A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every day at noon PST by ~400 words.
Wednesday, February 25, 2026
Tuesday, February 24, 2026
Page 4048
"It's no secret that he's been barely been around in recent years," said Parson. "The majority of the Vanguard's operation has fallen upon the shoulders of the marshals."
"That doesn't mean anything," said Damian. "Emperors have always been that way. They do whatever they please and leave their men to take of all the bitch work."
"Sure, but it's been different, lately. When I've seen him conversing with Jackson or Sanko or Kane, he's not been..." Parson struggled for the right word. "A leader."
Damian just stared back at him.
"He defers to their judgment instead of making his own. Almost like he's taking orders from them instead of the other way around."
Feromas jumped in again. 'Well, if he's been gallivanting off in other realms in order to combat these Primordial bastards or whatever else, then it would make sense if he is uninformed about what is currently going on in the world. In which case, it would be wise of him to listen to the people who DO know what is going on.'
Parson tilted his head but had no argument--or at least no words for it. Increasingly, it had been difficult to look upon this modern Sermung in comparison to the one he'd grown up with all throughout his formative years within the Vanguard.
Getting to meet the Crystal Titan at such a young age--thanks to serving directly under Lamont--had given Parson a rare picture of the man in his mind.
Perhaps it was his own folly, but over the years, he'd come to feel as if he knew Sermung better than almost anyone in the world.
But seeing him again in Jonah's vision just now had also been somewhat enlightening. Sermung had even mentioned him. Mentioned worrying about him.
And perhaps duly so.
Parson still needed time to organize his thoughts. This was all too much to process. He could feel himself spiraling in his own head.
Thankfully, Damian's voice pulled him out before he sunk too far.
"Well, in any case, we're still in no better condition physically than we were when we go here. We should get moving and talk on the way."
'Moving to where, exactly?' asked Feromas.
"That's supposed to be your jobs to figure out, you reaper pricks."
'Maybe he really IS back to his old self,' said Overra.
'Well, we need a place where the two of you can recover, but without knowing more about what Morgunov has done to you, how are we supposed to find such a place?'
"That doesn't mean anything," said Damian. "Emperors have always been that way. They do whatever they please and leave their men to take of all the bitch work."
"Sure, but it's been different, lately. When I've seen him conversing with Jackson or Sanko or Kane, he's not been..." Parson struggled for the right word. "A leader."
Damian just stared back at him.
"He defers to their judgment instead of making his own. Almost like he's taking orders from them instead of the other way around."
Feromas jumped in again. 'Well, if he's been gallivanting off in other realms in order to combat these Primordial bastards or whatever else, then it would make sense if he is uninformed about what is currently going on in the world. In which case, it would be wise of him to listen to the people who DO know what is going on.'
Parson tilted his head but had no argument--or at least no words for it. Increasingly, it had been difficult to look upon this modern Sermung in comparison to the one he'd grown up with all throughout his formative years within the Vanguard.
Getting to meet the Crystal Titan at such a young age--thanks to serving directly under Lamont--had given Parson a rare picture of the man in his mind.
Perhaps it was his own folly, but over the years, he'd come to feel as if he knew Sermung better than almost anyone in the world.
But seeing him again in Jonah's vision just now had also been somewhat enlightening. Sermung had even mentioned him. Mentioned worrying about him.
And perhaps duly so.
Parson still needed time to organize his thoughts. This was all too much to process. He could feel himself spiraling in his own head.
Thankfully, Damian's voice pulled him out before he sunk too far.
"Well, in any case, we're still in no better condition physically than we were when we go here. We should get moving and talk on the way."
'Moving to where, exactly?' asked Feromas.
"That's supposed to be your jobs to figure out, you reaper pricks."
'Maybe he really IS back to his old self,' said Overra.
'Well, we need a place where the two of you can recover, but without knowing more about what Morgunov has done to you, how are we supposed to find such a place?'
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