Free Web NovelGoing back to around the time Veiranoei was finally getting Daniel to lay down and rest, Doephluev has been on the move almost nonstop. Her confrontation with Thymeria only laid the groundwork, and it’s still a gamble whether or not the blowback interrupts Doephluev’s plan.
She enters the power plan that Daniel built in a hastily built dam on the outflowing river from the lake that the Citadel rests upon the shore of.
A golem appears, saying in a neutral, ambiguous voice that could be anyone, “Greetings, your Grace. As you know, the power plant can be hazardous, so I would caution you…”
“Bring me Ucahote,” replies Doephluev as she walks. She’s the closest behind Hekate with dedication to fast-movement magic, including the short range teleportation, return, and even the earliest practice of the portal spell. She used a short-range teleportation spell as an assassin, but the one the Citadel and, by extension, Hekate use is more efficient at the cost of ‘noticeable’. Doephluev’s assassin favorite produced little light or sound, while Hekate’s teleportation spells cause bright flashes of light, and for the short-range, creates a ‘bloop’ sound at both the departure and arrival points.
All that said, she can’t simply ‘magic’ the answer she wants, and she has to use her instincts to outwit Daniel first and foremost.
She knows he goes to the septic plant for ultra-secret discussions. And, for quiet ‘mechanic time’ he toils in the hydroelectric facility because it’s too noisy for most of his consorts to want to spend time with him. Even Magnir and Neith generally avoid the power plant because they know nothing about the equipment Daniel has running within, and Daniel doesn’t seem to mind the continuous clamor that comes from the generators and turbines.
If anything, he finds this calamitous racket comforting in a morbid sort of way.
The archoneldwyn passes through the generator room to the delivery area, where Daniel receives parts from the Citadel and directs their installation to slowly and continuously improve the hydroelectric plant. Most of the Citadel’s surrounding town has electricity as a result, but it’s the only area receiving non-magical power so far. His goal is to produce enough for the Citadel itself, but for now, he can only provide for civilian housing. In fact, if the barrier hadn’t held, the town may be the only place with lights on at the moment of the anti-magic waves if Daniel detonates his ‘God-smiter’.
“And, there it is,” remarks Doephluev as she finds the shuttle she expected to find.
The golems are forbidden from harming or disrupting the Empresses if their behavior is in good faith. This is why, even if they wanted to, they couldn’t stop Doephluev from using her keen senses for all things ‘Daniel’ to track down his suspicious behavior.
On the shuttle is a conspicuous sphere of metal with no markings other than a simple panel flap, under which is a mechanical timer.
A second of which was made by Moelka recently, which was Doephluev’s first clue that Daniel was preparing to move whether he told anyone or not.
A golem is waiting in front of the shuttle, and Doephluev, approaches with a smug smirk. “Ucahote. Fancy meeting you here.”
“How may I be of service, your Imperial Grace?” asks the golem in charge of military affairs, typically.
“I know what all of this is. And, if you don’t want me to leak it to everyone, you’ll cooperate with me.”
“I don’t know what you mean, your Grace. This shuttle is…”
“Daniel is going to use a God-killer the moment he knows all other options have run out, and he will do so alone. Or, he would have. With your help and only your help. But, I don’t fancy myself a spoiled little Empress or princess. Ambition and action are the only things that get you what you want in life, and Daniel is the key to my future.” She points at the golem, adding sternly, “Deliver a letter and my hand-chosen assistants to Daniel when he tries to sneak back here to start his ‘mission’, and in the immediate present…” She turns far more serious, saying coldly, “Direct me to someone who will cooperate with me on a… darker matter that Daniel doesn’t need to know about.”
Ucahote is silent. The golems are essentially living statues, so reading their expressions can be virtually impossible. The golem is obviously acting on secret orders, or he would simply sabotage Doephluev by turning the other Empresses against her or getting Xyreko to effectively “pull rank” on her. Xyreko, as the Caretaker of the Citadel, has the most authority of the golems, and is the only one who can ‘tattle’ on the Empresses to Daniel, meaning she can effectively stonewall them as a last resort.
Ucahote knows all of this, and though he has mostly free will, he will have to decide if he wants to disobey Daniel or prevent Daniel’s plan from falling apart.
“Your Grace…”
“I could teleport the bomb away,” states Doephluev. “Perhaps right to Ryuogriar, or maybe Zuzia…”
Ucahote’s golem lets out a sigh, and he finally relaxes his posture. “Fine. But, I will not lie to his Grace when he asks.”
