That was a surprise. It was the first time Loren had seen anyone do any damage to Caster at all. The man had since recovered, but it hadn’t been as quick as it should’ve been. Caster had barely been able to move his arm for days, and there was now a lingering scar on the right side of his neck.
Loren wasn’t even sure how it had all gone down, precisely. Everything had happened so fast, and there’d been such blindingly bright lights...
But one thing he did know was that Caster had saved his life. In a blink, the fight had been over, but only afterwards had Loren noticed that the woman was standing right there next to him with a thin, fiery knife mere centimeters away from Rezolo’s intangible body.
If Caster hadn’t already been standing next to her, having apparently crushed her skull in his bloody hand, then Loren was certain that he and Rezolo would both be dead, right now.
When Loren had asked him later why she’d tried to kill them, the man did not tell him much.
“It’s difficult to explain,” Caster had said. “Let’s just say... you reminded her of someone she hates.”
Loren hadn’t much cared for that reasoning, but he’d gained no further elaboration on the matter since then. Caster was being even more evasive than usual. Rezolo had tried asking Kalikos instead, but that hadn’t turned out any better.
‘The Hollow Witch hated children to the bone. Or so she claimed, for many years, until she eventually had one of her own. But due to her capricious nature, the boy grew to despise her; and when he was a man grown, he left her all alone. Now she wiles away her time in silent misery, imagining worldly wonders and dreaming of wealth; but in the end, the one she hates most of all will always be herself.’
Whatever the case was, Loren and Rezolo had given up trying to figure it out. They’d both begun to realize that traveling with Caster Egmond and Kalikos was not going to be the journey of fantastic discovery that they might’ve hoped it would be.
Now they were wondering if they’d made a mistake in deciding to follow them. It was hard to tell what Rezolo’s true feelings were on the matter, as the reaper also happened to be someone who did not enjoy explaining himself, but for his part, at least, Loren was just trying to pay attention to everything he could.
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every day at noon PST by ~400 words.
Wednesday, April 30, 2025
Tuesday, April 29, 2025
Page 3843
‘Nice to meet you,’ said Garovel. ‘Apologies if we have unsettled you. You can be assured that we mean you no harm. As long as you do not attack us or any civilians, we will not attack you.’
The man made no response.
-+-+-+-+-
Loren Lighteyes was uncomfortable. And yet also not. There was conflict in his heart, and he wasn’t entirely sure where it was coming from.
Which was a warning sign, he’d come to believe. Whenever he felt this type of unexplained anxiety, especially upon meeting a new person, it was a warning sign. His mutated body’s way of telling him to be careful.
He hadn’t started believing this so strongly until quite recently. His trips around the continent with Caster Egmond had allowed him to meet some very strange people, many of whom turned out to be far more dangerous than they at first seemed.
Of course, it had always been a general concern of his to be wary of others. That wasn’t anything new. Nor was it a great revelation that particularly powerful servants often gave off an uncomfortable, oppressive air. He’d met Dozer and Gohvis before, after all.
But this was something else. Something much quieter. If meeting one of those guys was like hearing alarm bells going off for a tornado warning, then meeting someone like this was like hearing the wind pick up and seeing storm clouds on the horizon.
Definitely not the same. But maybe not so different, either. Maybe more deadly, actually, just because he didn’t know if he should be fleeing or not.
Certainly, this armored guy and his reaper seemed amicable enough so far, but that could always change in a heartbeat.
After their escape from Corrico, they had visited a number of odd places as Caster continued to search for ground that was “suitable” to build his “tower” on.
They’d met a woman in Dante who had been perfectly lovely and sweet to them, if a bit peculiar. She offered to let them stay a few days in her little cottage in the mountains. She’d cooked for them, had pleasant conversation with them regarding philosophy, and even washed their clothes for them. At one point, Loren had started to wonder if the mysterious woman might’ve actually been Caster’s secret wife or lover.
Until she attacked them in the middle of the night, destroying the cottage in an instant and even wounding Caster in the process.
The man made no response.
-+-+-+-+-
Loren Lighteyes was uncomfortable. And yet also not. There was conflict in his heart, and he wasn’t entirely sure where it was coming from.
Which was a warning sign, he’d come to believe. Whenever he felt this type of unexplained anxiety, especially upon meeting a new person, it was a warning sign. His mutated body’s way of telling him to be careful.
He hadn’t started believing this so strongly until quite recently. His trips around the continent with Caster Egmond had allowed him to meet some very strange people, many of whom turned out to be far more dangerous than they at first seemed.
Of course, it had always been a general concern of his to be wary of others. That wasn’t anything new. Nor was it a great revelation that particularly powerful servants often gave off an uncomfortable, oppressive air. He’d met Dozer and Gohvis before, after all.
But this was something else. Something much quieter. If meeting one of those guys was like hearing alarm bells going off for a tornado warning, then meeting someone like this was like hearing the wind pick up and seeing storm clouds on the horizon.
Definitely not the same. But maybe not so different, either. Maybe more deadly, actually, just because he didn’t know if he should be fleeing or not.
Certainly, this armored guy and his reaper seemed amicable enough so far, but that could always change in a heartbeat.
After their escape from Corrico, they had visited a number of odd places as Caster continued to search for ground that was “suitable” to build his “tower” on.
They’d met a woman in Dante who had been perfectly lovely and sweet to them, if a bit peculiar. She offered to let them stay a few days in her little cottage in the mountains. She’d cooked for them, had pleasant conversation with them regarding philosophy, and even washed their clothes for them. At one point, Loren had started to wonder if the mysterious woman might’ve actually been Caster’s secret wife or lover.
Until she attacked them in the middle of the night, destroying the cottage in an instant and even wounding Caster in the process.
Sunday, April 27, 2025
Next page on the 29th
Thanks for readings, everybody. And for reading, too. That's right. I totally meant to make it plural.
Saturday, April 26, 2025
Page 3842
Hector held his ground, not moving back but also not moving closer. He wanted to get a clearer read on this stranger’s aura before doing anything else. It didn’t feel menacing or angry. Not hostile or hungry.
Rather, it was quite cold. Wary. And patient. Waiting on him now. Not intending to do anything until he did.
‘Y’know, I really wanna be the one to break the ice and say hi,’ said Garovel, still privately, ‘but I also realize that, from now on, you should probably be the one greeting any dangerous and mysterious strangers we happen across.’
Well, Hector didn’t disagree.
Garovel wasn’t done, though. ‘I realize that, yes? So in exchange, I hope YOU realize just how incredibly mature I am being, right now. How much self-control I have. Right? I’m right, aren’t I? Tell me how right I am. Compliment me, dammit.’
‘You are incredibly right, Garovel.’
‘Aw, thanks, pal.’
Hector offered the stranger a wave. “Hello!” he said from afar, still staying put.
The stranger said nothing, but after a moment, he did offer a return wave.
Hmm. “Are you the one who rescued this ship?” By the look of the thing, Hector actually wasn’t yet sure if ‘rescued’ was going to end up being the correct term for whatever had happened here, but he felt like that was the most diplomatic word to be using here.
Until he discovered otherwise, at least.
There arrived a long pause. Then the stranger said, “No. It wasn’t me.” It was indeed a masculine voice, just as Hector had thought.
“...Then can you tell me what happened here?” said Hector. He decided to test the waters a bit and take a step closer.
Rather than answering, however, the stranger decided to pose his own questions. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
He supposed that was only fair. He was a foreigner in this country, after all. “My name is Hector,” he said. “I saw this ship during the storms and tried to help the people on board. Then it disappeared and ended up here. I’d like to know how that happened.”
“...You are concerned for the passengers.”
“That’s right,” said Hector. “Do you know if they’re okay?”
“There were casualties, but most of them survived. Would have been much worse if the ship had been left out there, I’m sure.”
“I see. But you weren’t the one who moved the ship?”
“Yes.”
And Hector waited, but the man did not elaborate further. He pursed his lips inside his helmet, wondering how next to approach this conversation.
Garovel decided to step in now. ‘What’s your name, stranger?’
And there was another long pause, until the man finally said, “...Loren.”
Rather, it was quite cold. Wary. And patient. Waiting on him now. Not intending to do anything until he did.
‘Y’know, I really wanna be the one to break the ice and say hi,’ said Garovel, still privately, ‘but I also realize that, from now on, you should probably be the one greeting any dangerous and mysterious strangers we happen across.’
Well, Hector didn’t disagree.
Garovel wasn’t done, though. ‘I realize that, yes? So in exchange, I hope YOU realize just how incredibly mature I am being, right now. How much self-control I have. Right? I’m right, aren’t I? Tell me how right I am. Compliment me, dammit.’
‘You are incredibly right, Garovel.’
‘Aw, thanks, pal.’
Hector offered the stranger a wave. “Hello!” he said from afar, still staying put.
The stranger said nothing, but after a moment, he did offer a return wave.
Hmm. “Are you the one who rescued this ship?” By the look of the thing, Hector actually wasn’t yet sure if ‘rescued’ was going to end up being the correct term for whatever had happened here, but he felt like that was the most diplomatic word to be using here.
Until he discovered otherwise, at least.
There arrived a long pause. Then the stranger said, “No. It wasn’t me.” It was indeed a masculine voice, just as Hector had thought.
“...Then can you tell me what happened here?” said Hector. He decided to test the waters a bit and take a step closer.
Rather than answering, however, the stranger decided to pose his own questions. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
He supposed that was only fair. He was a foreigner in this country, after all. “My name is Hector,” he said. “I saw this ship during the storms and tried to help the people on board. Then it disappeared and ended up here. I’d like to know how that happened.”
“...You are concerned for the passengers.”
“That’s right,” said Hector. “Do you know if they’re okay?”
“There were casualties, but most of them survived. Would have been much worse if the ship had been left out there, I’m sure.”
“I see. But you weren’t the one who moved the ship?”
“Yes.”
And Hector waited, but the man did not elaborate further. He pursed his lips inside his helmet, wondering how next to approach this conversation.
Garovel decided to step in now. ‘What’s your name, stranger?’
And there was another long pause, until the man finally said, “...Loren.”
Friday, April 25, 2025
Page 3841
Without a trace, it was simply gone. Disappeared from not only his sight but also his and Garovel’s extra senses, as well. They had no idea what happened to it.
That was, until three entire days later, upon a return visit to Boland.
Somehow, it had ended up on land--specifically, on a massive plateau that was miles from where he’d last seen it. In fact, the only reason Hector even found it again was because the coastline itself had been shifted by the waves, forcing him to head further inland in his search for anyone in trouble.
Thankfully, he hadn’t found anyone in need of it at the time, but when he investigated the ship a bit, he and Garovel discovered that there was no one aboard. Not even any wandering souls from the recently deceased.
They hadn’t spent much longer on the mystery, since the crisis had still been ongoing, but the whole affair had certainly left a lasting impression on him. And now, as he neared that very same plateau again, he indeed discovered that the ship was still there.
But it was a bit different, he thought. It had shifted. Sunken deeper into the ground. And was part of it missing?
Yes. From the air, he could get a good view. Its furthest tip was sheared off. In an abnormal way, too. It didn’t look like it had broken naturally at all. It looked, instead, like someone had taken a giant blade and sliced through its metal body like warm butter.
What in the world?
‘I sense someone here this time,’ said Garovel privately.
Oh boy. Hector hesitated in the air, mulling his options over. He couldn’t help his curiosity, but he also didn’t want to make this decision without Garovel’s approval. He’d been doing that a little too frequently as of late, he felt.
‘Should we get a closer look?’ said Hector.
‘Huh? Are you kidding me? Of course we should! I’m dyin’ to know who did this shit!’
Abruptly, Hector wondered why he’d even bothered asking.
He touched down next to the ship, and with a bit more direction from Garovel, he soon saw the figure next to the hull. Right by the sheared off section.
And they were already staring right back at him.
It was hard to tell, given they were standing in the long shadow cast by the ship, but he was fairly certain that it was a man.
