Tree of Aeons

301. Border Control I

301. Border Control I

301

Year 276

Magisar

“We yield.” The group of mages were battered, their leader unable to believe what happened. Half of the upper dome of the tower was blasted apart, exposing the top to the whims of the weather. 

A dwarven mage stood standing, in his hand a wooden stick made from one of Aeon’s many branches. A fragment of divinity, as a conduit for magic. 

Lausanne looked at the Magisarian mages and wizards. Their shields shattered. Their staffs cracked. A group of them, defeated by one of Valthorn archmages, a level 145 [Grand Archmage] named Blackmoore, a rare dwarven mage. It wasn’t hard at all to bribe enough of the mid-ranked mages of the Tower to support an unusual challenge for the tower. 

It was even easier once these bribed mages saw who exactly they were consorting with. Those whose eyes could still see, knew the winds were changing. Mages were generally smart, a certain level of intellectual prowess was generally necessary to understand the tomes and scrolls of earlier mages, though there were always those who intuited magic as if it was the back of their hands. Those were geniuses, and those were incredibly rare. 

Spectators, there were about two hundred or so mages who belonged to the upper classes of the Tower, unsure whether to clap or cheer. It was just pure silence.

Lausanne smiled, and decided to set off the cheers. She clapped, and soon, those that she bribed took the cue to clap as well.

Blackmoore stood in the center, with his level, he easily dwarfed every other mage present. 

In their eyes, he must seem like a prodigy, and they are not wrong.

Blackmoore could be called one of those prodigies. Blessed with a gift for the higher magics that was really hard to translate, in the old dwarven societies he would have been forced into some kind of magical blacksmith, or alchemist. Instead, through the Valtrian Order’s many academies, he escaped the constraints of the dwarven social order, and dabbled in more pure forms of magic. 

Lausanne knew how hard it was to train magic. She was there when the old Wizard Madeus tried to train the new students. It’s a shame that so many with talents were often educated in fields that did not exploit their strengths.

She shook her head. Here they were, and so, the first of the Towers. 

Blackmoore declared, as he glanced about. “Any more wishes to dispute our claim?” 

The Tower Lords frowned. The female elf could see the disbelief in their eyes. All their lives they’ve worked towards higher magics. They dedicated their resources and efforts to their goals, and reached the level that couldn’t go anymore. 

The cursed level cap. 

For Magisarians, it was also around Level 85. 

For mages who reached that level, it must’ve felt like they’ve reached the end. They could not go higher. 

“How?” The Tower Lords asked. Maybe the question they should have asked was why. 

Blackmoore was not protected by a domain, and thus, a high level version of [inspect] could give a Level estimate. So they knew his levels must be very high. They could conclude it was some kind of [inspect-confusion] type of spell or ability, thus the number shown was a lie. 

But the strength he displayed was clear, and no one could deny the hole in their tower. The spectators were stunned to see a mage overpower so many of them so clearly. 

Blackmoore nodded, as he turned to face the spectators. “Aeon’s gift. I ask the crowd again. Does anyone wish to state their opposition to our demands?”

The Tower Lords could not believe it. “What- what do you want?”

“As is often said in our circles. Nothing for now, but eventually, everything. But I jest.” Blackmoore grinned. “Our first goal will be a coalition of the Towers. As of this day, and until the day the demons are driven back, we will now have full control of your military. Together, we will drive the demons back.” 

Everywhere, the Tower Lords fought tooth and nail against the mages of Order, but the gaps in strength between someone in the level 80s and someone in the level 140s was immense. 

The Valthorns won everywhere, but we did not become the new Tower Masters. If anything, the combined military forces of the Towers would still pale compared to whatever we could field. 

But, it would deliver an impact. It was our moment of strength. A chance for the combined mages to see how high the tree grew, and where they stood beneath it.

The Order would not be able to administer this world. It just didn’t have the size or scale. It would be harder still to do with those entrenched in the current system resisting us at every step.

