BLAKE PUDDING [1st Draft]

B02:C32 – It Ends and Begins with WAR!



Well, there I stood, gazing at the marvel before me, with a gentle smile on my lips and the wind in my hair.

"I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh, me. And I've been waiting for this moment, for all my second life, oh, me. Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh, me, oh, me," I sang, a parody of my favorite song, to myself. Yes, I know it's a far cry from my death metal obsession, but hey, I have a soft spot for some softer things.

Speak for yourself, Dream.

Okay, Miss, let’s go Barbie—

Fine! You win… this round.

As I watched my Phantasmal Mist unfurl, it formed a veil that concealed us from the view of the looming armada. The reds, blues, and purples of their magical attacks slashed through the air, narrowly missing us each time, igniting firework-like displays within the mist. It was quite a sight, truly—if only the beastkin would just shut the fuck up with their ceaseless crying and screaming—geesh!

"Yo, fake bunny," I called out, turning to Kadia. "Any chance you could get the noncombatants below deck?" It was more of an urging than a question.

Kadia glanced back at me, then to all the screaming and crying beastkin who kept shrieking with every shot fired at us. "Y-Yes, I can do that," she nodded.

Honestly, I was tempted to tell her to throw those useless fucks overboard, but since most of them seemed to look at me with a kind of reverence, I opted to be somewhat nice about it… for now. I was at least grateful we were moving instead of just floating like a bunch of dumbasses, like ducks in a pond—fucking ridiculous. Yes, if you haven’t noticed, I’m in a mood right now.

Umm… She’s in a mood, not me, I’m good.

Zip it, Dream!

It was the Barbie remark, wasn’t it?

…You didn’t have to call me out like that. I’ve got a reputation to keep. You know, dark and scary Nightmare, who kills and eats our victims.

My bad, Nightmare. You’re right, you’re the big baddy. But, I also enjoy eating our victims, I just like to have a bit more fun doing it. Why don’t we kill an elf or something, and make a necklace out of their intestines? You would like that, wouldn’t you?

…Maybe.

Oh, and we can use their ass for a hat. An asshat!

I hate you.

Yeah, me too.

An explosion of magic, mana, or plasmana as I've decided to coin it, rattled the airship. It may have missed us, but a few sparks landed on the ship, even bursting a few handrails into splinters. With how close it had been when it detonated, I'm surprised there wasn't more damage. Actually, the more I thought about it, I was surprised they've been missing; this ship is rather large, I'm talking ark size. I mean, we're literally holding the entire beastkin population aboard, all fifteen of them—kidding. I honestly don't know how many are onboard, somewhere between five hundred to five thousand, I guess. What? It's not like I'm going to do a head count or give a fuck if a few hundred end up missing. That’s someone else’s problem.

“What’s with the warp engines?” Jason murmured beside me, his gaze fixed on the nacelles of the airship.

“I don’t know, our horny dragon woman is a Trekkie,” I grumbled.

“Horny?” he began to question.

“Yeah, she has horns on her head, so, horny,” I explained nonchalantly, waving off the comment as another burst of incoming plasmana exploded above us, sending magical sparks raining down around us.

“Wait—Trekkie?” Jason’s eyes nearly bulged out of his creepy face. “Is she also from Earth?”

I nodded. “That’s yesterday’s news.”

Just then, the airship—Eternal Heartburn, Slower than Eternity, or whatever stupid name Nikola had given it—suddenly jerked forward as if it were on a quarter-mile drag strip. Even the nose of the boat tipped skyward, causing quite a few to tumble. I even witnessed one poor bastard, that beaver-faced fucker from earlier, fall overboard. I pretended not to see anything.

"Another nacelle just finished. Brace!" Nikola shouted.

"A little fucking late on that warning," Jason cursed.

I just shrugged, feeling a bit indifferent. Sure, we lost one person, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who noticed, and my lips were sealed. Besides, it's not like we could do anything about it, could we? I mean, magic is a thing... Nope, doesn't matter.

“Well, expect that to happen two more times,” Nikola replied over her shoulder as she steered the ship.

I noticed we were slowly ascending. At this rate, we would end up above the mist my magic was putting out—well, I say 'my magic,' but I honestly hadn’t learned how to use the skill on my own without the system, so technically, it was the system’s magic, which was fine.

Technically, Dream. We have no magic, remember?

Oh, right. The whole ambient mana thing—wait! Why the hell do we have this hole open in our chest venting mana if we’re not using it?

Theatrics?

That’s right. Without knowing how a spell properly works, I’m dependent on the system to cast it, which has its own mana pool. How much mana is in there, or how much it takes to cast a spell, are all beyond me. Seriously, whoever designed this system was either an idiot or just didn’t like dealing with numbers… In any case, Phantasmal Mist is running off of the system, and has nothing to do with my manipulation of ambient mana around me.

Well, fuck! I’m closing Stellar Void.

Huh, shame. I like how it starts glowing all orange when it’s been open for a bit.

I don’t think that’s a good sign.

Either way, I like it.