“You won’t have to,” replies Doephluev smugly as she hands over the letter to be delivered to Daniel. “This letter will explain that Daniel is in as much trouble as you are if you boys ignore my warning. It also explains that Daniel’s actions are transparent to me, even when he thinks he’s being sneaky.” She gives a big grin, since she is, in fact, pleased with herself.
“I can’t speak for him, but I will put you in touch with someone who may help you,” replies Ucahote finally. “Are you ready, your Grace?”
“Yes.”
The golem teleports them both to a room that immediately wipes Doephluev’s triumphant smirk off of her face.
She is hit by a pungent odor that nearly makes her gag; something the golems don’t have to worry about.
“Th-The sewage plant!?” blurts out Doephluev as she tries to cover her nose and mouth with her sleeves.
“It is the lowest traffic area in the Citadel,” replies Ucahote calmly. “And, I can’t afford another visitor to the power plant before the mission launches.”
She scowls at him, but he does have a point. She didn’t follow him, but Doephluev is aware that Daniel visited the sewage plant to make his plan with Ucahote in the first place.
Another golem appears, and this one has a different appearance. If anything, it seems to be more ancient than Xyreko, Balamae, or Ucahote, who are identifiable when they appear normally, but otherwise share a crisp, uniform look that is reminiscent of the feldroks, but in a humanoid form.
This one has armor that isn’t sleek and polished, but instead, has a dulled, tarnished look that reflects very little light.
“I’ll leave you two to discuss your matter, your Grace. I’ll also do what I can to dull Xyreko’s perception of this room for as long as possible.”
“Thank you,” replies Doephluev.
Ucahote vanishes, leaving the archoneldwyn former assassin with the golem she doesn’t know yet.
The shady Empress says warmly, “Greetings. I’m Doephluev arch Lawson, Empress of…”
“I don’t serve the Fievegal,” states the golem. “I am bound by the Citadel to serve the master of the Citadel, who is not here. And, I understand the human prides himself on not forcing anyone to serve against their own principles. If there is nothing else…” fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
“The Feldroks aren’t extinct,” states Doephluev bluntly. “Hekate and Fal are hope, just as I am for my people. If you have lived this long, it is because you still love the Feldroks, and you do continue to exist because you want to look after their legacy from behind the scenes, yes?”
The golem is silent, prompting the archoneldwyn to continue, “Hekate is an innocent child, and Daniel is naive and soft. If you said these things before I did, I would agree easily. And, it’s because of that that I need to deal with a problem they won’t before it worsens into something that could harm them.”
“Just because you haven’t seen me, ‘your Grace’, doesn’t mean I haven’t been watching you. Your utter contempt for Hekate and the young lord Fal are transparent.”
“You’re a child if you believe that,” retorts Doephluev. “I am Hekate’s rival, true. I do go out of my way to antagonize her. True. But,...” Doephluev smiles softly. “She… treats me like a rival, not an enemy. If… life had given me a better path, we would already likely be the best of friends. That is why I don’t mind being the immune system that protects her out of sight from the threats that are actively working to kill her and the man we both love.”
“Get help from the other Empresses,” states the golem, and after saying it, he vanishes.
However, Doephluev is no fool. He just said what she needs to know most importantly.
“I want help killing the source of the mana fire; the man who helped create the weapon. Count Sharnach kos Baumalde. If he isn’t stopped, he could cause the death of Hekate and Fal once and for all, even though the trigger man would be the Grand Prince. If I could do it myself, I would already be in the Grand Principality while no one is paying attention to me.”
The golem reappears right where he was standing before, and he replies quietly, “Baumalde made the void artillery?”
“He was the other half. We have Ahok, but Baumalde worked closely enough with her that he is a threat.”
“Why have you waited so long to try to address him if that is the case?” asks the golem.
“Because there hadn’t yet been a scheme to assassinate any of our allies,” replies the archoneldwyn. “Xyreko received a report that she passed on to Ryuogriar that Yaulander intends to move the void artillery he has ‘into position’. This means he is hesitant to dismantle it, and Baumalde is likely getting desperate, meaning he is more likely to accomplish something, even if it’s a sub-par copy of the original. A small void artillery could still erase anything caught in its detonation.”
“Why not dispatch the Grand Prince then?”