The Valthorns concluded that the existing process and ruling system of the Magisarians were not compatible with our ways. We would not be able to fully capitalize on their strengths if we maintained their system. Thus, we would have to redo it our way.

A statement of strength would lend credence to our legitimacy and ideas. 

This statement would win over allies. This statement is our way of telling the local military that there is another way. A complicated power dance to tell those watching that we have the power to protect them. That their tower masters were going to rot away in their towers.

Ultimately, we were not bound by the rules of Magisar. The Order would create new cites, one of them with a Node Tree at its heart. Unlike the Towers of Magisar that were all in various states of decay, a new city would be built in one of the reclaimed lands. Somewhere that would be fertile enough. A new city, and volunteers from the Towers could then move to. 

With our strength, we would even set up a city right where the demon king was. 

From the volunteers and those willing, the Order would form a new organizational structure of both these Tower Refugees, and the Order. The young mages would be directly trained and supervised by the Order. Those entrenched in the old system would stay back, and they would bear witness to the gaps between us.

***

“How’s things, Lausanne?” Ebon came over from Landas, and visited one of the newly constructed cities on Magisar. It was located in a valley, in a space that was reclaimed from the demonic corruption. Lausanne was made the temporary leader of the new city, as she was technically the most experienced person in the field. Given how thinly the Valthorns were spread across the worlds, it’s not like they had that much of a choice. 

Other than the Dwarven Archmage Blackmoore who was slightly higher level than her, everyone else was in the level 100s to 120s, while Lausanne was already firmly in the Level 140s. It was a pace she didn’t expect, yet somehow, everyone else seemed to think it was normal. 

Lausanne stood, and smiled at her teammate from their Landas tour. Hoyia followed behind, as she too, appeared through the makeshift door. 

The elven temporary leader answered the dark knight. “Slow. But moving.” 

“As is on Landas. People remain the hardest component of our struggle. Give them time. I see you’ve gotten all these built, at least.” Ebon pointed to the structures around them. Lausanne shrugged. 

“The physical objects are easier to build. The Magisarians remain unnerved by these land-based cities. They’ve lived so long in their floating towers that they are still mentally scarred by life living so close to the lands. That’s a problem that will take some time.”

Hoyia looked around, and after a while, tapped Lausanne on her shoulder. “Little to worry. A passive blessing from the aura of a [Prayer Tree] should fix that.” 

Lausanne looked outside. There wasn’t much of a view, much of the Magisarian terrain was rocky and rugged. “What of Landas?”

“The [Lords] are moving in to set things up, and the locals are generally compliant with what was asked of them. Have they assigned a [Lord] to Magisar, yet?”

The elf shook her head. “Central claims they are not yet ready.”

“Strange. Delvegard has seven lords.” Hoyia frowned. “Wonder what’s happening on the field that’s causing this.” 

“I was told that they’re trying to get a [Mage Lord].” Lausanne regurgitated the answer from command. She would likely transfer that control to one of the dedicated [Lords] or [ladies] once they arrived.

“Ah.” Hoyia and Ebon clicked in acknowledgement. Specialized classes were harder to prepare for deployment. Certain ruling classes were harder to deal with. 

“So for now, I’m the temporary leader trying to smooth things over. I do have some good assistants, and planners, though.” Lausanne answered, though she did have her share of difficulties. Frustrations with the locals were mainly on the little microaggressions and resistances. “The Magisarians have many quirks, and I initially hoped that they’d be smart enough to just accept us. I am sadly proven wrong.” 

Though some of the mages accepted the deal, they were not going to accept all of the Valtrian requests. 

“Their cities are not charred fields. Their villages were not burnt and destroyed.” Ebon said. “It is only normal that they will fight for it. Those who lost almost everything will think of a chance to rebuild differently, than those who are asked to tear down what exists.”

Lausanne didn’t speak of the time when the village was ashes. A faint memory of a time when she and her mother were standing in what was a charred field of ash flashed before her eyes, and she glanced away. 