Just as I closed Stellar Void, the opening into the Dungeon Core within me, the airship made it above the mist, sailing on top of it. Well, it was more like we were spitting out the mist from behind us, but that was fine. The front half of the airship looked like it was flying through the air, while the back half trailed a misty lake behind it. Oh, and our pursuers were still chasing us from somewhere within that mist, firing blindly in hopes of hitting us. It was quite endearing, like an annoying chihuahua that doesn’t know when to shut the hell up.

Flying so high was absolutely freeing; I was half-tempted to start singing another little jingle to myself. However, my mood was utterly ruined when Miss Holy Buzzkill stepped up beside me. That said, I was taken aback when she held up a large crystal, about the size of a ping pong ball, and peered through it at her eye. Okay, that was just odd.

"Whaaatcha doing?" I asked, adopting my most innocent voice and holding back the urge to just snatch the object from her hands for a closer look. Nope... definitely not doing that.

Of course, the woman let out a little huff of annoyance before answering, “I’m keeping an eye out for our pursuers.”

“Ooooh, so that thing is like a spyglass,” I said, rocking back and forth on my heels, my gaze fixed on the round crystal she held to her eye.

“I suppose, yes,” she answered, her tone indicating she was utterly uninterested in having a conversation with me.

"Cool," I replied nonchalantly, before abruptly snatching the crystal right out of her hand.

Ignoring her protests, I held the crystal to my eye, and, much to my surprise—or perhaps as I anticipated—it functioned just like a spyglass. Peering around, I had an eagle-eyed, zoomed-in view of everything. It was rather neat. I turned over to Von Von, and whoops, I didn't mean to get a zoomed-in view right up her flaring nose. Redirecting my gaze with the crystal back over the mist behind us, I suddenly found myself staring at a wooden object, resembling a basket, with a person in it who was staring right back at me through their own crystal. Wait, isn't that a crow's nest on an… airship. Shit!

"They found us," I muttered under my breath.

“Give that back,” Vanya harrumphed.

"No, mine! Get your own," I retorted, swatting at her outstretched hands that were reaching for my newly dubbed 'spycrystal'—yep, I’m coining that term as well. My playful slapping of Holy Bitch’s hands froze as I noticed the rest of the airship chasing us rise from the mist.

I got a good look at one of the individuals aboard it: a large, bald man with dark brown skin, muscles upon muscles, dressed like a He-Man cosplayer. “Oh, shit,” I whispered, recognizing the bastard whose neck I had broken, none other than the husband of the woman who wanted to steal my new toy.

“Umm, Vanya,” I said, my tone losing all traces of teasing, causing her to pause her mission to reclaim what was rightfully MINE—well, only momentarily, before she quickly shoved me, knocking me off balance, and snatching the crystal from my grasp.

There was a long pause from her as she stared at the airship chasing us, her hand visibly shaking. I was utterly unsure if she would suddenly switch sides and try cutting everyone on this ship down before joining her husband or not. Honestly, she was the worst matchup for me; her entire magic build was Holy and Fire—or was it Holy Fire?—either way, it was the two things I was weak against. Maybe Jason could take her? I glanced over at the jagged-toothed fucker picking his nose with a dagger and quickly abandoned that train of thought.

A long silence enveloped the ship, stretching further as another airship emerged from the trail of mist I was venting out. Ever so slowly, I stepped away from the elf woman, uncertain of her next move. On one hand, she seemed to view her former kingdom as a bunch of dicks. On the other, I had killed her husband, but surprise—he's back, so all should be good, right? Yet, that was exactly the problem. Would she attempt to join him now that he’s returned?

Right then, the last two nacelles on the airship came online—or finished growing? Honestly, this whole tree-growing fantasy airship concept was beyond my comprehension. And really, four nacelles, Nikola? Isn't that a bit overkill? In any case, our vessel experienced a much greater surge of speed than before, its nose pointing upward as we rocketed forward. And wouldn't you know it, we lost another beastkin overboard. You know those movies with that sound effect they always recycle when someone falls? The one they even used for a Storm Trooper plummeting to his doom in the Death Star… The Wilhelm Scream, that's it! I swear on my mother, that beastkin made that exact sound when he fell off the back of the airship! I couldn't help but chuckle at that. This time, though, everyone noticed the falling beastkin, and unfortunately, my chuckling too.

Another beastkin, a guy who looked almost human except for the bullhorns and cow ears on his head, ran to the edge of the ship. With a snap of his fingers, the one who had just fallen overboard reappeared on the ship.

"Huh, I often forget everyone has magic," I muttered, trying not to think about the beaver-looking guy who had fallen overboard earlier—the one no one else but me had seen. Oopsies…

That aside, we were making some serious speed. The rest of the armada was now above my mist, well, what remained of it. I had just stopped casting it—by choice, and totally not because I was out of system mana, nope, not at all… Okay, maybe I was out of system mana. Man, I really wish there was some kind of indicator or notification on how much I had and when I was running low. Regardless, with all four of our tree engines running, the other airships with their pathetic sails couldn’t keep up. In fact, they seemed to have accepted this fact as well and were already turning back around.