Once more, the golem has a cynical, astute grasp of the obvious questions. But, Doephluev replies sincerely, “Because, and I agree with the stance, even if we successfully assassinate the Grand Prince, the Fievegal is the only entity that could likely manage it, meaning we’re looking at civil war within the Empire, and retaliatory strikes and condemnation from the other countries waiting for us to make a mistake. Assassinating a lord that betrayed his own country to make super-weapons would be harder for the Grand Prince to get sympathy for, and will harm his credibility if he tries to blame us for it, whether he’s right or not, because he already blames us for everything.” Doephluev gestures with her hands to help illustrate her point. “You don’t destroy a bridge by attacking the top first. If you really wish to destroy a bridge, you pull pieces out of the supports.”
As obvious as this statement is, she’s right. Especially with stone bridges, pulling the supports out from under them and letting them collapse under their own weight is significantly more efficient than attacking the bridge itself.
“So, rather than attacking the Grand Prince himself, you wish to take away his assets and let him waste resources trying to retaliate.”
“Yes.”
The golem is silent for a moment as he ponders her words. “Call me Cheshyret,” states the golem finally. “I’ll hear out your plan for now.”
“Really?” asks the archoneldwyn cautiously.
He nods once. “I am familiar with the necessary evils of running a nation, even for the most magnanimous people there are. The first assassins were not people, but animals that possessed their own poisonous bites or stings. And… I agree. If I could protect Hekate’s childhood, I would sacrifice my own soul to turn back time and grant her one of peace, fun, and happiness… Since that is what the Feldroks gave to my descendants for a long time.”
“I am sorry for your loss, Cheshyret. I regrettably didn’t know the Feldroks of old, but the two I do know are… fun, to say the least. Fal is peculiar, and I wish he would accept me, but I, too, wish for Hekate to prosper and remain innocent.” She gives a smirk, teasing, “If nothing else, her being naive and innocent makes it very easy for me to win.”
“I do not serve the Fievegal, so if you turn against Hekate or the young lord,...”
“Same to you,” interrupts Doephluev. “I serve my own interests, always. And, if you do anything that worsens my life, you will be my enemy.” She offers her hand, saying, “So, let’s mutually ensure that our goals stay aligned. And, we’ll clean up the messes our sweet, naive little Empress doesn’t need to know about.”
Cheshyret shakes Doephluev’s hand, replying with his cold tone warming just a little, “Agreed. Leave the Count to me.”
“Also, you’ll need to do something about the Zuzia imposter so we aren’t discovered prematurely.”
“Splitting my focus will slow me down,” warns the golem.
“Take your time and do it right. If you are the ‘right man’ for the job, you know that very well, I’m sure.”
He nods, asking before he disappears, “Anything else?”
“I won’t be able to warn you, but if Daniel deploys the nuke, making sure Zuzia’s golem is out of sight when the waves hit will be a plus.”
“Can’t we just assassinate ‘Zuzia’ as well? If I’m picking a fight with the imposter golem, it may be easier to simply erase her.”
“No. She is the best case scenario for us keeping an agent in Yaulander’s midst. He also knows she’s extremely difficult to kill, so it would be difficult to sell that anyone other than the Fievegal and the friars are secretly hoarding an assassin capable of killing someone as strong as her. The higher priority is preserving her cover. Just be ready for Yaulander to use her to defend Baumalde.”
“Friars… That’s the organization pulling the strings behind the continental war?”
“Yes. More specifically, if I’ve gathered correctly, they’re trying to resurrect an ancient being they worship as a god. And, Yaulander almost certainly serves them in some capacity. If he knows it, he will be difficult to question, so doing our best to follow him into their circle will be more reliable than trying to force our way in.”
“You seem to have thought of the most important parts,” murmurs Cheshyret. “I don’t know if I can make it happen in just a couple days.”
“You can be as aggressive as you need,” replies Doephluev. “I don’t mind if the other Empresses figure it out, since I will take ownership of the mission if they discover it. I will also deflect the Fievegal’s responsibility. The more you can do to make that job easier, the better, but if Yaulander finds out that the Zuzia he has in his possession is ours, then we lose our convenient eyes and ears into his inner circle.” She adds with amusement, “And, there is at least one country that would have very good reason to assassinate one of their own who betrayed them.”
The golem scoffs. “A country that wouldn’t survive the blowback from the Empire.”
“Inconsequential to me. But, also a non-issue if Yaulander does assume it’s a false flag run by us, which he almost certainly will. Erimaya reported that King Greydald kos Mornistae is working against us, and I believe he may be working with Yaulander through an intermediary.”
“I’m surprised you have so much information that even the golems haven’t been discussing within the Core.”