The Tower Masters thought of Blackmoore as powerful, but yet, still reachable. To them, if they worked together, maybe they had a chance. They schemed much a little too obviously. The Valthorns present were from a spread of disciplines, it wasn’t hard to pick up on what they were trying.

Even if they lost in a battle, they would not give up their posts without an attempt to wrestle it back in the dark. 

This was part of the process.

They tried to speak to the Tower Masters. Yet somehow, all of the Tower Masters seemed cut from the same cloth. They were cunning, but not very wise. Even in the face of power, they’d rather control what little they have. 

They would not be the first to change how things were.

Resistance came in many forms. For many of these Magisarians, there was a strong cultural undercurrent. 

Even in their new city, she noticed their subtle disapprovals. The clicks, the sighs, the subtle headshakes as they observed how things will be in the new city. In their minds, the Towers are still the ideal to strive for. It was a cultural relic in their mind that they will need a few generations to change. 

This was the part of her tasks that was hard. Lausanne sighed. They were there to help, but it did irritate her that those who need help seem to think they don’t. 

Hoyia gave the elf a long, warm motherly smile. The matriarch placed both of her hands on both sides of Lausanne’s shoulders, and tapped her reassuringly. “A problem that will be solved in time. Those who have not felt the touch of divinity often doubt its existence. Such is the way of mortals. The mind is hard to change, and it takes overwhelming force to overcome one’s mental inertia. Let us not dwell on the difficulties, but instead, let’s celebrate successes. Show us what you’ve done.” 

 ***

Lausanne led the group through a makeshift city built for the refugees and those who agreed to join them. Blackmoore, as the dedicated mage champion, went about and challenged all the Towers, and after he completed the tour, there were refugees and those who wanted to join them.

All in, about ten to eleven thousand Magisarians came to join the new city. Some were spies, but ultimately, the Valthorns had enough firepower and about thirty level 100s, more than enough to maintain a strong level of control over a single town. 

The Valthorns also brought in about two hundred Valtrian Order support operatives from Treehome to handle construction and development of the new city. 

“We’ve got these new wells, with these filtration trees that cleans the water.” Lausanne pointed. Ebon and the crew were fairly familiar with most of the things. Clean water was a surprisingly rare thing on Magisar, and the locals developed quite sophisticated rainwater collection systems in their magical towers to supplement the missing natural water sources. “One of the tweaks we had to make to the [rhizofiltration trees] was that the water content needed to be separated to remove some of the minerals that seemed toxic to the Magisarians. They have a zero-iron diet, and their bodies adapted to it so well that iron is now fairly harmful to them.” 

Ebon nodded. “Huh. The Landas elves seemed fairly normal. I wonder whether there is other stuff we’d have to look out for on the other worlds. Maybe the Caprans and the Dragonlings will have some unique quirks.”

Lausanne agreed as she recalled what happened during the first few days. “We only realized it after a few of them got sick. The water is fine now, but that was a rather careless blunder on our end. A proper biological study through one of Aeon’s biolabs should help.” 

“True.” Ebon walked about and noticed the homes built everywhere. There were magical shields constructed. They passed by a large farm, where the druids were in discussion with some locals over the plants. 

“Food’s a pain at first but we’re getting better. We can’t use the food from our world because of their diet, so we’d have to restrict it to native plants. But their local plants all have low yields, because they are mostly a nation of harvesters and hunters, where their cities exist as areas to protect themselves from the demons, so their local plants were not selectively bred for yields. It’ll take a generation or two to change it.” Lausanne narrated. “Even if I see these Magisarian mages as useful, I wonder whether the Order would eventually be overwhelmed with all the custom supply choices for each of these world’s recruits. Standard rations that are not standard will lead to a large surge in logistic overheads.” 

“That does limit their external deployment options, isn’t it?” Ebon thought about it, he rubbed his chin as he thought about the difficulties of keeping a Magisarian force fully supplied in remote locations. “Unless they could use familiars.”