But it was decidedly not hard to tell that those eyes were indeed looking at him. They were unlike any Hector had seen. Or at least, not since he visited the Undercrust.
These eyes were glowing in the dark.
That was, until three entire days later, upon a return visit to Boland.
Somehow, it had ended up on land--specifically, on a massive plateau that was miles from where he’d last seen it. In fact, the only reason Hector even found it again was because the coastline itself had been shifted by the waves, forcing him to head further inland in his search for anyone in trouble.
Thankfully, he hadn’t found anyone in need of it at the time, but when he investigated the ship a bit, he and Garovel discovered that there was no one aboard. Not even any wandering souls from the recently deceased.
They hadn’t spent much longer on the mystery, since the crisis had still been ongoing, but the whole affair had certainly left a lasting impression on him. And now, as he neared that very same plateau again, he indeed discovered that the ship was still there.
But it was a bit different, he thought. It had shifted. Sunken deeper into the ground. And was part of it missing?
Yes. From the air, he could get a good view. Its furthest tip was sheared off. In an abnormal way, too. It didn’t look like it had broken naturally at all. It looked, instead, like someone had taken a giant blade and sliced through its metal body like warm butter.
What in the world?
‘I sense someone here this time,’ said Garovel privately.
Oh boy. Hector hesitated in the air, mulling his options over. He couldn’t help his curiosity, but he also didn’t want to make this decision without Garovel’s approval. He’d been doing that a little too frequently as of late, he felt.
‘Should we get a closer look?’ said Hector.
‘Huh? Are you kidding me? Of course we should! I’m dyin’ to know who did this shit!’
Abruptly, Hector wondered why he’d even bothered asking.
He touched down next to the ship, and with a bit more direction from Garovel, he soon saw the figure next to the hull. Right by the sheared off section.
And they were already staring right back at him.
It was hard to tell, given they were standing in the long shadow cast by the ship, but he was fairly certain that it was a man.
But it was decidedly not hard to tell that those eyes were indeed looking at him. They were unlike any Hector had seen. Or at least, not since he visited the Undercrust.
These eyes were glowing in the dark.
Thursday, April 24, 2025
Page 3840
That being said, he did still decide to head all the way down to Boland again. It was also quite far, but the coasts of that country had very much needed his help while Vaeland and Korgum had not.
In Korgum’s case, it had the advantage of a natural mountain range along the coast, protecting it completely from the waves, while Vaeland apparently just had some incredible defenders to protect it. He might’ve liked to meet said defenders, but without having actually offered them any aid during the crisis, he didn’t feel like he had any right to do so.
He did wonder if it had all been Vaeland’s doing, though. Garovel ruminated on the subject a bit while they were in flight. Korgum was famous for having a strong Vanguardian presence, so perhaps they had gone down to Vaeland in order to protect it, since Korgum itself had no such worries. Coupled with the fact that the Nualist Repulic of Dozer--Korgum’s long-held enemy--must have been quite busy at the time with its own exposed eastern coastline, the reaper’s reasoning made for a compelling argument, Hector thought.
Vaeland would’ve also been a reasonable choice for the Vanguardian forces, since it was the one most in danger, given its many defenseless islands.
Or maybe it really was just Vaeland’s own defenders. The Vanguard did still have its hands full with the war, after all.
Whatever the real explanation was, he had plenty of time to wonder about it during the flight across the Gulf. But in the end, all that wondering just made him more curious to visit Vaeland one day and see for himself.
It also helped that it was supposedly one of the most beautiful places in the world.
But oh well.
He was pleased to see that the coasts of Boland were finally calm. On the very first day of these outings, he’d found a giant cruise liner getting carried along the even-more-giant waves as if it weighed no more than a tugboat.
With the way the thing had been getting knocked around, Hector had dreaded to imagine what might’ve become of the poor passengers aboard, but he’d still done his best to steady it and pull it to safety. Unfortunately, it had been way too massive for him to just lift it out of the water and carry to safety on a hovering platform, but at least he’d been able to shield it from getting battered by any more waves.
That was, until it completely disappeared, right before his eyes.
In Korgum’s case, it had the advantage of a natural mountain range along the coast, protecting it completely from the waves, while Vaeland apparently just had some incredible defenders to protect it. He might’ve liked to meet said defenders, but without having actually offered them any aid during the crisis, he didn’t feel like he had any right to do so.
He did wonder if it had all been Vaeland’s doing, though. Garovel ruminated on the subject a bit while they were in flight. Korgum was famous for having a strong Vanguardian presence, so perhaps they had gone down to Vaeland in order to protect it, since Korgum itself had no such worries. Coupled with the fact that the Nualist Repulic of Dozer--Korgum’s long-held enemy--must have been quite busy at the time with its own exposed eastern coastline, the reaper’s reasoning made for a compelling argument, Hector thought.
Vaeland would’ve also been a reasonable choice for the Vanguardian forces, since it was the one most in danger, given its many defenseless islands.
Or maybe it really was just Vaeland’s own defenders. The Vanguard did still have its hands full with the war, after all.
Whatever the real explanation was, he had plenty of time to wonder about it during the flight across the Gulf. But in the end, all that wondering just made him more curious to visit Vaeland one day and see for himself.
It also helped that it was supposedly one of the most beautiful places in the world.
But oh well.
He was pleased to see that the coasts of Boland were finally calm. On the very first day of these outings, he’d found a giant cruise liner getting carried along the even-more-giant waves as if it weighed no more than a tugboat.
With the way the thing had been getting knocked around, Hector had dreaded to imagine what might’ve become of the poor passengers aboard, but he’d still done his best to steady it and pull it to safety. Unfortunately, it had been way too massive for him to just lift it out of the water and carry to safety on a hovering platform, but at least he’d been able to shield it from getting battered by any more waves.
That was, until it completely disappeared, right before his eyes.
Wednesday, April 23, 2025
Page 3839
Nicholae seemed amused now. “You’re a modest fellow, aren’t you?”
What the heck? Again, Hector didn’t know what to say. This seemed to happen to him a lot, he was realizing. Maybe he should figure out some way of dealing with it in the future.
“That’s alright,” said Nicholae. “No need to say anything. I feel like I already know all I need to about you.”
“...You’re a very strange man,” said Hector.
“People keep telling me that. Apologies if I said something to make you uncomfortable. I do that a lot, apparently. But it’s usually almost always unintentional. Most of the time.”
“Uh... huh...”
‘Ask about the political situation in Azirat,’ said Garovel, again privately.
“Er. Um. How are things here in Azirat politically?”
“Oh, now there’s a heavy question. How much time have you got?”
“Heh. Not that much, I’m afraid.”
“Not planning on sticking around for a while, huh? That’s a shame. I would’ve treated you to the finest Azirati cuisine you’ve ever tasted.”
“That does sound tempting,” said Hector. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Perhaps the political conversation should wait until then, too. I’d talk your ear off about that subject if you let me. Better to do it over a hearty meal. How about we exchange contact info?” And he whipped out his phone from within his black jacket.
Hector clicked his tongue. “Ah... I’d love to, but mine broke recently, and I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.”
“Aha. I see. Not to worry, then.” With a flourish of his left hand, a metallic card materialized into it, and he offered it to Hector.
Blinking, Hector took it and inspected it more closely. It had a distinctive blue sheen, but a string of embossed numbers was clearly visible on it. As were the words ‘Nicholae R. Medan, Attorney at Law.’
Wow.
Hector felt like he should steal that trick for himself, though he wasn’t sure what he would put on it.
From there, the conversation didn’t last much longer. Hector made an equivalent invitation to come visit Warrenhold in Atreya, and then he was off, wanting to complete this final patrol and head home. He was running on fumes, having once again gone several days without rest, and he was very much looking forward to that giant bed of his in the Tower of Night.
He wanted to venture back down to Vaeland again to check on things there, but he couldn’t really justify it to himself. As much as he’d played down the distances between these countries to Nicholae, Hector was still aware of how much of a commitment these flights were. His speed had definitely improved over the past few days, but he still wasn’t that fast. Not like Abbas in that crazy armor of his.
What the heck? Again, Hector didn’t know what to say. This seemed to happen to him a lot, he was realizing. Maybe he should figure out some way of dealing with it in the future.
“That’s alright,” said Nicholae. “No need to say anything. I feel like I already know all I need to about you.”
“...You’re a very strange man,” said Hector.
“People keep telling me that. Apologies if I said something to make you uncomfortable. I do that a lot, apparently. But it’s usually almost always unintentional. Most of the time.”
“Uh... huh...”
‘Ask about the political situation in Azirat,’ said Garovel, again privately.
“Er. Um. How are things here in Azirat politically?”
“Oh, now there’s a heavy question. How much time have you got?”
“Heh. Not that much, I’m afraid.”
“Not planning on sticking around for a while, huh? That’s a shame. I would’ve treated you to the finest Azirati cuisine you’ve ever tasted.”
“That does sound tempting,” said Hector. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Perhaps the political conversation should wait until then, too. I’d talk your ear off about that subject if you let me. Better to do it over a hearty meal. How about we exchange contact info?” And he whipped out his phone from within his black jacket.
Hector clicked his tongue. “Ah... I’d love to, but mine broke recently, and I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.”
“Aha. I see. Not to worry, then.” With a flourish of his left hand, a metallic card materialized into it, and he offered it to Hector.
Blinking, Hector took it and inspected it more closely. It had a distinctive blue sheen, but a string of embossed numbers was clearly visible on it. As were the words ‘Nicholae R. Medan, Attorney at Law.’
Wow.
Hector felt like he should steal that trick for himself, though he wasn’t sure what he would put on it.
From there, the conversation didn’t last much longer. Hector made an equivalent invitation to come visit Warrenhold in Atreya, and then he was off, wanting to complete this final patrol and head home. He was running on fumes, having once again gone several days without rest, and he was very much looking forward to that giant bed of his in the Tower of Night.
He wanted to venture back down to Vaeland again to check on things there, but he couldn’t really justify it to himself. As much as he’d played down the distances between these countries to Nicholae, Hector was still aware of how much of a commitment these flights were. His speed had definitely improved over the past few days, but he still wasn’t that fast. Not like Abbas in that crazy armor of his.
Tuesday, April 22, 2025
Page 3838
“Atreya is quite some way from here, is it not?” said Nicholae. “I would have thought you would be too busy taking care of matters there in order to venture such a distance.”
“It’s not that far,” said Hector, thinking of the other day when he’d flown all the way down to Vaeland. “Just on the other side of the Gulf. And besides, Atreya has hardly been affected by the waves at all. We’ve been fortunate.”
“That so? Huh.” The man scratched his temple and smiled sheepishly. “I suppose my poor grasp of geography is showing. I should confess: I’m not actually sure which of those countries out east is Atreya. They all kind of blend together for me.”
“...It’s out west, actually,” said Hector.
A beat passed. “...Oh. I, um. I also get east and west confused, apparently.”
Hector returned a faint chuckle. “You’re not lost right now, are you?”
“Now that you mention it...” He shook his head and laughed, too. “I’m just kidding. But thank you for your concern.”
‘Ask about the situation in Azirat,’ said Garovel privately.
“How are things here in Azirat?” said Hector. It didn’t escape Hector’s notice that the reaper could’ve simply asked the man himself and yet chose not to.
“Regarding the aftermath? A bit chaotic but still smooth, I’d say. Hard to complain when we know how much worse off certain other places must have it. Even just here in the Gulf. I’m sure Vaeland has had a rough go of it.”
Hector bobbed his head to the side a little. “Actually, from what I’ve seen, Vaeland is doing alright.”
Nicholae blinked. “Really? Even with all those islands?”
“I was surprised, too,” said Hector. “But it seems like they’ve got some real strong servants over there to protect them. I saw walls that were literally like mountains.”
“Wow. If it was enough to impress you, then it must’ve really been something.”
Hector balked, unsure how to respond.
Nicholae looked abruptly confused. “...You do realize how amazing what you did here was, right? That floodwall you repaired four days ago ended up saving hundreds of lives.”