“Some of it is my own assumptions,” admits Doephluev. “But, I know how these things work probably better than anyone in the Fievegal right now. I was on the other side, after all. I overhear a piece, and I connect the dots. Though, I would appreciate it if you refrain from bringing it up to our allies for any reason.”
The golem chuckles. “Ah. So, you have some means of spying on your ‘friends’.”
“Wouldn’t you?” asks Doephluev, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Focus on taking out Baumalde, and if you can, sabotaging the void artillery such that it will destroy itself the next time it fires. Letting it fire may be needed for us to win against Yaulander, but I’d prefer not to be erased in the process if I happen to be the target. I’ll run interference on this end to keep Xyreko’s focus off of finding you acting ‘on your own’, but as a result, as I said…”
“I won’t be shielded from the nuke’s anti-magic effects when it goes off. Understood. Good luck, your Grace.”
“You as well, Cheshyret. May your blade be swift and precise.”
The golem bows, and he fades away. Doephluev hopes he can accomplish it, because she knows Baumalde is the one most likely to be able to create another void artillery in the near future, especially if it ends up on a small scale and can destroy a convoy or an encampment, rather than an entire military installation.
Even just the airship alone would be a vulnerable target.
Now then… I’ll need to keep up my end. Starting a fight with Ryuogriar is probably out of the question right now… Perhaps I’ll go upset the Stalvaltans guarding Thymeria again. It’s a little soon, but… Oh well.
The archoneldwyn looks around herself, still nauseous from the smell that carries over. She didn’t think the combined total population of the Fievegal could produce so much waste, but she understands why Daniel uses it as a hideout. Ucahote probably hoped she would abandon her plan or flub with Cheshyret if she couldn’t bear the smell.
But, of course, she has done and experienced far worse in the course of her work.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
She just never wanted to experience anything like it again.
I need to be careful not to let Daniel know how much I hate this place, or he may end up trying to torture me with it.
She smirks as she pets her own belly, but she feels a bit of tightness that is uncomfortable. She ponders it for only a moment before it seems to fade, so she takes a breath and returns to her tasks at hand. She has never had a pregnancy get this far in her life, and she’s in far better health than ever before, so it’s probably just something to do with the nature of being pregnant.
Must be nice to be the goblins, thinks the former assassin as she makes her way out of the sewage plant.
Her own challenges have only just begun.
***
A few minutes before Daniel’s awakening at the Citadel’s power plant, the knights of the Grand Principality scream and try to rally as a one-man force carves through them like a farmer reaping stalks of wheat.
“Bring forth the remaining tanju pistols!”
“Reload faster!
“Steady you aim-GEEAAAggghhh!”
A dagger flies and snatches the life of one of the officers even as another man screams in agony on the blade of his own sword.
Even those who have their Mornistae-designed tanju pistols handy hesitate to fire because of the acrobatic movements of the assailant.
“Fire, you cowards!” screams Sharnach kos Baumalde. He would try to flee, but the assailant is blocking the exit, and he already wounded the Count, who only barely managed to scramble away and meet up with his guards. But, as they tried to evacuate from the fortress in the Grand Principality near the domain estate, they found the drawbridge has been pulled up and the moat around it lit on fire.
Click-Boom!
One of the tanju pistols fires after flipping briefly through the air. The gatonine assailant slipped under the sword of one of the Strylaph knights defending Baumalde, lunged two body lengths in an incredible, low stride that put him into melee range of one of the men with his gun, snatching it with a precision grapple as the other men cried out and tried to step away, and the gatonine captured, aimed, and fired the tanju in a swift and precise movement.
The only thing that just saved Baumalde’s life as he topples against the drawbridge in the corner it forms with the wall is one of Yaulander’s knights who managed to throw himself in the way. Blood sprays across the wall and Sharnach screams, both from his own wounded arm landing in the dirt and the terror he is feeling as he narrowly escapes death.
The knight collapses onto Sharnach, and he coughs, unable to get out from under the armored soldier, who chokes on his own blood for a long time as he coughs up the crimson fluid. Sharnach keeps screaming, trying to get free.
“Help! Someone help me! I need help!”
The gatonine attacker parries a sword with his stolen tanju pistol, though his posture is growing more and more impatient. With his neverending acrobatics and high-speed attack, the foreign knight kicks the man he took the tanju from, and the Strylaph knight’s back hits the drawbridge. The assassin then throws the tanju at one of the other knights to disrupt a spear charge, and the feline hitman leaps against the bridge, springing off of it to kick the spearman in the face such that his momentum shifts just right, spearing the polearm into his ally and staking him against the wooden bridge with an agonized scream.