“That’s something we’d like to try.” Lausanne elaborated. “We’ve not had a Magisarian with Aeon’s familiars, so we don’t know whether those familiars can produce Magisarian-compatible foods when they are operating out of the other worlds.” 

Food. Water. Accommodations from Magisarians were simple, though they were initially unused to all the space they now possessed. On a spiritual level, the Treeology priests provided a sort of calming effect on the populace using a mix of their various abilities. 

It is not an entirely new situation. Valthorns faced some difficulties a few decades ago when the Order started including Lizardfolk and Treefolk field agents, but over time, the logistics system absorbed their culture and it became second nature to cater for their unique needs. That said, lizardfolks were generally able to consume and tolerate a vast amount of foods and so, they were not hard to integrate. In time, it may be the Magisarians that will change, or the Order as a whole figured out how to better support them. 

Lausanne eventually led them to the walls. There were three layers of walls, and though it was quite unnecessary given the Order’s strength, it was the locals that needed convincing.

For an added sense of security, there were large magical barriers erected to give the newly settled natives a perception of security. It was partly performative, since the shields were only strong enough to protect against enemies of the demon champions level. 

Ultimately, their real defense force was the deployed Valtrian Order, and the local militia. 

“Are there native monsters?” Ebon looked about, and across the horizon. “I’ve only seen demons since we’ve arrived.”

“Yes.” Lausanne said. “But they are rare for now. They should start spawning once the druids get to work and push back the corruption. Also, since you guys are here, wanna help me get some fresh air?”

“Oh?”

Lausanne grinned, and stretched. They went on a demon hunting spree. 

***

Delvegard

It was a quiet time in the dwarven towns of Delvegard. The appeal of small towns was always its relative obscurity, and that was what drew the dwarves to live in such places. Peace. Free from the usual tussles for Sunsteel and the mines. Free from the rough, chaotic warfare that are the machine wars. 

So, the recent changes were met with mixed reactions. Not everyone wanted the attention, because it affected their peace. Yet, the Valtrian presence brought much needed food security. 

It was a tradeoff that the dwarves begrudgingly accepted, because food was a pain. Security was something that could be fixed. 

The strange dwarves from beyond brought a tree that magically grew within their town, and the locals now had to produce equipment to trade for food.

It was at a very good rate, and so that was highly appealing to the local dwarves, but it was a strange, unusual practice to trade with a ‘tree’. The central equipment purchasing hall was located right next to the [Node Tree], a dark-brown colored tree that’s six stories tall and its trunk was the size of two houses across. 

There was a cavity in the center, the place where everything appeared, and vanished. 

Even people. The ruling [Lord] Sundus found it amusing that the rumors are so crazy. It was a rumor. A curiosity. It was often whispered that people could be eaten by the tree, though they would then see those people reappear some time later. For now, it seemed as if it was a magical tree that traded food for crafts. 

If only they could see where they lead to, or the links that tree represented. He tried explaining it to the local craftsmen that it led to other worlds, but all the local dwarves did was stare at him like he was mad. 

He’d love to see their reaction when he’d send them away for the first time. It would be something he’d carve to his memories. For now, to the locals, it was a tree that traded food for crafts. Crafts and goods went in, food came out the other side. 

Of course, the locals didn’t trade with the tree directly. They traded with Sundus’s men, but the locals were curious, and they saw how his people moved the goods to that cavity, and then it just vanished. 

So, it is known to the locals as a ‘Magical Trading Tree’. 

A few locals even tried sneaking in, perhaps the result of being a little too intoxicated at the local tavern, and tried trading with the tree directly. 

One of them claimed to have heard a voice in his head. The rest of them just laughed it off as drunken hallucinations. 

Aeon would speak to them one day. Then they would know the truth. For now, they waited. Sundus knew the plan for Delvegard mainly hinged on Alka’s return. The return of the alchemist of bombs would then shift their plans on Delvegard forward.