...Had it really been that many? Hector tried to think back, but the last few days were kind of a blur. And honestly, Azirat wasn’t that intense in his memory. It was Mara and Boland that had gotten truly crazy, he felt.
“I’d been patching holes in it for hours when you suddenly showed up and slammed down an entire new coating for it like it was nothing.”
...Huh.
“It’s not that far,” said Hector, thinking of the other day when he’d flown all the way down to Vaeland. “Just on the other side of the Gulf. And besides, Atreya has hardly been affected by the waves at all. We’ve been fortunate.”
“That so? Huh.” The man scratched his temple and smiled sheepishly. “I suppose my poor grasp of geography is showing. I should confess: I’m not actually sure which of those countries out east is Atreya. They all kind of blend together for me.”
“...It’s out west, actually,” said Hector.
A beat passed. “...Oh. I, um. I also get east and west confused, apparently.”
Hector returned a faint chuckle. “You’re not lost right now, are you?”
“Now that you mention it...” He shook his head and laughed, too. “I’m just kidding. But thank you for your concern.”
‘Ask about the situation in Azirat,’ said Garovel privately.
“How are things here in Azirat?” said Hector. It didn’t escape Hector’s notice that the reaper could’ve simply asked the man himself and yet chose not to.
“Regarding the aftermath? A bit chaotic but still smooth, I’d say. Hard to complain when we know how much worse off certain other places must have it. Even just here in the Gulf. I’m sure Vaeland has had a rough go of it.”
Hector bobbed his head to the side a little. “Actually, from what I’ve seen, Vaeland is doing alright.”
Nicholae blinked. “Really? Even with all those islands?”
“I was surprised, too,” said Hector. “But it seems like they’ve got some real strong servants over there to protect them. I saw walls that were literally like mountains.”
“Wow. If it was enough to impress you, then it must’ve really been something.”
Hector balked, unsure how to respond.
Nicholae looked abruptly confused. “...You do realize how amazing what you did here was, right? That floodwall you repaired four days ago ended up saving hundreds of lives.”
...Had it really been that many? Hector tried to think back, but the last few days were kind of a blur. And honestly, Azirat wasn’t that intense in his memory. It was Mara and Boland that had gotten truly crazy, he felt.
“I’d been patching holes in it for hours when you suddenly showed up and slammed down an entire new coating for it like it was nothing.”
...Huh.
Monday, April 21, 2025
Page 3837
If it was this bad all the way out here, then the Rainlords must’ve been dealing with some truly horrific sights. Perhaps it was better that they were not here. He knew there would be many people in that region who needed their help.
Thankfully, Hector did manage to find plenty of survivors, too, which was always a relieving sight. And oddly enough, they were usually in pretty good physical condition. Not many injuries to speak of.
Garovel seemed to think it was due to how extreme the danger was here. ‘There’s no getting “grazed” by surging floodwaters,’ the reaper said. ‘You either avoid them or you die.’
Hector didn’t much care for how callous that line of thinking felt, but he also found it difficult to argue against.
However, the thing that Hector found the most surprising over these days of mayhem was that he, Roman Fullister, and Ravi Zaman were not the only servants out here. Which was rather heartening to know.
There wasn’t time to exchange greetings or make introductions, but a nod of acknowledgment or a wave of gratitude after a particularly gnarly mess had been taken care of was enough for Hector to feel like he was getting to know these strangers pretty well, even if he never learned any of their names. It also helped that he saw them multiple times each over the several days of madness.
And eventually, when the waves began to die down and everything started to settle, Hector could recognize the other servants by their faces alone.
It was while he was out on one final patrol of the Gulf when he started to meet some of them properly.
“I was hoping to see you again,” said a tall man with chiseled features and long, strawberry blond hair. He reached out for a handshake as Hector touched down gently in front of him, atop a hill overlooking a flooded valley along the coast of Azirat.
If there was one good thing in all this, perhaps it was that Hector had gotten in plenty of extra practice with his flying. Making such a soft, controlled landing was a pretty nice feeling, for a change.
Still fully armored, Hector took the handshake. “Same here,” he said. “I’m Hector Goffe of Atreya. And you?”
“I am Nicholae Medan. Of Azirat, I suppose. Thank you for all your help over these past few days.” The man didn’t have even a whiff of a Valgan accent, which Hector found a little surprising.
Thankfully, Hector did manage to find plenty of survivors, too, which was always a relieving sight. And oddly enough, they were usually in pretty good physical condition. Not many injuries to speak of.
Garovel seemed to think it was due to how extreme the danger was here. ‘There’s no getting “grazed” by surging floodwaters,’ the reaper said. ‘You either avoid them or you die.’
Hector didn’t much care for how callous that line of thinking felt, but he also found it difficult to argue against.
However, the thing that Hector found the most surprising over these days of mayhem was that he, Roman Fullister, and Ravi Zaman were not the only servants out here. Which was rather heartening to know.
There wasn’t time to exchange greetings or make introductions, but a nod of acknowledgment or a wave of gratitude after a particularly gnarly mess had been taken care of was enough for Hector to feel like he was getting to know these strangers pretty well, even if he never learned any of their names. It also helped that he saw them multiple times each over the several days of madness.
And eventually, when the waves began to die down and everything started to settle, Hector could recognize the other servants by their faces alone.
It was while he was out on one final patrol of the Gulf when he started to meet some of them properly.
“I was hoping to see you again,” said a tall man with chiseled features and long, strawberry blond hair. He reached out for a handshake as Hector touched down gently in front of him, atop a hill overlooking a flooded valley along the coast of Azirat.
If there was one good thing in all this, perhaps it was that Hector had gotten in plenty of extra practice with his flying. Making such a soft, controlled landing was a pretty nice feeling, for a change.
Still fully armored, Hector took the handshake. “Same here,” he said. “I’m Hector Goffe of Atreya. And you?”
“I am Nicholae Medan. Of Azirat, I suppose. Thank you for all your help over these past few days.” The man didn’t have even a whiff of a Valgan accent, which Hector found a little surprising.
Sunday, April 20, 2025
Page 3836
Unfortunately, that wasn’t always possible. It was quite a commitment of his limited iron resources, for one thing: building entire mountain paths to funnel the water up through. And for another, sometimes there just wasn’t enough space to work with. When a settlement was right on the coastline, for example, he couldn’t create a pathway anywhere at all. Not on land, anyway.
Which brought him to the idea of materializing giant hills and pathways underwater, before the waves even reached the coast. It sort of worked, but it wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped it would be. Without knowing how deep the water was, the task was flatly impossible, which meant that he had to dive down into the storming waters in order to see what was going on.
And that just wasn’t feasible, most of the time. The seas were way too rough, and he hadn’t tested his flying armor underwater before.
He still ended up trying, though. A few different times, in truth. It usually went poorly, but he just tried to think of it as yet another learning experience. On-the-job training, so to speak.
He might’ve been more comfortable with it if he’d ever learned how to swim. That was definitely an oversight, even if drowning wasn’t really a problem for him.
On the whole, Hector’s days spent over the Gulf of Emerson were absolute madness. Grueling, brutal madness. Whenever he found another town-sized grouping of debris in the water, his heart filled with dread at what he would see when flying down for a closer look.
It was never good.
So many buildings were just gone. Reduced to piles of floating rubble.
And the bodies. He began losing count after a while. But at least he was able to retrieve them easily enough, lifting them out of the water in iron coffins. He wasn’t sure what to do with them all just yet, so he’d been finding various dry spots on high ground and stacking them there. He had Garovel remember where they all were so that he could return for them later, once things had finally settled down, and then hopefully try to turn them over to the local authorities for identification.
He could only imagine how much worse it would’ve been if the evacuation orders hadn’t been sent out in time. From what he’d heard before departing Warrenhold, that was exactly the case for many places that bordered the Luthic Ocean directly. Such as Vantalay and Steccat.
Which brought him to the idea of materializing giant hills and pathways underwater, before the waves even reached the coast. It sort of worked, but it wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped it would be. Without knowing how deep the water was, the task was flatly impossible, which meant that he had to dive down into the storming waters in order to see what was going on.
And that just wasn’t feasible, most of the time. The seas were way too rough, and he hadn’t tested his flying armor underwater before.
He still ended up trying, though. A few different times, in truth. It usually went poorly, but he just tried to think of it as yet another learning experience. On-the-job training, so to speak.
He might’ve been more comfortable with it if he’d ever learned how to swim. That was definitely an oversight, even if drowning wasn’t really a problem for him.
On the whole, Hector’s days spent over the Gulf of Emerson were absolute madness. Grueling, brutal madness. Whenever he found another town-sized grouping of debris in the water, his heart filled with dread at what he would see when flying down for a closer look.
It was never good.
So many buildings were just gone. Reduced to piles of floating rubble.
And the bodies. He began losing count after a while. But at least he was able to retrieve them easily enough, lifting them out of the water in iron coffins. He wasn’t sure what to do with them all just yet, so he’d been finding various dry spots on high ground and stacking them there. He had Garovel remember where they all were so that he could return for them later, once things had finally settled down, and then hopefully try to turn them over to the local authorities for identification.
He could only imagine how much worse it would’ve been if the evacuation orders hadn’t been sent out in time. From what he’d heard before departing Warrenhold, that was exactly the case for many places that bordered the Luthic Ocean directly. Such as Vantalay and Steccat.
Saturday, April 19, 2025
Page 3835
Regardless, this work of trying to stop tidal waves felt both familiar and totally new. He was certainly no stranger to materializing giant slabs of iron in order to wall areas off and protect people--not to mention all his sparring sessions with the Water Dragon of Sair--but this was also on a scale that was entirely unprecedented for him.
The sheer amount of seawater that he was dealing with was almost unfathomable.
Try as he might, he simply could not materialize enough iron. Never before had he run into the problem of his volume limit like this. It had been a long while since he’d even had to think about that in the first place, but here and now, he was being made keenly aware of just how weak he truly was in the grand scheme of things.
And to think, he’d actually been growing somewhat confident in his strength, recently. What with the victory over Banda Toro, the acquisition of this new armor, as well as the Living Core...
All of his training and techniques and artifacts of power...
None of it was enough to stop just a really big wave. Not completely, anyway.
He learned quickly that he had to be more precise with the use of his iron. He needed to be efficient with his volume limit. Trying to protect every coastline was a futile endeavor. But a coastal hamlet? Or an island with a few houses on it? Or a poor tugboat out in the middle of all this?
Those deserved the entirety of his efforts. As much iron as he could muster. Truly colossal walls or platforms to divert the oncoming water.
It also reinforced the importance of geometry to him, as well. He was glad he’d been studying that more, as of late. Just making the walls flat would’ve made them much easier for the waves to batter down. Better to make them angular and pointed so that the waves would hit them and then split apart, sent off in different directions. And from there, he could focus on trying to manage the overall flow of the seawater.
Making hills was another valuable strategy, he found. Rather than trying to endure the ridiculous impact forces of these neverending waves, it was often better to pull them upward for a while and let those forces gradually weaken as they fought against gravity.
The sheer amount of seawater that he was dealing with was almost unfathomable.
Try as he might, he simply could not materialize enough iron. Never before had he run into the problem of his volume limit like this. It had been a long while since he’d even had to think about that in the first place, but here and now, he was being made keenly aware of just how weak he truly was in the grand scheme of things.
And to think, he’d actually been growing somewhat confident in his strength, recently. What with the victory over Banda Toro, the acquisition of this new armor, as well as the Living Core...
All of his training and techniques and artifacts of power...
None of it was enough to stop just a really big wave. Not completely, anyway.
He learned quickly that he had to be more precise with the use of his iron. He needed to be efficient with his volume limit. Trying to protect every coastline was a futile endeavor. But a coastal hamlet? Or an island with a few houses on it? Or a poor tugboat out in the middle of all this?
Those deserved the entirety of his efforts. As much iron as he could muster. Truly colossal walls or platforms to divert the oncoming water.
