white with [Personal Absorption Ward]s. Three of the Ophiel held opal orbs, in addition to their [Ward]ed rocks.

The sky in the north was a hurricane of Force shards, flowing from left to right, whistling loud. The [Shard Storm] touched the clouds and ripped across the land. All inside of that dangerous sharp space, under the storm, undead were piecing together, like piles of body parts reconnecting, but waiting to stand up until after the storm was gone. Around the undead, green growth blanketed out from crevices, across destroyed houses, shedding purple fragments as the new daydroppers grew ever larger.

Ophiel flew directly up, staying well outside of the [Shard Storm].

Another [Teleport] brought the whole flock into the high, high sky, directly above Odaali. They were kilometers up, but still the [Shard Storm] reached this far. [Force Shrapnel] buffeted them, but they maintained position, their area [Absorption Ward]s doing heavy work. If they had teleported directly above the city, this tactic would have failed, but the [Shard Storm] was weaker up here where the churn of shards was less directed, less whipping around the center with sustained force.

Far down below, past the [Shard Storm], lay Odaali, a dozen kilometers wide, situated around a minor mountain and layered with black [Distortion Ward]s and [Weather Ward]s, and more.

Opal’s orbs pulsed, the energy of the pulse taking a second to reach the city below. All across the blackened roof of layered [Ward]s, holes appeared, exposing the towers and buildings of the city. The orbs kept pulsing, popping every type of [Ward] except absorption; like throwing darts at a wall of balloons at a county fair.

All seven of Ophiel cast [Wintry Sea] after [Wintry Sea], dropping glittering blue spells through the [Shard Storm], into the city, into the holes opened up by Opal, while Erick cast [Call Lightning] after [Call Lightning].

The sky was already filled with Force shrapnel, but now it filled with dark, foreboding clouds. Rain started almost immediately, falling down into the [Shard Storm], clouds and rain carrying away on the twisting wind.

But the clouds piled higher and higher. Lightning flashed. All seven Ophiel were in the middle of the thunderhead, now. Rain flowed, stronger and stronger.

A bomb cyclone formed over Odaali, at Erick's command. Night overtook the day.

And still, Erick cast [Call Lightning] into the skies above Odaali. And still, Opal popped [Wards].

Ophiels started disintegrating under the force of the [Shard Storm]; one gone, two then three. When only two were left, Erick stopped focusing on [Call Lightning] in order to funnel mana into the remaining Ophiels. Opal’s orbs shattered; Ophiel was alone in the sky, while Erick rapidly tried to save them from disintegrating.

Something shifted in the [Shard Storm].

As lightning charged through the thunderstorm all around Ophiel, the [Shard Storm] suddenly dropped, its radius lost by over half. Some important thing had broken inside the city. Ophiel was now outside of the spell, but still over Odaali; now hidden in the roiling thunderstorm.

Ophiel dropped down to get a look at the city and ran right into the maws of two flying fire snakes.

He disintegrated to fragments of mana in an instant.

- - - -

Erick came back to himself.

A display screen hung in the air to the side of the room, projecting the battle of Odaali for everyone around him, and from this perspective, Erick wondered if he would ever be the same after seeing what he was capable of causing.

White walls rose in the distance, but they were frosted over. Spikes of ice crashed up and out of Odaali, growing taller and thicker under a deluge from above, like a river had opened up in the sky and turned into icebergs as it hit the city.

Wilhelmina stared at the image. Rats and Teressa were looking from Wilhelmina’s guard, who had his hand on his sword, to Erick. Teressa’s full helmet was on; Erick had no idea what she was thinking. But Rat’s redscale face was openly slack, tiny ‘wows’ and ‘oh my gods’ escaping from his mouth. Poi stood near Erick, watchful.

Jane broke the near silence, saying, “Well fuck. That’s quadratic mage for you.”

“It’ll stop raining in seven minutes,” Erick said, trying to negate some of the reality he was seeing. “It’s not that— It’s not...”

Jane asked, “Can other mages do that? How do you guys still have civilization when this is possible?”

Wilhelmina said, “Archmages are few and far between because most are not capable of combining magic into...” Her voice faltered, “Into a force like this.”

Jane said, “Well damn.”

“How many [Call Lightning]s is that, sir?” Poi asked.

“Uh. Twenty. I think.”

Opal’s voice came out of the viewing screen, “Here comes Tenebrae.” She added, “The Queen Vine is active, some bombs have detonated; most have not. It appears you were right, Wilhelmina. Those bombs don't work so well in the winter." She added, "Oh! The Halls of the Dead have fled the field.”

The image moved slightly left.

Someone —Tenebrae, Erick suspected— had decided that they did not like living on the ground; so they made a floating castle. That floating castle, all solid grey stone and military-minded, hovered in the sky to the left of the white-walled city, staying well outside of the bomb cyclone and devastating blue spells wreaking havoc inside Odaali.