The assassin lands into a forward roll, swiftly recovering into a low crouch with his tail sweeping in an arc to keep his balance. Without wasting time, he slashes the back of another knight’s knees, dropping the man to the dirt before whirling upwards and cutting the side of the man’s neck, which immediately sprays a stream of blood as the knight screams and clutches his neck. Another man yells, “Healer! We need healers over here!”
It’s a call that has already been made a few times, but the fortress is split between several priorities right now. One is obviously protecting the Grand Prince, who is somewhere nearby, another is trying to aid Zuzia Spolskia, who is locked in battle with a boruan and a human sorcerer that appeared at the same time to launch a multi-prong attack that seems specifically focused on Zuzia and Sharnach.
“Don’t let him escape!” calls out a fresh voice that Sharnach is thankful to hear for once.
The Grand Prince brings a troop close, shouting to a handful of other knights, “Split up and get the Count clear! Gunmen, fire without hesitation or be held for treason!”
Sharnach hears these words, and they send a chill up his spine, but he is in too much pain and too afraid to really think about it.
“Wait-!” scream a couple of the knights that were already engaged in combat with the gatonine assassin, and only a few of them manage to dive away. One who tries to escape fails when the gatonine latches onto his back and maneuvers him such that the volley of tanju shots, including those from the longer tanju rifles that the blacksmiths have tried, all hit the Strylaph knight, piercing his armor and spraying blood. He becomes dead weight to the assassin, but he doesn’t seem afraid.
Instead, he jumps up onto the shoulders of knight and springs up high, managing to reach one of the murder holes above and hang from it briefly to bring his feet up against the ceiling of the gatehouse where Sharnach is cornered. Gatonines are historically one of the most daring races when it comes to fortress defense. They aren’t afraid to hang over the sides of castle walls and engage in horizontal combat where their lithe, acrobatic frames often grant them a massive advantage. They pioneered the defensive style in the harsh terrain of Mattarglos fending off monsters from above using trees, tall structures, and cliffs. Because it gives them a strong angle of archer fire on the base of the walls, even gatonines struggle to counter their own defensive strategy, since the defenders can so easily prepare advantages from above.
Unfortunately for the assassin, an entire crowd of knights is rushing to Count Baumalde’s aid.
But, working in his favor is the fact that Baumalde seems to be his only target.
***
Cheshyret studies the crowd of knights below him. He could land a suicide attack to finish Baumalde off from above, assuming none of the knights get lucky enough to stop him, but the way they’re crowding in, they won’t need much luck. He’ll have to survive the drop and fight his way down to the aristocratic magic artisan.
He’s also splitting his focus with the boruan-styled and human mage-styled puppet golems that he successfully managed to separate her from Yaulander, dragging the golem posing as the otherworlder into the moat.
Zuzia’s golem is still managing to fight valiantly, but she only has a golem’s level of strength. Cheshyret isn’t sure when the nuke is going to go off, but he got an urgent alert from Xyreko when she snapped at all of the golems about trying to find out who helped Daniel launch his mission, prompting the former Uhl’tall executioner to launch his attack as quickly as possible. He’s not sure how much time he has, but he needs to make sure Baumalde is dead by the end of it, and he has to try to make it look like it’s anyone other than the Fievegal for as long as possible.
Because, in addition to Daniel’s nuke mission, which has Xyreko upset enough already, Balamae is struggling to fend off Cheshyret’s puppets as she pilots the Zuzia puppet. She has reported to Xyreko that someone is launching a coordinated attack and seems to be trying to assassinate Zuzia, even at the expense of their own lives, and she’s not sure which faction it is.
In life, when he was an executioner, Cheshyret handled primarily demon-kin who committed crimes like murder or assault of a particularly heinous nature, since traitors within the Uhl’tall, particularly, are generally afflicted with the petrification curse by the Archpriestess in order to show just how severe it is. He feels nothing when taking life, since he has no regrets about all of the men and women who came under his blade. They were deemed guilty, and his job was to cut their lives short.
After he became a golem, Cheshyret served primarily as an interrogator for the non-feldrok races, since they could understandably be ‘larger than life’, and not really know how to question them or when such a person might be lying with emotional manipulation tactics.
The feldroks were wise and generally compassionate, but they recognized the dangers of letting their empathy cross over into self-detrimental domains.
It was rare that Cheshyret had to harm or kill anyone as a golem, but he appreciates the ability to take on ‘a new life’ via the mechanical soldier body he has now, adapting to whatever he needs to do in order to fulfill his mission.
A mission he does not take lightly.