It also reinforced the importance of geometry to him, as well. He was glad he’d been studying that more, as of late. Just making the walls flat would’ve made them much easier for the waves to batter down. Better to make them angular and pointed so that the waves would hit them and then split apart, sent off in different directions. And from there, he could focus on trying to manage the overall flow of the seawater.
Making hills was another valuable strategy, he found. Rather than trying to endure the ridiculous impact forces of these neverending waves, it was often better to pull them upward for a while and let those forces gradually weaken as they fought against gravity.
Friday, April 18, 2025
Page 3834
He’d just returned to Warrenhold when news of the storm in the Luthic Ocean first reached him. Hurricane Deva, they’d dubbed it. Nothing terribly abnormal, by all accounts. The Luthic brewed up hurricanes dozens of times every year. Most of them never even made landfall.
But then word started arriving about the tsunamis. Deva was kicking up waves as tall as skyscrapers and sending them all over the world, threatening millions of lives along coastlines everywhere as evacuation orders rang out.
And Hector set out to help, not really understanding the scale of what he was getting himself into until he reached the coastline of Mara, south of Atreya, and began seeing them.
The waves.
They filled the horizon. Gargantuan walls that never seemed to end. And there wasn’t just one set to worry about. Oh no. After the first line, there was a second. And those were just as huge, if not even moreso.
Then a third line. And a fourth. A fifth. Sixth. Seventh.
It was endless. He’d already quit counting. There was no point. He wasn’t going to go home after some set number, anyway. He was going to do all he could.
And he’d been at it for days.
Days of flying across the full breadth of the Gulf of Emerson. Days of materializing the most massive blocks of iron that he could possibly create. Days of witnessing absolute devastation along the southern Eloan coastlines.
Mercifully, Atreya itself was almost entirely spared from the carnage. The geography of the Gulf was such that Atreya sat in one of its most naturally protected corners, about as far from the ocean as a country could get without being landlocked. The ports in Delroy, Cryson, and Jost were affected by some abnormally high and low tides, but that was it.
He was also still worried about an incursion into Callum or Lorent from Bloodeye, but according to the Rainlord scouting team in the region, Bloodeye was making another major push into the Sairi wetlands. Which wasn’t exactly comforting news, either, of course, but it was something. At least he could be marginally more confident that Warrenhold would remain safe while he was away.
He wasn’t sure he would ever be fully confident about that, though. Maybe this was just going to be a perpetual state of being from now on. Always worried about Warrenhold when he wasn’t there, no matter how secure things seemed.
But then word started arriving about the tsunamis. Deva was kicking up waves as tall as skyscrapers and sending them all over the world, threatening millions of lives along coastlines everywhere as evacuation orders rang out.
And Hector set out to help, not really understanding the scale of what he was getting himself into until he reached the coastline of Mara, south of Atreya, and began seeing them.
The waves.
They filled the horizon. Gargantuan walls that never seemed to end. And there wasn’t just one set to worry about. Oh no. After the first line, there was a second. And those were just as huge, if not even moreso.
Then a third line. And a fourth. A fifth. Sixth. Seventh.
It was endless. He’d already quit counting. There was no point. He wasn’t going to go home after some set number, anyway. He was going to do all he could.
And he’d been at it for days.
Days of flying across the full breadth of the Gulf of Emerson. Days of materializing the most massive blocks of iron that he could possibly create. Days of witnessing absolute devastation along the southern Eloan coastlines.
Mercifully, Atreya itself was almost entirely spared from the carnage. The geography of the Gulf was such that Atreya sat in one of its most naturally protected corners, about as far from the ocean as a country could get without being landlocked. The ports in Delroy, Cryson, and Jost were affected by some abnormally high and low tides, but that was it.
He was also still worried about an incursion into Callum or Lorent from Bloodeye, but according to the Rainlord scouting team in the region, Bloodeye was making another major push into the Sairi wetlands. Which wasn’t exactly comforting news, either, of course, but it was something. At least he could be marginally more confident that Warrenhold would remain safe while he was away.
He wasn’t sure he would ever be fully confident about that, though. Maybe this was just going to be a perpetual state of being from now on. Always worried about Warrenhold when he wasn’t there, no matter how secure things seemed.
Thursday, April 17, 2025
Page 3833 -- CCCXI.
The force of Dozer’s grip halted against Koh’s body. For he, too, was immovable now. And with the advantage in size, as well, Koh smothered the emperor with shadow and muscle, ghostflame and teeth. Until, finally, he was able to chomp down. Devoured whole. Ettol’s cocoon included.
He felt Dozer still resisting. Thrashing. But it didn’t matter. Within Koh’s body, the Dark Domain was at its strongest. The enhancing effects for him. And the sapping effects for his enemies.
There was one final step. Ettol’s reaper. Or rather, “Germal’s.” The reaper named Nerovoy.
Having spent so much time with Ettol, Koh knew the trick. Nerovoy had been imprisoned far away on the continent of Qenghis. The one that appeared before people was an illusion, a projection of Ettol to avoid questions.
But Koh couldn’t ignore Nerovoy, either. The reaper was inextricably linked to the Child’s incarnation. If he didn’t devour the reaper, too, then Ettol could theoretically still be revived in this realm. And that could not be allowed.
So he had to summon Nerovoy here. With his power, it was a trivial task. The connection between reaper and servant was a bridge across spacetime. Across the Veil itself, even. With the Darklight at his disposal, Koh pulled Nerovoy to him, already devoured right alongside Ettol.
And then it was done. They passed through the Veilgate within his stomach. Ettol and Dozer both. Their physical bodies disintegrated, separated from their souls as they departed from this world altogether.
Returning them to Chaos was not the solution, though. Not yet, at least. While any Child remained in this realm, new bridges could be easily built.
No, it was better to send them to Niebweiz, the Heavenly Prison. At least until the Hunt was complete. However long it might take.
A great sense of satisfaction consumed the Beast of Ardora. A long-held objective, reached at last. His most elusive of prey. Finally eaten.
Tremendous.
And there was yet more to be done, still. The rage of the Hunt wanted to quiet down, but he knew there was another target nearby deserving of its attention.
The empress. Her connection to Makirë was his next closest lead. Devouring her would likely prove very informative.
Kallmakk’s shadow boiled with anticipation as Koh began to move again.
No break was necessary. No rest needed. As ever, the Prime Hunt would continue.
Chapter Three Hundred Eleven: ‘Abiding champions, be mindful...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Hector hadn’t felt this powerless in quite some time. Even as he soared through the sky in his flying armor, trying his damnedest to help as much as possible, it was clear to him that this was a problem far beyond his ability to solve. Certainly not by himself, at least.
He felt Dozer still resisting. Thrashing. But it didn’t matter. Within Koh’s body, the Dark Domain was at its strongest. The enhancing effects for him. And the sapping effects for his enemies.
There was one final step. Ettol’s reaper. Or rather, “Germal’s.” The reaper named Nerovoy.
Having spent so much time with Ettol, Koh knew the trick. Nerovoy had been imprisoned far away on the continent of Qenghis. The one that appeared before people was an illusion, a projection of Ettol to avoid questions.
But Koh couldn’t ignore Nerovoy, either. The reaper was inextricably linked to the Child’s incarnation. If he didn’t devour the reaper, too, then Ettol could theoretically still be revived in this realm. And that could not be allowed.
So he had to summon Nerovoy here. With his power, it was a trivial task. The connection between reaper and servant was a bridge across spacetime. Across the Veil itself, even. With the Darklight at his disposal, Koh pulled Nerovoy to him, already devoured right alongside Ettol.
And then it was done. They passed through the Veilgate within his stomach. Ettol and Dozer both. Their physical bodies disintegrated, separated from their souls as they departed from this world altogether.
Returning them to Chaos was not the solution, though. Not yet, at least. While any Child remained in this realm, new bridges could be easily built.
No, it was better to send them to Niebweiz, the Heavenly Prison. At least until the Hunt was complete. However long it might take.
A great sense of satisfaction consumed the Beast of Ardora. A long-held objective, reached at last. His most elusive of prey. Finally eaten.
Tremendous.
And there was yet more to be done, still. The rage of the Hunt wanted to quiet down, but he knew there was another target nearby deserving of its attention.
The empress. Her connection to Makirë was his next closest lead. Devouring her would likely prove very informative.
Kallmakk’s shadow boiled with anticipation as Koh began to move again.
No break was necessary. No rest needed. As ever, the Prime Hunt would continue.
Chapter Three Hundred Eleven: ‘Abiding champions, be mindful...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Hector hadn’t felt this powerless in quite some time. Even as he soared through the sky in his flying armor, trying his damnedest to help as much as possible, it was clear to him that this was a problem far beyond his ability to solve. Certainly not by himself, at least.
Wednesday, April 16, 2025
Page 3832
An ear-splitting screech hit Koh like a truck, knocking him off course but not stopping him. It stayed on him, however, punishing his ears and infiltrating his skull, as if trying to tear it apart from within.
The attack rendered it impossible to think. To hold even a simple thought. But he was the Beast of Ardora and did not strictly need such things. Instinct alone was enough to return fire on the attacker from afar. And with the rage of the Hunt built up to such a height, it would be no meager counterstroke, either.
The empress. He targeted her aura in an instant. His eyes, already burning with the power of the Darklight, found her with a snap turn of his head, and from his enormous mouth, he loosed a great beam of dark energy, just like the ones that Kallmakk had been raining down upon their chaotic battle party for days.
But this one was yet more powerful still. It had Koh’s own connection to the Darklight boosting it, alongside Kallmakk’s. And it had the rage of the Hunt, too. The furious determination to destroy any obstacle in his path. Not to mention the power of the Dark Domain, as well.
The beam, therefore, was more than a laser. More than a straight line. It had an instinct of its own. A gift bestowed upon it by the rage. A desire to hunt its intended recipient to the ends of Eleg.
So even though Sai-hee avoided its scorching path easily enough, that didn’t matter, because then it split apart into two beams and curved back around to attack her again. And she avoided both of those as well, but the same story unfolded, this time becoming four beams before reattacking.
Koh’s attention had already shifted back to Ettol, however. The empress would be busy for a while.
And again, he saw Dozer in the way, cracking into Ettol’s cocoon. Being an obstacle. Again.
Distance was no longer on the emperor’s side, however. Koh mauled him. And this time, it would be the end. Dozer had his chance to back down and instead chose to continue getting in the way.
Dozer resisted, of course. Grabbed at his massive neck. His snarling jaws. His raging shadow. And before now, that would’ve been a problem. Before now, the immovable emperor could have bested him in close combat.
But no longer. Koh had approached his maximum size and strength. The Darklight was coursing through every part of him, setting even his fur ablaze with ghostfire. The emperor’s colossal physical might? He could resist it.
He could match it.
The attack rendered it impossible to think. To hold even a simple thought. But he was the Beast of Ardora and did not strictly need such things. Instinct alone was enough to return fire on the attacker from afar. And with the rage of the Hunt built up to such a height, it would be no meager counterstroke, either.
The empress. He targeted her aura in an instant. His eyes, already burning with the power of the Darklight, found her with a snap turn of his head, and from his enormous mouth, he loosed a great beam of dark energy, just like the ones that Kallmakk had been raining down upon their chaotic battle party for days.
But this one was yet more powerful still. It had Koh’s own connection to the Darklight boosting it, alongside Kallmakk’s. And it had the rage of the Hunt, too. The furious determination to destroy any obstacle in his path. Not to mention the power of the Dark Domain, as well.
The beam, therefore, was more than a laser. More than a straight line. It had an instinct of its own. A gift bestowed upon it by the rage. A desire to hunt its intended recipient to the ends of Eleg.
So even though Sai-hee avoided its scorching path easily enough, that didn’t matter, because then it split apart into two beams and curved back around to attack her again. And she avoided both of those as well, but the same story unfolded, this time becoming four beams before reattacking.