For now, the Lord focused on shoring up their position, and setting the field. 

News, especially amusing news like the Magical Trading Tree, spread quickly. It attracted the presence of neighbors, and faraway travelers. Sundus could see them, many of them were obviously not traders, but these so-called traders pretended to visit the local market. But they tried the “Magic Trading Tree” anyway, and his men were willing to trade anyway. 

Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was curiosity. 

Dwarves were proud, but they were not stupid. Curiosities could mutate into a bigger problem. The Dwarven Lords from the nearby nations were curious, they’ve all heard of the alliance of dwarven towns. The so-called “Small Group”, backed by strange tall folks and their unusual equipment. 

Sometimes, Sundus wondered what they discovered. But so far, Valthorn’s presence remained fairly small, and spread across all the smaller towns, and they were all shrouded in a fairly thick layer of disguises to throw off most onlookers. 

After watching these spies try the trading tree and furiously write notes, Sundus decided to go and chat. They were clearly not very good spies, and their disdain leaked through their words. They were curious, but from what Sundus could tell, they were mostly not worried. 

For now, they are unusual, but nothing to be worried about.

None of the large dwarven groups have set their sights on them. They held no large Sunsteel or Sunmetal veins. They were not aware of the Valthorn’s secret mines nearby.  They didn’t have any of the Colossus war machines. 

Why should they be worried? 

Nothing they’ve seen so far threatened to upset the status quo.

Would they react differently once they met someone like Alka?

Sundus tried his best not to grin. He liked this feeling. 

He thoroughly enjoyed it when people looked down on them, only to be proven wrong. He totally couldn’t wait for the day for the domain holder to visit Delvegard.

***

Landas

Lumoof stood at the entrance to the pit, as all the domain holders gathered to purge the first visited  peripheral world of its demon king. The Demon King was down there, and he could feel its presence. 

It wasn’t digging. It was still digging a few weeks ago. But not anymore. It stopped once it sensed the heroes all reappearing nearby. It had some intelligence to know the heroes came for it.

The hero, Samuel, stood nearby, along with the rest of the heroes. Wira, and Rajah, surprisingly, decided to join them. 

“It’s down there.” Samuel, or as the locals called him, Samahiro said, his finger pointed to the pit. “I hear it calling.” 

He was stronger, but somehow, it didn’t matter. The fear was real. The impact of the demonic curse was so strong that it messed with some of the [hero] class’s usual mental protections. Lumoof nodded anyway. 

“Have no fear, Samuel.” Colette said. “You are not alone, this time.” 

Somehow, those words made Samuel tear up a little. His eyes seemed a little reddish, and he rubbed it away. It was not the time to show weakness, as he tried his best to show an expression of determination. 

“Shall we lure it out, or does it want us to go down there to it?” Colette then looked at Lumoof. 

He shrugged. “Edna?” 

“I think let’s lure it out. We’ll have better escape options fighting out here.” 

“Sounds good.” Lumoof nodded, as he walked over the edge, and fell into the pit. “Alright then. You guys wait here.” 

The heroes looked at each other, and Samuel looked worried. He didn’t need to be. The demon king wasn’t that strong, and in avatar mode, fighting underground where a tree’s roots could grow and gain control of the environment was thoroughly advantageous to Lumoof, so the demon king, predictably, chose to escape from the depths. 

The demon king came out to meet its death.

It was fast. 

It was undramatic. 

It was just a flurry of colors and lights, as so many heroes and domain holders worked together to destroy a single demon king. 

It died so quickly that the battle lasted no more than an hour. 

For that hour, the world momentarily shook as a huge surge of magic crushed the demon king, and so Landas became another peripheral world freed of its demon king.

Just like Rajah and Wira, a strange sensation vanished from Samuel’s heart. 

Everyone still had places to go. The domain holders had tasks to do. 

With Landas freed, the demonic riftgates collapsed, and the demonic invasion ended. 

Reconstruction could now go full throttle. 

***