Hekate and Fal represent the last of a great race, and though he’s admittedly bitter about Daniel being the one to conquer the Citadel, he won’t deny that Daniel has fiercely stood by his stance that Hekate is the Empress, and he does everything in his power to guide her to be a good person. They could stand to focus more on teaching Hekate to be a feldrok, but the fact that Daniel is ensuring she is healthy, wise, and strong is worthy of consideration at least.
And, Count Baumalde was part of the development of a weapon that can threaten Hekate even cloistered in the Citadel itself.
Most of the knights fired their rifles, and Cheshyret technically took hits, but they don’t need to know that part. The problem is, closing in on Baumalde will remain challenging, and Yaulander is comparatively wide open. Doephluev made a good point about avoiding assassinating him, especially because it’s an easier sell to go after a low-ranking lord instead of a domain ruler, but the fact that he is doing such a reckless assault in the absence of time will not work in his favor either way.
Let’s see if I can still do this…
The fake gatonine acts like he’s trying to climb up through the murder hole, which allows castle defenders above to dump oil, sand, or rocks onto invaders caught in the gatehouse if the inner portcullis is dropped.
He specifically discards his left hand, which gives him an anchor point to summon another golem to.
Time must be running out. I’ll need to move quickly.
Cheshyret uses the discarded hand to summon forth another golem, and with it, he swiftly dashes to the nearest barrel of drakeoak lamp oil. The golem assassin is aware that Daniel has mentioned off-hand that lamp oil in this world apparently pales in comparison to the options available on earth, but he does appreciate that it is a mass-producable ‘sap’ that is exported from an eastern nation at highly affordable prices.
Since magic stones are expensive, oil lamps maintain an affordable option for militaries and commoners to use, creating a massive market. The sap of the sleeping drakeoaks burns slowly on its own, but when thinned with certain alchemical mixtures and water, it becomes a highly efficient, but low-light alternative to magic crystal lights.
Or, as an emergency defensive tool, it is an excellent anti-personnel and anti-beast weapon of war.
With his primary gatonine golem, Cheshyret springs towards Yaulander, who is far more lightly guarded than the Count, and he lands in a hard tumble that would probably have broken something, even on a regular gatonine. Regardless, he is able to slide to a low crouch, springing towards the Grand Prince. He screams out orders as he backpedals, trying to shove a knight into Cheshyret’s path.
Meanwhile, the knights and soldiers protecting Count Baumalde try to make their move, dragging him to his feet and rushing along the drawbridge to the jammed chain mechanism. When defending from a siege, a chain-operated bridge crank can be the difference between life and death.
If your enemy has you trapped in your own fortress to be slaughtered one by one like chickens in a pen, then a chain that can’t be easily cut can keep you trapped if the mechanism is intentionally jammed.
And, while they try to swing wide to escape from the gatonine assassin, a tacky liquid rains down on them from above via several of the murder holes, and the men immediately cry out, “Wait!” “Wait!” “Allies! We’re allies!”
“Not my allies,” states Cheshyret dryly as his backup assassin golem drops a torch, vanishing in a teleport.
Men scream as his primary assassin tries to fight his way towards Yaulander, and the blond man swiftly and bravely flees into the crowd of guards closing in quickly to protect him. His primary mission should complete itself, so he withdraws the two that have been trying to ‘drown’ Zuzia, fleeing to the surface so they can escape.
Naturally, the Zuzia golem won’t be kept down, but…
A jolt hits Cheshyret’s consciousness, and he grunts. His spirit is no longer inhabiting any golems. His ‘surroundings’ are the ethereal ‘office’ of the Citadel’s core, where the sapient golems retain their sanity and identity, even as lingering souls bound to the fortress itself. It wouldn’t be wrong to say it is the ‘reality’ they are all awake within, and that any time they control a golem, interact with the inhabitants of the Citadel, or otherwise perform external tasks, they are ‘dreaming’.
So, in that sense, Cheshyret was just jolted awake in the Core, where Xyreko is still trying to multitask. She screams at Ucahote about helping Daniel go rogue, and her son stands rigidly, unashamed of obeying the orders assigned to him.
It seems like they have no idea what I was doing… But,...
Cheshyret ‘approaches’ Balamae and asks quietly as the screaming continues, “What’s going on?”
Balamae replies as Feno’xion also approaches, “Master Daniel asked Ucahote to cooperate with him so he could sneak in and use a nuke without anyone else knowing about it for as long as possible.”