Koh’s attention had already shifted back to Ettol, however. The empress would be busy for a while.
And again, he saw Dozer in the way, cracking into Ettol’s cocoon. Being an obstacle. Again.
Distance was no longer on the emperor’s side, however. Koh mauled him. And this time, it would be the end. Dozer had his chance to back down and instead chose to continue getting in the way.
Dozer resisted, of course. Grabbed at his massive neck. His snarling jaws. His raging shadow. And before now, that would’ve been a problem. Before now, the immovable emperor could have bested him in close combat.
But no longer. Koh had approached his maximum size and strength. The Darklight was coursing through every part of him, setting even his fur ablaze with ghostfire. The emperor’s colossal physical might? He could resist it.
He could match it.
Tuesday, April 15, 2025
Page 3831
Another missile arrived, this time hitting Dozer, and the resulting explosion was just as powerful, but Koh could already tell that it had accomplished nothing. Through all the smoke and mayhem, the Living Void had budged not an inch. Even Ettol, who still sat within his grasp, seemed unchanged from the impact.
And Sai-hee, as well, was already recovering. He didn’t have long to finish breaking free, Koh knew.
The sound of machine gun fire ripped through the murk of the Domain, tracing a bright path through the darkness with white hot bullets. They harassed Dozer, ricocheting off him as a fighter jet tore past the battlefield overhead, leaving a sonic boom in its wake.
Koh hardly cared about it at the moment, but he’d heard about the aerial combat taking place over the Luthic Ocean recently, and this battle had even glimpsed a few such skirmishes in recent days. This, however, was the first time that one of those jet pilots had deigned to intervene.
Which was probably not a coincidence, Koh felt. If he’d had the presence of mind to make a guess right now, he might’ve attributed it to the Mad Demon’s machinations, somehow.
And indeed, Morgunov himself was already back on Dozer again, having apparently not been bothered by the explosions, either, perhaps because he’d been anticipating them. Moreover, he was no longer resorting to wrestling techniques. Now, he had some kind of tool in his hands. A sword? A baton? Koh couldn’t quite tell.
But when he struck Dozer’s arm with it, the man’s grip on Ettol released, as if by some inexplicable magic.
Koh didn’t require an explanation, though. He only saw the opportunity presenting itself. His bulk had increased enough. The rage of the Hunt had built enough. And Kallmakk was eager to assist.
The invisible cage shattered utterly, and Koh was free. He torpedoed straight for Ettol and sent the shadow’s tendrils even faster ahead of him. Gohvis moved to intervene again, but that was expected. Koh was ready with more cocoons--for everyone at once, this time. Ettol, Dozer, Gohvis, Sai-hee--and even a few more of the Abolishers in the background whose presence barely acquired his attention.
It didn’t matter if some of them evaded. That, too, was expected. Because Ettol could not get away. The cocoon enshrouded him before Gohvis got to him.
And that was the deciding moment. It was nearly over now. Within the Dark Domain, the cocoons were his playthings. His malleable pockets of reality.
And Sai-hee, as well, was already recovering. He didn’t have long to finish breaking free, Koh knew.
The sound of machine gun fire ripped through the murk of the Domain, tracing a bright path through the darkness with white hot bullets. They harassed Dozer, ricocheting off him as a fighter jet tore past the battlefield overhead, leaving a sonic boom in its wake.
Koh hardly cared about it at the moment, but he’d heard about the aerial combat taking place over the Luthic Ocean recently, and this battle had even glimpsed a few such skirmishes in recent days. This, however, was the first time that one of those jet pilots had deigned to intervene.
Which was probably not a coincidence, Koh felt. If he’d had the presence of mind to make a guess right now, he might’ve attributed it to the Mad Demon’s machinations, somehow.
And indeed, Morgunov himself was already back on Dozer again, having apparently not been bothered by the explosions, either, perhaps because he’d been anticipating them. Moreover, he was no longer resorting to wrestling techniques. Now, he had some kind of tool in his hands. A sword? A baton? Koh couldn’t quite tell.
But when he struck Dozer’s arm with it, the man’s grip on Ettol released, as if by some inexplicable magic.
Koh didn’t require an explanation, though. He only saw the opportunity presenting itself. His bulk had increased enough. The rage of the Hunt had built enough. And Kallmakk was eager to assist.
The invisible cage shattered utterly, and Koh was free. He torpedoed straight for Ettol and sent the shadow’s tendrils even faster ahead of him. Gohvis moved to intervene again, but that was expected. Koh was ready with more cocoons--for everyone at once, this time. Ettol, Dozer, Gohvis, Sai-hee--and even a few more of the Abolishers in the background whose presence barely acquired his attention.
It didn’t matter if some of them evaded. That, too, was expected. Because Ettol could not get away. The cocoon enshrouded him before Gohvis got to him.
And that was the deciding moment. It was nearly over now. Within the Dark Domain, the cocoons were his playthings. His malleable pockets of reality.
Monday, April 14, 2025
Page 3830
They were wrestling. Or at least, Morgunov was. From Koh’s knowledge of the Mad Demon, there was perhaps no deadlier user of such techniques in the entire world.
But to Dozer, it made no difference.
“Stop interfering, you old fart! What happened to not caring about this war, huh?!”
Dozer peeled the other man off of him like a wet blanket, snapped his fingers off to break his grip, and then flung him far afield.
It may not have done very much, but Koh appreciated the extra seconds to close the distance, at least. He dove after the older man again.
He ran into a wall, though. Invisible to the eye. What was this? Ah. A combination of Dozer and Sai-hee’s powers? Trying to box him in, were they?
Dozer otherwise ignored Koh and instead flew straight to Gohvis’ cocoon, skewering it with his fist and cracking it open. He pulled Gohvis free as the darkness shuddered and shriveled.
How irritating. Koh could feel the rage of the Hunt building again. He might have to use that. This invisible box was quite sturdy, apparently. He slammed his body into it, and it shook violently but didn’t break. Two emperors working in tandem was a real problem. But he kept going. Slam. Slam. Again.
“It need not be this way, Man-Eater,” came Dozer’s voice through the gloom. “You are still one of my men, and your power intrigues me. Let us find a way to negotiate. With your abilities, I am certain it would be possible.”
Slam. Slam. He tried creating another cocoon from afar, but Gohvis was ready for it this time and evaded.
“Save your breath, Medan,” said Sai-hee. “This one is more beast than man. We’ll have to put him down.”
Slam. Slam. Another cocoon, this time on Sai-hee, but she evaded, as well.
“Are those the words of the famous Peacemaker?” said Dozer. “And how do you know that for certain?”
Slam. Slam. The rage was still building. It was bleeding into the Dark Domain. Making it ripple.
“Don’t be--” Sai-hee’s words died in her mouth as a cruise missile collided with her, rocking the sky with such force that even Koh’s invisible cage rattled under its weight.
And it weakened, too. Koh felt it immediately. On the next slam, it gave way almost entirely, allowing him to poke his head through, snapping and snarling while the rage continued to grow.
But to Dozer, it made no difference.
“Stop interfering, you old fart! What happened to not caring about this war, huh?!”
Dozer peeled the other man off of him like a wet blanket, snapped his fingers off to break his grip, and then flung him far afield.
It may not have done very much, but Koh appreciated the extra seconds to close the distance, at least. He dove after the older man again.
He ran into a wall, though. Invisible to the eye. What was this? Ah. A combination of Dozer and Sai-hee’s powers? Trying to box him in, were they?
Dozer otherwise ignored Koh and instead flew straight to Gohvis’ cocoon, skewering it with his fist and cracking it open. He pulled Gohvis free as the darkness shuddered and shriveled.
How irritating. Koh could feel the rage of the Hunt building again. He might have to use that. This invisible box was quite sturdy, apparently. He slammed his body into it, and it shook violently but didn’t break. Two emperors working in tandem was a real problem. But he kept going. Slam. Slam. Again.
“It need not be this way, Man-Eater,” came Dozer’s voice through the gloom. “You are still one of my men, and your power intrigues me. Let us find a way to negotiate. With your abilities, I am certain it would be possible.”
Slam. Slam. He tried creating another cocoon from afar, but Gohvis was ready for it this time and evaded.
“Save your breath, Medan,” said Sai-hee. “This one is more beast than man. We’ll have to put him down.”
Slam. Slam. Another cocoon, this time on Sai-hee, but she evaded, as well.
“Are those the words of the famous Peacemaker?” said Dozer. “And how do you know that for certain?”
Slam. Slam. The rage was still building. It was bleeding into the Dark Domain. Making it ripple.
“Don’t be--” Sai-hee’s words died in her mouth as a cruise missile collided with her, rocking the sky with such force that even Koh’s invisible cage rattled under its weight.
And it weakened, too. Koh felt it immediately. On the next slam, it gave way almost entirely, allowing him to poke his head through, snapping and snarling while the rage continued to grow.
Sunday, April 13, 2025
Page 3829
He knew the approach to take, but it was going to be quite unpleasant. Perhaps it would be for the best, though. More fair and just. The Children could all reincarnate, so death would hardly even bother them, unlike these hapless emperors who’d only gotten involved as a matter of happenstance. While it wasn’t presently on his mind, Koh did pity them, somewhat. Yet more collateral damage of the Hunt.
With a great pulse, Koh bulked up immensely, growing in size again. His shadowy body had already more than doubled its mass since the fighting began, but it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. If chewing through the opponent wouldn’t work, then he simply wouldn’t chew.
He’d devour every enemy whole. Every obstacle. Everything that got in his way.
But of course, he was under no illusions that this would be a simple or easy feat. Chewing had its uses, after all. It rendered the meat inert. Prevented it from causing problems during digestion. Without it, his body would have to undertake that process unaided. It would have to suppress the full might of an angry emperor, fighting to get out.
Could his throat and stomach handle that?
Yes. But it wouldn’t be pretty.
Koh didn’t have the luxury of waiting for his body to reach its maximum size. He wasn’t even certain what that was now.
He simply started gobbling. His maw was big enough to fit Dozer’s upper body in one bite. Almost Ettol, too. Close. So close. Just a bit more.
Dozer thrashed. Of course he did. A world-shaking tremor. Threatening to tear Koh’s skull apart in one motion.
But no. He could endure it. He could finish this meal.
Until Sai-hee arrived, that was. Interrupting. Knocking Dozer loose with a disorienting blow to the side of Koh’s head.
Gohvis was on him now, too, grabbing him by the torso and trying to manhandle him like his illusory projection had done previously in this long battle. Trying to prevent him from immediately pouncing on Dozer again.
Koh would not abide it this time. Kallmakk’s shadow swarmed the Scourge, loosening his grip and smothering him in darkness. The power of the Dark Domain only enhanced it further, wrapping Gohvis up in a great cocoon, giving the man plenty to think about while Koh’s focus returned to Ettol.
To his surprise, however, Morgunov had gotten there first.
With a great pulse, Koh bulked up immensely, growing in size again. His shadowy body had already more than doubled its mass since the fighting began, but it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. If chewing through the opponent wouldn’t work, then he simply wouldn’t chew.
He’d devour every enemy whole. Every obstacle. Everything that got in his way.
But of course, he was under no illusions that this would be a simple or easy feat. Chewing had its uses, after all. It rendered the meat inert. Prevented it from causing problems during digestion. Without it, his body would have to undertake that process unaided. It would have to suppress the full might of an angry emperor, fighting to get out.
Could his throat and stomach handle that?
Yes. But it wouldn’t be pretty.
Koh didn’t have the luxury of waiting for his body to reach its maximum size. He wasn’t even certain what that was now.
He simply started gobbling. His maw was big enough to fit Dozer’s upper body in one bite. Almost Ettol, too. Close. So close. Just a bit more.
Dozer thrashed. Of course he did. A world-shaking tremor. Threatening to tear Koh’s skull apart in one motion.
But no. He could endure it. He could finish this meal.
Until Sai-hee arrived, that was. Interrupting. Knocking Dozer loose with a disorienting blow to the side of Koh’s head.