Erick said, “Now that’s impressive! A flying castle! I can’t do that.”

“Not yet,” muttered Rats.

Erick glared at the redscale, but Rats didn’t care; he was staring at the viewing screen. Erick looked back to the screen.

A monster stirred in the city.

Under the ice, cracking up through layers upon layers of frost, up into the freezing rain, flowed deeply green and purple vines, like trees growing a blizzard. Growing upward, rising into the sky, a hundred spiked branches of the Queen Vine flowed into the storm.

The [Shard Storm] suddenly contracted, gathering close to the vines, to the trees, churning around the Queen Vine like so many sawblades, carving away at the constricting ice, freeing the monster from its frozen prison. It thrashed into the sky, hundreds upon hundreds of meters long in every direction; violently powerful.

Coruscating beams of kaleidoscopic light flashed out from the entirety of the Queen Vine, pummeling into the grey castle.

The attack did not reach. The prismatic beams flashed against an invisible sphere surrounding the grey castle, reflecting randomly to splash across what remained of rural Odaali and into the sky, ripping up the land, tearing away the clouds.

An invisible pulse tore out of the grey castle, spreading in every direction, tossing dirt and debris, pressing back against Erick’s still raining [Call Lightning], but doing worse to the Queen Vine. Tendrils shredded, the sawblade spell faltered. The Queen Vine rippled as the grey castle advanced—

Wilhelmina stood, saying, “This location is no longer safe. The Halls are attacking.”

A boom echoed somewhere outside of Erick’s room. The viewing screen flickered and died.

Opal’s voice said, “Get out of there! Now!”

Everyone moved at once. Jane grabbed Erick; Erick grabbed Jane. Rats shouted that ‘It's time to go! Where, though?’ Erick had a location in mind. He flashed out another small Ophiel, to go with the one on his shoulder. He had enough hands like this to take everyone with him at once, including Wilhelmina and her guard.

Wilhelmina grabbed her guard’s hands, saying, “Yetta and Cyril are fighting the Halls of the Dead right outside; I suggest you stay out of their way. I’ll be in touch.”

The Duchess and her guard vanished in a blip of grey.

Erick reached for Jane and Poi, while Ophiel reached out for Teressa and Rats. Erick said, “Come on! I got a location scouted already.”

“Good enough for me.” Rats linked with Ophiel.

Everyone gathered fast as the whole building shook. Briefly, Erick held in the air, as the ground and the building all around them began to collapse under the guidance of some unknown force, but the [Teleport] situation had already been worked out. In a blip of white, Erick and his people left the crumbling White Palace.

- - - -

Erick, Jane, Poi, Teressa, and Rats, reappeared on the plains to the west. Nothing but flat green grasses stretched from one horizon to the next.

Jane let go of Erick’s hand, and said, “I love you, Dad, but if Yetta and Cyril are fighting back there I’ve got to go help them.”

Erick looked at Jane. He breathed. He said, “Okay. Be safe.”

Poi interrupted, “We’ll keep him safe, Jane.”

Jane looked like she was going to say something to Poi, but he beat her to it; Jane smiled, nodded, then said, “Thank you,” before vanishing in a blip of midnight blue.

A wind blew across the prairie.

The battle, and the Queen Vine, were far away. Erick, Poi, Teressa, and Rats were safe, but no one else was.

Was Erick okay with this?

No. He wasn’t, but he had to look after his own before he could secure everyone else.

Rats broke the silence with, “I knew you were an archmage, but seeing is different than believing. You iced that city!” He added, “Uh. Sir.”

Erick said, “Anyone could do that. Jane said it best: I don’t understand how your civilization hasn’t crumbled by now.”

Rats said, “Wilhelmina had it right; you literally invented every spell you used out there. No one else can do that.” Rats added, “And how much mana did you use this morning? Thirty thousand? More?”

Teressa said, “Ophiel has his own mana. So maybe fifty thousand, altogether.”

Rats said, “And you claim to not be a real archmage? Bah! You’re the archmagey-iest archmage that ever archmage’d. Uh. Sir.”

“That’s enough, Rats,” Poi said. “We should prepare defenses.” Poi turned toward Erick. “And then?”

Erick said, “And then I’m going back in.”

“Very well, sir,” Poi said.

Erick breathed before considering the path forward. And then he felt the rings around his fingers. They were still at plus 6 and plus 8 All Stats, even with all the mana and HP he had used today. That made him about as nervous as what he had done to Odaali. And then, to make it all much, much worse, he looked at his notifications. Four people were dead at his hand; four incani, each for 95% Participation.

Erick promptly puked up what little remained of breakfast.