“Why?” asks the former Chi’rinnis Feno’xion. “I was under the impression it was in the plan as the last resort anyways.”
“There was some friction and hesitation, I think,” replies Balamae.
“And, we’re all back here because the nuke went off?” asks Cheshyret, but he somewhat regrets it immediately.
It’s not everyone, now that he’s looking more carefully.
The spellmaster replies innocently, not seeming to suspect that Cheshyret has his own reasons to be suspicious as well, “That’s right. Though, it should only have affected anyone outside of the Citadel’s barrier at the time.”
“I see… That explains it,” replies the assassin cautiously.
“There are two more waves,” states Feno’xion, continuing, “So, it’s risky to try to return right away.”
“Wasn’t someone controlling that fake otherworlder?” asks Cheshyret. He knows the more he asks about specific things, the more likely he’ll be discovered, but he agreed with Doephluev when she assigned him; Zuzia’s identity is key to luring out darker enemies. And, since the ‘Lurker’ can summon Morthybargaron’s physical form into the real world from the void where she is trapped, then Hekate and the future of the feldroks is still very much in danger.
“That would be… Vini’terrek,” replies the golem pilot, pointing at a fellow former Chi’rinnis trying to get Xyreko’s attention while the former dattakorien continues to admonish her son and military liaison.
“I see… Was there a plan for what to do if her identity is exposed?” asks Cheshyret.
“I don’t know enough about that mission,” replies Feno’xion, and Balamae shakes her head as well.
“I believe our higher priority for the foreseeable future will be determining the fate of Master Daniel and Young Mistress Hekate. From… the sounds of it, Ucahote delivered Daniel directly to the heart of the mana fire, and Hekate rushed to his side… You’ll need to ask others how either of those things happened, though.”
Cheshyret scoffs and chuckles as he shakes his head. He finally starts to wander off, replying over his shoulder, “The children of our benefactors don’t make it easy on us, do they?”
“My heart tells me Daniel is still alive,” remarks Balamae confidently.
“I know,” retorts Cheshyret without looking at her. We all would know if he was gone. And,...
Cheshyret looks at Xyreko with sympathy as the panicked, enraged, mortified, terrified, and distraught dattakorien woman’s soul whirls on Vini’terrek to find out what the latter wants.
I don’t think our dear Caretaker would survive it…
Cheshyret doesn’t bother trying to spy on the two. The only thing they can hope for is that the disguise holds, and Yaulander’s reaction works into the Fievegal’s hands, rather than hinders them.
I wasn’t fast enough… Next time, I need to be even more careful.
He looks up at the ‘light source’ for the ‘office’, which is the manifestation of how the golems see the core while they’re within it.
I will protect the legacy of my saviors… Even if I must become a monster to do it.
***
Yaulander pants as one of his knights does his best to keep him on his feet, and Nesparu’s voice calls out orders to try to get the fire put out. Everyone has either dropped to their knees, with a few men who double over and vomit as others struggle to even limp towards the fire to try to help their comrades who continue to scream in agony.
Without warning, someone in the overhead gate defense station dropped drakeoak oil through the murderholes meant to defend the last line of defense for the fortress, and likely, it was fairly old, since the Grand Principality hasn’t been attacked in generations. The fortress is maintained for security, just like Centerhold was, but the freshness of relatively non-perishable materials, like the oils and water, are generally left neglected to save money, since even if drakeoak oil loses its flammability, which is rare, it can be used as boiling oil, and can easily be thickened by boiling off some of the thinning agents and water used to make it less tarry than the sap that comes from the trees themselves. This makes it a nightmare for armored soldiers if it works its way inside of the plates. Rather than flow off in any meaningful amount, it will cling and bake a person in full plate or slough every inch of their skin off that it makes contact with, as if melting a person like a candle.
But, this ambush proved one thing; there was a coordinated effort to assassinate someone within the Grand Principality, and given the attack was launched against Zuzia and Baumalde, Yaulander can pretty confidently guess he wasn’t the actual target himself. Simply the ability to remove Zuzia from his proximity would be a feat, and being able to kill him with her as an obstacle should be nearly impossible.
Instead, they dedicated their attack to dragging her away, which would seem to be step one in making the Grand Prince vulnerable while he evacuated with his knights.
Instead, the attack on Zuzia seems to have almost been a distraction, since it did succeed in pulling defensive forces away from the Count.
And, if that wasn’t enough, a sudden wave of weakness similar to the ones that happened a few months ago washed across everyone in the fortress, from the looks of it, because everyone is in various stages of recovering their footing and standing up to try to resume what they were doing.