Gohvis was on him now, too, grabbing him by the torso and trying to manhandle him like his illusory projection had done previously in this long battle. Trying to prevent him from immediately pouncing on Dozer again.
Koh would not abide it this time. Kallmakk’s shadow swarmed the Scourge, loosening his grip and smothering him in darkness. The power of the Dark Domain only enhanced it further, wrapping Gohvis up in a great cocoon, giving the man plenty to think about while Koh’s focus returned to Ettol.
To his surprise, however, Morgunov had gotten there first.
Saturday, April 12, 2025
Page 3828
Koh knew what the next attack would be, too. Another powerful strike from the tail. Threatening Koh’s torso. With that in mind, he could probably endure it just fine by simply bracing himself, but why bother taking hits that he didn’t need to?
Instead, he let go of Gohvis’ shoulder in order to warp the dragon man’s position again, reorienting him into the opposite direction. From Gohvis’ perspective, it might have seemed as though Koh was teleporting around him, for that was how quickly the Dark Domain could warp the space within it.
The swing of the tail missed entirely, and now the arm holding Ettol was right in front of Koh’s face.
But wait. There was no Ettol now. The hand was empty.
Koh still didn’t hesitate to bite down, though. Gohvis deserved that much for whatever trick he’d just pulled, and while Koh chewed, he reassessed the battlefield.
Where had the Trickster been taken?
Everywhere, apparently. Koh’s senses told him of a dozen different Ettols now, scattered afield and being carried by various combatants.
Illusions, of course. Distractions.
It wouldn’t work, but it might buy them a couple seconds. Where was the real one? Even his nose couldn’t tell. Gohvis was taking that into account, too.
But Koh still knew. Not because of one particular sense but because of all of them. Soul, scent, aura, and simple situational awareness. Together, they painted a clear picture for him.
Dozer had him now. Of course he did. Gohvis wouldn’t have entrusted his precious cargo to anyone else. And that further explained why Dozer was not immediately reattacking.
This presented a problem. The immovable man would have to be dealt with directly, after all.
So be it. If he insisted on obstructing the Prime Hunt, then the man had no one to blame but himself.
During these few seconds of reassessment, the Black Scourge pummeled him with a flurry of attacks, but Koh’s attention didn’t waver. He finished tearing the arm off and sent Gohvis on his way again, gulping the flesh down as he pulled Dozer back to him.
Ghostfire dotted the man’s body. Remnants of the Patrol’s harassment. Dozer had already turned the detachment to dust, and despite the flames lingering, they didn’t appear to be bothering him in the slightest.
Biting this one would be pointless, Koh felt. Even with Kallmakk’s help, his teeth would struggle to rip through Dozer’s flesh.
Instead, he let go of Gohvis’ shoulder in order to warp the dragon man’s position again, reorienting him into the opposite direction. From Gohvis’ perspective, it might have seemed as though Koh was teleporting around him, for that was how quickly the Dark Domain could warp the space within it.
The swing of the tail missed entirely, and now the arm holding Ettol was right in front of Koh’s face.
But wait. There was no Ettol now. The hand was empty.
Koh still didn’t hesitate to bite down, though. Gohvis deserved that much for whatever trick he’d just pulled, and while Koh chewed, he reassessed the battlefield.
Where had the Trickster been taken?
Everywhere, apparently. Koh’s senses told him of a dozen different Ettols now, scattered afield and being carried by various combatants.
Illusions, of course. Distractions.
It wouldn’t work, but it might buy them a couple seconds. Where was the real one? Even his nose couldn’t tell. Gohvis was taking that into account, too.
But Koh still knew. Not because of one particular sense but because of all of them. Soul, scent, aura, and simple situational awareness. Together, they painted a clear picture for him.
Dozer had him now. Of course he did. Gohvis wouldn’t have entrusted his precious cargo to anyone else. And that further explained why Dozer was not immediately reattacking.
This presented a problem. The immovable man would have to be dealt with directly, after all.
So be it. If he insisted on obstructing the Prime Hunt, then the man had no one to blame but himself.
During these few seconds of reassessment, the Black Scourge pummeled him with a flurry of attacks, but Koh’s attention didn’t waver. He finished tearing the arm off and sent Gohvis on his way again, gulping the flesh down as he pulled Dozer back to him.
Ghostfire dotted the man’s body. Remnants of the Patrol’s harassment. Dozer had already turned the detachment to dust, and despite the flames lingering, they didn’t appear to be bothering him in the slightest.
Biting this one would be pointless, Koh felt. Even with Kallmakk’s help, his teeth would struggle to rip through Dozer’s flesh.
Friday, April 11, 2025
Page 3827
The immovable man was certainly a problem, but there were various means of dealing with him. The least costly was to simply keep him distracted, and for that task, the Outerdark Patrol would serve well enough. With Abolish and the Vanguard fighting each other again, it wasn’t difficult to have a detachment of skeletal soldiers head over here on a newly formed bridge via the howl.
They wouldn’t be able to hold Dozer’s attention for very long, Koh knew, but he didn’t need them to. He only needed time enough to get to Ettol. As long as Gohvis didn’t decide to run, that would be doable. And knowing how tremendous the Black Scourge’s ego was, he was quite unlikely to flee.
For now, at least.
If Koh couldn’t finish the job in this next onslaught, that might change. The Scourge might realize that this was a losing battle for him and consider altering his strategy.
Better to avoid that hassle entirely. Better to strike with overwhelming force now.
The only problem was that he didn’t actually know what his most powerful technique was, anymore. With Kallmakk’s aid, where did the limit now reside?
Perhaps it was time to find out. He drank deeply of the Darklight, letting its power fill his mind and body still further. And then he let it explode outward, though not as a form of attack.
He wanted it to cover the area, to create a bubble of his own, a new domain to grant him yet more advantages in this fight. Greater strength. Greater speed. Greater resilience. Greater senses.
And the ability to warp space as he saw fit.
A Dark Domain.
The Patrol could use it as well. More bridges for them. In all directions.
As the howl subsided once more, Dozer and Gohvis had swapped places. No need to chase. Dozer might’ve been immovable, but the space he existed in was not. And this way, the Scourge’s problematic speed could be suppressed or even ignored. And those psychic illusions could be seen through more easily, too.
Gohvis’ fist was already mid-swing, however. Aiming for his head. Another deadly instance of the Scourge’s predictive analysis. Koh was familiar with it from their sparring sessions.
Which was why he was ready for it, too. Instead of landing cleanly, it only grazed the top of his head as he ducked under it. Still rattling, certainly, but not nearly enough to stop him. His jaw caught Gohvis under the shoulder and bit down with enough force to nearly tear it off on the first bite.
They wouldn’t be able to hold Dozer’s attention for very long, Koh knew, but he didn’t need them to. He only needed time enough to get to Ettol. As long as Gohvis didn’t decide to run, that would be doable. And knowing how tremendous the Black Scourge’s ego was, he was quite unlikely to flee.
For now, at least.
If Koh couldn’t finish the job in this next onslaught, that might change. The Scourge might realize that this was a losing battle for him and consider altering his strategy.
Better to avoid that hassle entirely. Better to strike with overwhelming force now.
The only problem was that he didn’t actually know what his most powerful technique was, anymore. With Kallmakk’s aid, where did the limit now reside?
Perhaps it was time to find out. He drank deeply of the Darklight, letting its power fill his mind and body still further. And then he let it explode outward, though not as a form of attack.
He wanted it to cover the area, to create a bubble of his own, a new domain to grant him yet more advantages in this fight. Greater strength. Greater speed. Greater resilience. Greater senses.
And the ability to warp space as he saw fit.
A Dark Domain.
The Patrol could use it as well. More bridges for them. In all directions.
As the howl subsided once more, Dozer and Gohvis had swapped places. No need to chase. Dozer might’ve been immovable, but the space he existed in was not. And this way, the Scourge’s problematic speed could be suppressed or even ignored. And those psychic illusions could be seen through more easily, too.
Gohvis’ fist was already mid-swing, however. Aiming for his head. Another deadly instance of the Scourge’s predictive analysis. Koh was familiar with it from their sparring sessions.
Which was why he was ready for it, too. Instead of landing cleanly, it only grazed the top of his head as he ducked under it. Still rattling, certainly, but not nearly enough to stop him. His jaw caught Gohvis under the shoulder and bit down with enough force to nearly tear it off on the first bite.
Tuesday, April 8, 2025
Page 3826
Koh had not gotten her in a very long time, but she was always a difficult opponent in a direct confrontation. Much like Avar, she could wield the Firelight, which was by its very nature always in conflict with the Darklight. Unlike the Earthlight, Windlight, and Waterlight, those two could not meld or even coexist with one another. A clash was all but inevitable.
And if she was supporting Sai-hee in some way--even if only to manipulate her--then Koh knew to be doubly wary of the empress here. A blessing from Makirë might have granted her all sorts of troublesome new abilities.
But that wasn’t going to make him balk, of course.
A new lead for the Prime Hunt. And a new obstacle, too.
There was only one course of action to be taken now. The empress was compromised. Untrustworthy. Even if Morgunov did manage to talk her down here and now, she would soon become a problem when Koh went after Makirë next.
It bore little thinking about. Koh’s instincts told him all he needed to know.
He attacked.
Wreathed in darkness, he rocketed toward her like a missile through air, uncaring of the fact that she had been mid-sentence.
Before he could even reach her, however, light burst out from her position, blinding him and cutting into his swirling shadow like a hundred swords.
Not such a problem for him, though. He didn’t need his eyes. Or even his soul senses. Aura and scent were more than enough.
He still found her and bit down, right through her torso.
But his teeth phased through her harmlessly, snapping shut without drawing a single drop of blood.
She zipped away, out of immediate reach, and Kallmakk’s shadow pursued on its own while Koh reassessed.
She wasn’t a light-wielder. He knew her servant ability, and that wasn’t it. So that must’ve indeed been the result of a blessing.
Moreover, she’d been ready for his attack. She’d known.
Any remaining uncertainty vanished. She belonged to the enemy.
But she was also not his objective. Ettol was. So while the Darklight took on a life of its own through Kallmakk and kept her busy, Koh went after the Trickster again.
And again, Dozer got in his way.
This time, it was Koh who was ready. There was no talking their way through this now.
Koh’s howl tore through the dampening bubble that Sai-hee had created for them. The storm was again trying to converge back in on everyone, but the howl pushed it back, making the air tremble.
And if she was supporting Sai-hee in some way--even if only to manipulate her--then Koh knew to be doubly wary of the empress here. A blessing from Makirë might have granted her all sorts of troublesome new abilities.
But that wasn’t going to make him balk, of course.
A new lead for the Prime Hunt. And a new obstacle, too.
There was only one course of action to be taken now. The empress was compromised. Untrustworthy. Even if Morgunov did manage to talk her down here and now, she would soon become a problem when Koh went after Makirë next.
It bore little thinking about. Koh’s instincts told him all he needed to know.
He attacked.
Wreathed in darkness, he rocketed toward her like a missile through air, uncaring of the fact that she had been mid-sentence.
Before he could even reach her, however, light burst out from her position, blinding him and cutting into his swirling shadow like a hundred swords.
Not such a problem for him, though. He didn’t need his eyes. Or even his soul senses. Aura and scent were more than enough.
He still found her and bit down, right through her torso.
But his teeth phased through her harmlessly, snapping shut without drawing a single drop of blood.
She zipped away, out of immediate reach, and Kallmakk’s shadow pursued on its own while Koh reassessed.
She wasn’t a light-wielder. He knew her servant ability, and that wasn’t it. So that must’ve indeed been the result of a blessing.
Moreover, she’d been ready for his attack. She’d known.
Any remaining uncertainty vanished. She belonged to the enemy.
But she was also not his objective. Ettol was. So while the Darklight took on a life of its own through Kallmakk and kept her busy, Koh went after the Trickster again.
And again, Dozer got in his way.
This time, it was Koh who was ready. There was no talking their way through this now.