I glanced over at Vanya and noticed her wiping away a single tear. She showed no signs of betraying us or jumping ship. Well, that would be a long fall, but she was a Champion, my Champion, so I think she could survive it. It would be best if I avoided her for now, though. I'm not exactly the go-to for emotional speeches or comfort. But I wouldn’t mind stealing back my spycrystal. What?! It was a cool little thing, and it was pretty.

“Cannons are now working,” Nikola bellowed out.

“Pfft, a bit late for that,” I grumbled, shaking my head. Nonetheless, with a shrug and a wide smile still on my face, and a keen desire to stay away from Moody Elf, I made my way to the bow of the ship.

As I looked ahead, gazing into the direction we were heading, a sense of eager anticipation washed over me. In a soft, almost introspective tone, I whispered to myself, "I’ll see you soon, my Aurelia."

~

General Ezad Anlyth's heart weighed heavy, like a stone sinking in deep waters, as he signaled the fleet to cease its pursuit of the beastkin survivors. The day's events unfurled in his mind like a dark tapestry—a tragic narrative for the kingdom. They had not only lost a Champion, a beacon of hope, but witnessed a more stinging betrayal: his ex-wife, a former Champion herself, now siding with their foes.

The air seemed to thicken around him, each breath a labor, as he grappled with the incomprehensible. How could she? Why? The questions swirled in his mind like leaves in a storm, each one a needle prick to his already bleeding heart. Amid the chaos of battle, he had seen her, unmistakably Vanya Anlyth, amidst the enemy ranks. Her eyes, once warm with shared dreams, now cold and alien, struck him deeper than any blade. In that moment, her betrayal was not just to the kingdom, or the gods, but to the very sanctity of their shared past.

His gaze drifted to the fading horizon, where the last light of day bled into dusk, mirroring the waning hope in his soul. The toll of this day was more than the loss of soldiers or strategy; it was the shattering of an ideal, a personal devastation that would haunt the corridors of his heart for eternity.

Ezad commanded the armada of airships to return to the shattered remnants of the Beastveil Kingdom, a place now wearing the scars of war like a mournful shroud. His heart, a reservoir of futile hope, clung to the faint possibility of recovering Einarr’s body, though he knew deep down the chances were as bleak as the ruined city below.

As the ships descended, ghostly silhouettes against the twilight sky, they pierced the veil of destruction that blanketed the once-thriving metropolis. The General, his voice a hollow echo of command, dispatched dozens of patrols amidst the rubble. They scoured for traces of the beastkin, clues to their destination, even their secrets. Yet, for Ezad, the quest bore a more personal weight—any sign of Vanya, any scrap of understanding for her incomprehensible betrayal.

Amid issuing orders, a figure emerged from the ruins—a beastkin, starkly nude, yet carrying himself with an unsettling regality. His skin was an emerald green, a vivid contrast to the grey desolation around him. His body was an odd juxtaposition of a slight pot belly and lanky limbs, crowned with a large, frog-like head and face. This creature, an embodiment of the alien and familiar, approached them with a disturbing sense of ease, as if oblivious to the chasm of enmity between them.

“Greetings,” the figure croaked.

Ezad's eyes narrowed, a tumult of revulsion and intrigue wrestling within him as he scrutinized this bizarre beastkin. Then, as the creature basked in the fractured light, a flicker of recognition ignited in the General's mind. This was no ordinary beastkin, but a vampire, the very same they had interrogated before his untimely demise.

“Seize him,” Ezad commanded, his voice cutting through the eerie stillness.

Just as his order was given, the heavens above violently split open in a spectacular display of pinks and blues, creating a scene so surreal it seemed as if the very sky was tearing apart. Time itself appeared to stand still, as Ezad and his men gazed upward, completely captivated by the apocalyptic yet awe-inspiring spectacle unfolding before them. A convergence was happening right above them, a rare cosmic event of unimaginable scale.

The colors in the sky swirled and danced, forming a mesmerizing and terrifying tapestry against the backdrop of the night. Ezad felt a thrilling chill crawl up his spine as he witnessed a second burst of radiant light cutting through the cosmos.

"A double convergence," Ezad muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of wonder and disbelief. In his long life, he had witnessed many convergences, entire worlds ripped from their realms to become yet another moon orbiting Völuspá. However, he had never before witnessed a double convergence.

Ripping his gaze from the celestial marvel above, General Ezad turned to his soldiers and mages, his voice booming across the ruins, shattering the spell of awe that had held everyone captive. "Back to your ships!" he roared, his command slicing through the surreal calm like a blade. The urgency in his tone was unmistakable, snapping everyone back to the grim reality they faced.

There was no longer any time to sift through the debris of the Beastveil, no moments to spare in a futile chase after his ex-wife, or in seeking vengeance for their fallen Champion. The double convergence had changed everything in an instant. Just as with every convergence before, but magnified now by its unprecedented nature, it heralded one inevitable outcome: WAR!


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