Even Yaulander felt like his heart was suddenly giving out, only for it to keep beating on its own when he could finally gasp for breath.
Just as he’s catching his breath and steadying his own heart, Nesparu calls out, “Y-Your Majesty!”
“What!?” snaps the Grand Prince, irritated about the attack and enraged that someone would be so brazen. He shoves himself free of the guard keeping him close, and he moves to where Nesparu is.
Several knights and the Count are gathered around an object lying on the ground.
It’s not a gatonine assassin, as one would reasonably believe. And, it’s not a gatonine’s armor with the body suddenly disintegrated or melted, since the would-be assassin didn’t get caught in any noticeable attacks.
Rather, this form looks like a suit of armor too small to actually be worn by a person, not because it’s too short, but because there isn’t enough space for a body, arms, legs, or a head to actually fit within the pieces of metal that make up the body.
“Is that what I think it is?” murmurs one of the knights.
“It would explain why he was so strong…”
“Count Contarro, what am I looking at right now?” asks the Grand Prince. He already has a pretty solid idea, but he wants to hear it out loud to confirm.
“I am no expert, your Imperial Eminence, but in my limited experience, I would say with a fair degree of certainty that it appears to be a mana-controlled puppet soldier. Commonly generalized as a…”
“Golem…” growls the blond man as he pushes his bangs back with his hand to help him think. “The Fievegal.”
The knights fidget, and Nesparu makes a hesitant movement before finally speaking up. “Your Majesty… I would… caution you to allow for a more thorough investigation…”
“That would be unnecessary,” retorts Nesparu as he removes his gloves, which have become filthy with his various stumbles, and he hands them to his loyal Count. “I know it was them. It seems they were attempting to kill me, but in a specific way…” He looks at the unrecognizable charred figures that were once his knights.
Was this your plan, Daniel? To burn me alive? Very well, then. I’ll be sure to return this disgrace in kind.
“Send a messenger to divert the void artillery back to the Grand Principality and make course for Reeffjord. This is a declaration of war between two men. And, I intend to return kindness with kindness.” The Grand Prince then turns back to the smoking corpses as the knights manage to get the fire under control, but have more casualties than survivors.
“What’s the status of Count Baumalde? Have you identified his body yet?”
Nesparu winces slightly while the Grand Prince isn’t looking. The blond ruler’s coldness towards his men seems to be getting worse. His tone doesn’t waver looking upon the melted fusions of flesh and metal that were once loyal knights sworn to serve and protect him, and he hasn’t said a word of sympathy for the magic artisans and soldiers that died in Mornistae or Centerhold.
One of the knights that is searching the bodies for survivors to try to swiftly heal them calls out, “I believe so, your Majesty! This one doesn’t have armor. He appears to be alive.”
“Do what it takes to keep him so,” orders the Grand Prince. “His testimony will be useful to show the heinous barbarism of the vile bandits calling themselves ‘the Fievegal’.”
Yaulander storms away, shouting, “And, find the blacksmith who last serviced the drawbridge and hang him. A fortress that traps its lord within is gross negligence if not collusion with high treason.”
“Your Majesty!” urges Nesparu, horrified by the implication.
“Calm yourself, Count Contarro. I don’t intend to hang his whole family. The Fievegal appears to have acted on their own. The blacksmith’s crime is simply dangerous negligence that should be rooted out.”
This leaves the knights and Nesparu speechless as the Grand Prince makes his way towards the castle itself. “Oh, and last thing, find Rat and make sure the Fievegal didn’t try anything with her. And, gather up all of the golems. We’ll present them to the Eastern Alliance as we condemn the Fievegal.”
Nesparu watches the Blond man’s back, who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world for a man who was supposedly about to be assassinated.
The Count looks to where the alleged Baumalde is, pondering the poor wretch’s grim fate. Even if healing magic can keep him alive, his life is likely to be one of suffering for the rest of his days.
His Majesty already believes Baumalde embellished his role in developing the void artilleries. If anything, he seems to only be an expert on mana routing, which anyone could do ‘well enough’. So, why would the Fievegal feel the need to assassinate him? Should we so easily dismiss the possibility Mornistae had a hand in this?
He looks at the golem again, which a couple of knights are gathering up the disconnected pieces to preserve for evidence as ordered.
Though, the stories from the failed sieges of the Citadel indicate they use golems in force, but at this range from their castle? That could be more threatening than the guns themselves.
Nesparu lets out a defeated sigh.
The rise of the Fievegal has been truly exhausting on every level.
***