Koh’s howl tore through the dampening bubble that Sai-hee had created for them. The storm was again trying to converge back in on everyone, but the howl pushed it back, making the air tremble.
Monday, April 7, 2025
Page 3825
“More nonsense,” said Sai-hee. “As Medan said, these two have been a pair for almost a century, yes? So how could they be mortal enemies as you describe?”
“Mindflayer, remember? That’s his power. I’m sure he enslaved Koh’s mind.”
“Enslaved? A creature this powerful? And why is he no longer so? What changed and why now?”
“The mindflayer probably caught him in a moment of weakness. And now, clearly, something has shifted for the Beast here. Maybe I don’t know exactly how it happened, but he seems to have absorbed the feldeath’s power.”
Sai-hee still wasn’t looking convinced. “If he has been enslaved for so long, why did you, knowing all of this and being one of his bosses for decades, do nothing about it the whole time?”
“Look, my head got scrambled, too, okay? Not by the mindflayer, necessarily, but that’s neither here nor there. Point is, I’ve only been figuring this stuff out recently. And hey, I did occasionally still try to get my hands on him, too. The mindflayer’s a slippery bastard.”
But Koh was hardly even listening now. Instead, his attention had shifted more heavily to the empress.
There was something about her. These questions. This persistent stubborn refusal to listen. Explained, perhaps, by the Mad Demon being so difficult to take seriously. And by the overall hubris of servant emperors. None of them were prone to changing their minds, certainly.
But was there more? Something hiding behind her? True, there was no obvious scent of the Children upon her, but that was rarely a trustworthy source of information, anymore. Koh was quite sure that most of them had figured out he could track them that way long ago. And emperor-level servants were unlikely to be direct vessels for them. Too much attention. Too much clashing power.
Plus, Koh had investigated all of the current emperors many years prior. They were clean. Or at least, they used to be.
But that still didn’t mean they were totally free of a Child’s influence. There could be one in her inner circle, concealing itself within her long shadow.
And here, Koh’s senses felt heightened in ways that were previously unimaginable. Finding such a well-hidden target from this position would have surely been impossible before, but now?
There was indeed a scent on her. Or rather, around her. Within her aura. A lingering profile. A familiar one, too.
Makirë.
He sensed her. He didn’t know how she related to the Peacemaker, but she was there. Somewhere.
The most childish of the Children. The Child Exultant.
“Mindflayer, remember? That’s his power. I’m sure he enslaved Koh’s mind.”
“Enslaved? A creature this powerful? And why is he no longer so? What changed and why now?”
“The mindflayer probably caught him in a moment of weakness. And now, clearly, something has shifted for the Beast here. Maybe I don’t know exactly how it happened, but he seems to have absorbed the feldeath’s power.”
Sai-hee still wasn’t looking convinced. “If he has been enslaved for so long, why did you, knowing all of this and being one of his bosses for decades, do nothing about it the whole time?”
“Look, my head got scrambled, too, okay? Not by the mindflayer, necessarily, but that’s neither here nor there. Point is, I’ve only been figuring this stuff out recently. And hey, I did occasionally still try to get my hands on him, too. The mindflayer’s a slippery bastard.”
But Koh was hardly even listening now. Instead, his attention had shifted more heavily to the empress.
There was something about her. These questions. This persistent stubborn refusal to listen. Explained, perhaps, by the Mad Demon being so difficult to take seriously. And by the overall hubris of servant emperors. None of them were prone to changing their minds, certainly.
But was there more? Something hiding behind her? True, there was no obvious scent of the Children upon her, but that was rarely a trustworthy source of information, anymore. Koh was quite sure that most of them had figured out he could track them that way long ago. And emperor-level servants were unlikely to be direct vessels for them. Too much attention. Too much clashing power.
Plus, Koh had investigated all of the current emperors many years prior. They were clean. Or at least, they used to be.
But that still didn’t mean they were totally free of a Child’s influence. There could be one in her inner circle, concealing itself within her long shadow.
And here, Koh’s senses felt heightened in ways that were previously unimaginable. Finding such a well-hidden target from this position would have surely been impossible before, but now?
There was indeed a scent on her. Or rather, around her. Within her aura. A lingering profile. A familiar one, too.
Makirë.
He sensed her. He didn’t know how she related to the Peacemaker, but she was there. Somewhere.
The most childish of the Children. The Child Exultant.
Sunday, April 6, 2025
Page 3824
“I tire of this idiocy,” said Dozer. “Our men are dying. If you know the wolf’s true motive, then speak it now. Be clear.”
Morgunov snickered. “Our men? You’re suddenly worried about them, are you? How touching. But fine! Let me make it so simple that even a stone-headed moron like you will understand!” He pointed toward Germal, who was still just an upper body in Gohvis’ hand, not regenerating at all despite the fact that Gohvis himself was fully recovered from Koh’s attacks. “Your little mindflayer over there is not only a traitor to Abolish but also an enemy to all of us! All of humankind! He is a vessel for a Primordial, who all want nothing more than to subjugate mankind! To make us live under their thumb, in rot and filth, as they suppress the technology we work so hard to create!”
A brief silence arrived, filled only by the muffled sounds of battle from the other side of their bubble.
Sai-hee spoke first. “That is quite a tale.”
“It’s the truth,” said Morgunov.
And Koh, for his part, was surprised. It had an obvious bias, but the Mad Demon’s version wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Perhaps this situation may yet resolve itself without further needless bloodshed.
“A Primordial,” said Dozer, eyeing Germal. “You mentioned that before. But you claim they are all alike and yet the tales of them could not be more different. Even assuming they are real, lumping them together would be akin to lumping you and I together, which is obviously a mistake.”
“Hmph! Whatever! He told me his plans himself!”
“A shame he can’t do so for us now,” said Sai-hee. “I would hear how he might advocate for himself.”
“You’d only hear lies,” said Morgunov. “I’m telling you: the dog is on the right side here. We shouldn’t get in his way.”
“None of what you said explains the wolf’s motive,” said Dozer. “It only explains your own. Why should the Man-Eater care about the suppression of technology?”
“Oh, he probably doesn’t,” said Morgunov. “But that big fella right there is the Beast of Ardora. The Eternal Hunter of Primordials. Older than all of us combined, I’m pretty sure. By his very nature, he knows that eliminating Germal is the right thing to do. Moreover, I bet he’s the main reason why the Primordials don’t usually make themselves more widely known. They’re afraid of him.”
Morgunov snickered. “Our men? You’re suddenly worried about them, are you? How touching. But fine! Let me make it so simple that even a stone-headed moron like you will understand!” He pointed toward Germal, who was still just an upper body in Gohvis’ hand, not regenerating at all despite the fact that Gohvis himself was fully recovered from Koh’s attacks. “Your little mindflayer over there is not only a traitor to Abolish but also an enemy to all of us! All of humankind! He is a vessel for a Primordial, who all want nothing more than to subjugate mankind! To make us live under their thumb, in rot and filth, as they suppress the technology we work so hard to create!”
A brief silence arrived, filled only by the muffled sounds of battle from the other side of their bubble.
Sai-hee spoke first. “That is quite a tale.”
“It’s the truth,” said Morgunov.
And Koh, for his part, was surprised. It had an obvious bias, but the Mad Demon’s version wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Perhaps this situation may yet resolve itself without further needless bloodshed.
“A Primordial,” said Dozer, eyeing Germal. “You mentioned that before. But you claim they are all alike and yet the tales of them could not be more different. Even assuming they are real, lumping them together would be akin to lumping you and I together, which is obviously a mistake.”
“Hmph! Whatever! He told me his plans himself!”
“A shame he can’t do so for us now,” said Sai-hee. “I would hear how he might advocate for himself.”
“You’d only hear lies,” said Morgunov. “I’m telling you: the dog is on the right side here. We shouldn’t get in his way.”
“None of what you said explains the wolf’s motive,” said Dozer. “It only explains your own. Why should the Man-Eater care about the suppression of technology?”
“Oh, he probably doesn’t,” said Morgunov. “But that big fella right there is the Beast of Ardora. The Eternal Hunter of Primordials. Older than all of us combined, I’m pretty sure. By his very nature, he knows that eliminating Germal is the right thing to do. Moreover, I bet he’s the main reason why the Primordials don’t usually make themselves more widely known. They’re afraid of him.”
Saturday, April 5, 2025
Page 3823
“Well, well, well!” came the familiar intonations of the Mad Demon. “Looks like ol’ Morgy here is the only one in the know! But that’s nothing new, now is it? You guys are always playing catch-up, aren’tcha?”
“What nonsense are you spewing now?” said Dozer.
“He’s not after your pet lizard, Dozy. Weren’t you paying attention? He’s clearly after Germal. Just like I am, as it so happens! What a coinkidink, eh?!”
“Hmph.” Dozer looked between the two of them as Koh debated trying to circumvent him and resume attacking. “Why the sudden turn? By my recollection, he has been the Liar’s stalwart companion for near a century already.”
“Why, you ask? Because, like me, he understands that it’s the right thing to do!”
“You cannot possibly be attempting to moralize at me, Nibas. You, of all people.”
“Look, I’m tryin’ somethin’ new. Maybe I’ve undergone something of a change, myself! Maybe I’m a new man!”
“If only that were possible,” came another voice from the left, this one feminine, belonging to the empress Sai-hee. And along with it, the whirling storm around them began to dampen, somewhat. Not in fury, but merely in noise. As though they had been put into a protective bubble, of sorts, with less need to speak in such intense voices. “More likely, this is yet another of your obnoxious games. You know nothing of the Man-Eater’s motivations, do you? You’re merely spinning yarns again.”
Morgunov clutched his chest. “My darling Saya! Say it isn’t so! You don’t really view me that way, do you?!”
She made no response.
Koh couldn’t help turning and growling at Morgunov.
“Whoa there, buddy. What’s your problem now, huh?”
In spite of everything, a part of Koh had actually begun to hope that the Mad Demon knew enough of the true circumstances here, that he would be able to articulate Koh’s position for him. But the more he listened to the man speak, the less likely that was seeming.
And it was rather irritating, to say the least.
Morgunov chortled as he looked over the others. “Honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually on the dog’s side now!”
“How could that possibly be?” said the empress. “You are making even less sense than usual, Nibas.”
“I know, right?! I feel like I should be holding a bigger grudge, considering he just got done biting me in the face seventeen times, but I guess that’s just how the cookie crumbles!”
Koh very much wanted to make it eighteen.
“What nonsense are you spewing now?” said Dozer.
“He’s not after your pet lizard, Dozy. Weren’t you paying attention? He’s clearly after Germal. Just like I am, as it so happens! What a coinkidink, eh?!”
“Hmph.” Dozer looked between the two of them as Koh debated trying to circumvent him and resume attacking. “Why the sudden turn? By my recollection, he has been the Liar’s stalwart companion for near a century already.”
“Why, you ask? Because, like me, he understands that it’s the right thing to do!”
“You cannot possibly be attempting to moralize at me, Nibas. You, of all people.”
“Look, I’m tryin’ somethin’ new. Maybe I’ve undergone something of a change, myself! Maybe I’m a new man!”
“If only that were possible,” came another voice from the left, this one feminine, belonging to the empress Sai-hee. And along with it, the whirling storm around them began to dampen, somewhat. Not in fury, but merely in noise. As though they had been put into a protective bubble, of sorts, with less need to speak in such intense voices. “More likely, this is yet another of your obnoxious games. You know nothing of the Man-Eater’s motivations, do you? You’re merely spinning yarns again.”
Morgunov clutched his chest. “My darling Saya! Say it isn’t so! You don’t really view me that way, do you?!”
She made no response.
Koh couldn’t help turning and growling at Morgunov.
“Whoa there, buddy. What’s your problem now, huh?”
In spite of everything, a part of Koh had actually begun to hope that the Mad Demon knew enough of the true circumstances here, that he would be able to articulate Koh’s position for him. But the more he listened to the man speak, the less likely that was seeming.
And it was rather irritating, to say the least.
Morgunov chortled as he looked over the others. “Honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually on the dog’s side now!”
“How could that possibly be?” said the empress. “You are making even less sense than usual, Nibas.”
“I know, right?! I feel like I should be holding a bigger grudge, considering he just got done biting me in the face seventeen times, but I guess that’s just how the cookie crumbles!”
Koh very much wanted to make it eighteen.
Friday, April 4, 2025
Page 3822
The other hand was proving elusive, though. Gohvis was trying to keep it away from him.
Annoying. Not much time until the missing hand regrew. Needed to be quick or try something else.
Spikes next. From all over Gohvis’ body. They skewered Koh in dozens of places, which wasn’t itself a problem, but they stunted his movement. Held him in place. Made it even harder to reach the evading hand.
Fine.
Koh’s eyes burned with black fire as he summoned the power of the Darklight directly. It filled his mind and soul like never before. Much more than anticipated. He’d only wanted to spit out a beam of dark energy, as he’d seen Kallmakk do countless times now, but what came forth instead was more like an explosion.
And at point-blank range, it tore through the Scourge’s body, spikes and all, sending the man toppling backwards in the air, head over tail. Ettol took some of the hit, too, but it still wasn’t enough.
Koh saw his chance. He dove after them, gunning for the hand again.
Then someone else got in the way.
Someone unmovable. Someone who stopped him cold with a firm grip on his bloodied snout.
“I must kindly ask you to stop this now,” said Dozer in two voices. The chaos of the hurricane and churning seas was finally converging back in on them, loud as could be, and yet his voice was still perfectly clear to Koh’s ears.
The voice of an emperor. One who intended to be heard.
It was enough, at least, to give Koh pause. Make him reassess. Must this man also be his opponent? Was there not some way to reach an understanding? While Koh could not speak, he could still pass information along, such as to the Outerdark Patrol. They understood his intentions.
So he tried again. With his aura. Attempting to make his intent known. He meant Dozer and Gohvis no harm. Only Ettol. Only Germal.
Fighting had again broken out all around them, however. A true mess. Koh could not entirely discern who was fighting whom. Abolish and the Vanguard, of course, but the Patrol was in there, too, apparently clashing with them both.
Unfortunate, but sadly expected.
“I know you can understand me, wolf,” said Dozer. “You have intelligence. I see it in your eyes. What is your quarrel with my son?”
Annoying. Not much time until the missing hand regrew. Needed to be quick or try something else.
Spikes next. From all over Gohvis’ body. They skewered Koh in dozens of places, which wasn’t itself a problem, but they stunted his movement. Held him in place. Made it even harder to reach the evading hand.
Fine.
Koh’s eyes burned with black fire as he summoned the power of the Darklight directly. It filled his mind and soul like never before. Much more than anticipated. He’d only wanted to spit out a beam of dark energy, as he’d seen Kallmakk do countless times now, but what came forth instead was more like an explosion.
And at point-blank range, it tore through the Scourge’s body, spikes and all, sending the man toppling backwards in the air, head over tail. Ettol took some of the hit, too, but it still wasn’t enough.
Koh saw his chance. He dove after them, gunning for the hand again.
Then someone else got in the way.
Someone unmovable. Someone who stopped him cold with a firm grip on his bloodied snout.
“I must kindly ask you to stop this now,” said Dozer in two voices. The chaos of the hurricane and churning seas was finally converging back in on them, loud as could be, and yet his voice was still perfectly clear to Koh’s ears.
The voice of an emperor. One who intended to be heard.
It was enough, at least, to give Koh pause. Make him reassess. Must this man also be his opponent? Was there not some way to reach an understanding? While Koh could not speak, he could still pass information along, such as to the Outerdark Patrol. They understood his intentions.
So he tried again. With his aura. Attempting to make his intent known. He meant Dozer and Gohvis no harm. Only Ettol. Only Germal.
Fighting had again broken out all around them, however. A true mess. Koh could not entirely discern who was fighting whom. Abolish and the Vanguard, of course, but the Patrol was in there, too, apparently clashing with them both.
Unfortunate, but sadly expected.
“I know you can understand me, wolf,” said Dozer. “You have intelligence. I see it in your eyes. What is your quarrel with my son?”
12th Anniversary on April 6th
Yep. Started writing this thing way back in the pre-historic days of 2013. And as is becoming tradition, I will be hanging out in the community discord on the 6th around noon PST in order to give rapid-fire answers to all your guys' questions.
Oh, and the new page for today will go up at noon again. Thanks for reading, as always.
Oh, and the new page for today will go up at noon again. Thanks for reading, as always.
Thursday, April 3, 2025
Page 3821
The damage healed rapidly, bones repairing and realigning themselves, but it hardly mattered. This body was, in part, intangible now. The break in his neck felt more like a simple stretch than an actual injury. Koh was deterred not a bit.
But it was still a concern that the Scourge was even capable of inflicting such damage in the first place. And he knew from personal experience during their numerous sparring sessions that this man was yet capable of far more.
In truth, Koh had never once bested Gohvis.
But he had also never once unleashed the full breadth of his dormant power while under Ettol’s influence. And of course, he never before had the aid of a vengeful feldeath on his side, either.
So even though he had cause to hesitate, Koh did not. Without waiting even a beat, he dove headlong back toward his opponent.
‘Calm yourself!’ tried Gohvis. ‘If you harbor some grievance against Germal, then make it known! This fight is needless!’
Ignorance and foolishness. Koh had no time for it. He went for one of Gohvis’ hands, the one not holding Ettol’s upper body. He knew that the Scourge would work harder to keep that one away from him, so he wanted to take care of the free one first. Those punches were dangerous, after all, and with his other one filled, this hand was the only real concern.
Apart from the tail, that was, which barreled into his ribcage, breaking more bones. But Koh endured it this time, not letting himself get pushed back. His teeth found the hand and bit down with ravenous force, tasting fresh blood.
Again, the skin resisted. The bone, too. Refusing to be bitten cleanly through. He had to gnaw on it, which left more time for the tail to pummel him again in the torso.
And more, as well. Some kind of concussive force on his skull. An intense weight, trying to slow him down. A psychic attack, most likely.
Koh ignored it.
The hand came free. Down his throat it went. Taken care of. And he moved on to the other one, where Ettol was waiting. The tail was still lashing at him, but Kallmakk’s shadow was wrestling with it now, softening its blows, turning it around.
And there was fire, too. Red-orange flames from somewhere. Blazing heat all over his body.
Koh ignored that, too.
But it was still a concern that the Scourge was even capable of inflicting such damage in the first place. And he knew from personal experience during their numerous sparring sessions that this man was yet capable of far more.
In truth, Koh had never once bested Gohvis.
But he had also never once unleashed the full breadth of his dormant power while under Ettol’s influence. And of course, he never before had the aid of a vengeful feldeath on his side, either.
So even though he had cause to hesitate, Koh did not. Without waiting even a beat, he dove headlong back toward his opponent.
‘Calm yourself!’ tried Gohvis. ‘If you harbor some grievance against Germal, then make it known! This fight is needless!’
Ignorance and foolishness. Koh had no time for it. He went for one of Gohvis’ hands, the one not holding Ettol’s upper body. He knew that the Scourge would work harder to keep that one away from him, so he wanted to take care of the free one first. Those punches were dangerous, after all, and with his other one filled, this hand was the only real concern.
Apart from the tail, that was, which barreled into his ribcage, breaking more bones. But Koh endured it this time, not letting himself get pushed back. His teeth found the hand and bit down with ravenous force, tasting fresh blood.
Again, the skin resisted. The bone, too. Refusing to be bitten cleanly through. He had to gnaw on it, which left more time for the tail to pummel him again in the torso.
And more, as well. Some kind of concussive force on his skull. An intense weight, trying to slow him down. A psychic attack, most likely.
Koh ignored it.
The hand came free. Down his throat it went. Taken care of. And he moved on to the other one, where Ettol was waiting. The tail was still lashing at him, but Kallmakk’s shadow was wrestling with it now, softening its blows, turning it around.
And there was fire, too. Red-orange flames from somewhere. Blazing heat all over his body.
Koh ignored that, too.
Wednesday, April 2, 2025
Page 3820
The Scourge’s hands began to pry the wolf’s mouth open. Koh tried to bite down even harder, to finish what he should have done already, but it was a struggle.
‘Man-Eater,’ came Gohvis’ telepathic voice, directly into Koh’s mind. ‘Release him now.’
Koh might have liked to argue with him, to tell him all manner of things, but he was no psychic. He could understand most languages, and he could read intentions from auras, but speaking--either normally or telepathically--was something of which he had never been capable.
A fact which he had once lamented. Why had his master not granted him the gift of speech? Why only the ability to comprehend the world but not partake more deeply into it?
But he was long past such questions. They served no purpose. He was how he was. No amount of agonizing over it would change that.
And there were other ways to communicate. Such as auras. Gohvis could read them, too. Koh would therefore be able to get some amount of his feelings and intent across. He just had to focus.
Calm the anger in his blood.
Which was not easy, certainly. But he tried. This was a long overdue reckoning. Perhaps the Scourge could understand.
‘Heed my will, Man-Eater. I am your master.’
Or perhaps not.
In fact, those words only served to reignite the fire in his heart. Gohvis was not his master. No being within this realm could rightly claim to be so.
Kallmakk’s fury resonated with his own. Dark tendrils boiled out of his back, all but asking for permission to lash out at Gohvis like a hundred gigantic whips.
Perhaps Koh shouldn’t have allowed it, but he did.
Apparently, that was more than enough of an answer for Gohvis. As the tendrils battered him, Gohvis growled in two voices, then bulked up visibly with a single great pulse. He ripped Ettol free from Koh’s mouth, leaving half the flesh behind.
But he got the cranium. The only part that mattered.
Koh mauled him. Smothered the Black Scourge in darkness, tooth, and claw.
This meat was much more durable. The skin resisted his dagger-sized teeth but not completely.
A punch came.
There was enough force behind it to break Koh’s neck and send him reeling backwards, away from the Scourge.
The blanket of darkness swirled and caught him in midair, steadying him.
‘Man-Eater,’ came Gohvis’ telepathic voice, directly into Koh’s mind. ‘Release him now.’
Koh might have liked to argue with him, to tell him all manner of things, but he was no psychic. He could understand most languages, and he could read intentions from auras, but speaking--either normally or telepathically--was something of which he had never been capable.
A fact which he had once lamented. Why had his master not granted him the gift of speech? Why only the ability to comprehend the world but not partake more deeply into it?
But he was long past such questions. They served no purpose. He was how he was. No amount of agonizing over it would change that.
And there were other ways to communicate. Such as auras. Gohvis could read them, too. Koh would therefore be able to get some amount of his feelings and intent across. He just had to focus.
Calm the anger in his blood.
Which was not easy, certainly. But he tried. This was a long overdue reckoning. Perhaps the Scourge could understand.
‘Heed my will, Man-Eater. I am your master.’
Or perhaps not.
In fact, those words only served to reignite the fire in his heart. Gohvis was not his master. No being within this realm could rightly claim to be so.
Kallmakk’s fury resonated with his own. Dark tendrils boiled out of his back, all but asking for permission to lash out at Gohvis like a hundred gigantic whips.
Perhaps Koh shouldn’t have allowed it, but he did.
Apparently, that was more than enough of an answer for Gohvis. As the tendrils battered him, Gohvis growled in two voices, then bulked up visibly with a single great pulse. He ripped Ettol free from Koh’s mouth, leaving half the flesh behind.
But he got the cranium. The only part that mattered.
Koh mauled him. Smothered the Black Scourge in darkness, tooth, and claw.
This meat was much more durable. The skin resisted his dagger-sized teeth but not completely.
A punch came.
There was enough force behind it to break Koh’s neck and send him reeling backwards, away from the Scourge.
The blanket of darkness swirled and caught him in midair, steadying him.
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