Metaworld Chronicles

The Northern Steppes.

Orsk.

One of the reasons why the Horse Lords were the unchallenged species on the Steppes, Richard observed, was that no other Demi-human race or monster kind could match their aggression, numbers, and tenacity. For instance, in one day, the Horse Lords had covered four hundred kilometres of broken plains, rolling rockscapes, and a low ascent into the foothills of the Ural Mountains.

Initially, Richard had planned for a two-day journey. Yet, by twilight, the Horse Lords were cooling their heated bodies in the waist-high waters of the Ural River's rocky rapids.

"The city is over the river—" Petra pointed at the silhouette in the distance. "But Phalera's brood reports there are no lights or sound. Either the railway stations and the HDM processing plants are demolished—or someone shut them down to avoid drawing attention."

The Horse Lords chortled.

"Well, the water in the river isn't that polluted," Richard added his two cents from Lea. "If there is a Necrophage, it hasn't reached here yet."

"We should still wait til morning," Petra advised from her Strider. "The Russian Mage Flights likely won't respond diplomatically to a vanguard of Centaurs, especially ones as well armed as the Cherbi's men."

His cousin's paranoia was sound, for even at a safe distance, Khudu's body spoke the same language of ultraviolence as Golos—Not to mention the Thunder Dragon would make himself known the moment combat was joined. Without Gwen here, and if these Mages tried to Fireball Golos, the reputation of Shalkar might take a nosedive.

"What usually lives here?" he asked of their furry guide. "Just Humans?"

"Your city was once named Hom Orsko," the Kobold boldly answered, her voice a deep drone of passive aggression. "We had warrens here, thousands of them…"

Richard waited to see if the Kobold had anything valuable to add.

"This is true, Warrior Richard. In the time of my Father's Father, the Khan of Khans," Khudu spoke with the neutrality of a documentary orator. "The Human Khan of your Empire paid our people to raze this place for pasture. Hahaha…glorious! Was that your kindred?"

Richard greatly admired Khudu's candour, though he couldn't say the same for the Horse Lord's sense of humour.

Turning away, the Kobold showed that silence was a virtue.

"That would be… before the Great War," Petra broke the awkwardness with her husky voice. "The city as it is now was built after the war, under the rule of the Communists. It was destroyed again in the Beast Tide, then rebuilt as an industrial outpost. There are countless tunnels here, not enough to rival our Dwarven under-city, but the shafts provide good cover against overland threats."

"Unless something's come up from the Murk," Richard added. "But I digress. If the Cherbi doesn't mind, let's wait for the first light. Khudu, I dare say your men deserve some rest."

"Centaurs can travel for many star cycles if we pace ourselves," the Cherbi spoke as he scooped a cupful of the icy water over his exposed pectorals, wiping away the dust and grime with a rough cloth. "We can still fight in our best condition, but if you insist…"

"It's not about the risk," Richard offered. "To save them through violence in the dead of night would make a poor impression, Lord Cherbi. We're here to build a reputation; the rescue is merely a process."

The Horse Lord, laconic as always, left the Humans to their devices.

"Vurtu." Richard summoned the Kobold female. "Come, you and I will go for a stroll. Lea will keep us near-invisible. Use your nose, and let's sus out some bodies…"

At first light, Mila Kutznetsova awoke in their tattered tent to the sound of hard boots kicking up the gravel just outside their tent flap. She groaned, for though her fairness betrayed her age, her body ached like an old farmer's hands from the spell fatigue weighing down her brain.

"Mikhail…" the Magus Enchanter croaked from parched lips, her voice kept low. "I think it's the Lieutenant Colonel and his men. They're outside."

"Sukin syn!" her husband grumbled under his breath, his foggy eyes abruptly hard with purpose. "The bastard doesn't know when to give up."

"Hold your temper, Mikhail." Mila shared her husband's ire. Between her superior, who didn't know his place, and her husband, whose temper was made worse by their destitution, she felt an acute desire to wall herself in crystal.

Mikhail was paranoid over Lt Colonel Ivanov's overfamiliarity and dishonourable intentions. Yet, Mila could not deny that she and Sergey had a history and that she knew the man enough to understand that he intended to shame her husband into eating his inferiority. Once classmates, they were now in their forties, and what little remained of the passion and jealousy was only pettiness.

"Comrade Mikhail and Mila!" the voice that penetrated the thin fabric was not its usual haughty invitation to the Officer's breakfast mess, which Mila had refused daily, but one of forced friendliness. "We have guests. And it's someone dear to our sister. Please make yourselves presentable and join us."

Mila looked at her husband, who remained stoic and possessed. Mikhail was not the brightest of her suitors, but he was the most earnest, and her in-laws were kind and uncomplicated, very much the opposite of Sergey's elite circles in Moscow's Tower.

Moscow... She and Mikhail had already lost a daughter to that nest of gilded vipers. That was why she had convinced Mikhail to take the demotion into the Frontiers, where, at least, they would be at peace. Though some peace that turned out to be.

Mikhail sighed. "Alright, love. Let's get ready."

Mila sensed her husband's unvoiced criticism, though she did not share Mikhail's opinion that she had made a poor decision to relinquish their Moscovite privileges. Before last week, if any member of the inner Party had announced that Yekaterinburg would fall to an implosive infestation of Undead, the Committee for State Security would pull them into a dark room for a long conversation.

It took the pair a few minutes to don their uniforms and run a quick cleaning incantation. When Mikhail, clean-shaven, finally opened the tent flap, Milas was surprised not by the face of her old classmate but by a visage as unfamiliar as it was familial.

She was looking at a younger version of herself— a girl with a face that was vivacious and aggressively sensual, with blue-hued irises that resembled twin pools of purified water.

"O—Oomnyashka?! "her lips stumbled. "Petra, is that you?"

"Mama!" The figure embraced her with unyielding, enveloping arms. Through the fabric of her olive uniform, she felt the strange lumps and bumps that adorned her daughter's self-made Enchanter's garb. "Everything is okay now. I am here for you and Papa. The Regent sent us to find you and guide you back to Shalkar."

Mila allowed herself a dozen breaths while the world fell away, and all she could feel was the warmth of her daughter's cheek. When they finally separated, Petra moved to deliver the same welcome to her disbelieving husband.

"Oomnyashka." Mikhail struggled to recover himself, still calling Petra the nickname of Papa's dearest bunny from before they had sent her away. "My god, you are taller than me! I am happy you are here, but it's dangerous! The city… So many did not escape, Petra. And all of them will soon come to hunt us."

Besides the reunited family, Mila caught Sergey's impatience as the man inched forward.

"Colonel Ivanov, why don't we take our official matters over here," the Mage that spoke was not her superior but a spectacled Water Magus with a fair appearance. "Lord Khudu is out there, his patience growing thin."

"It's Lt Colonel." Her old classmate suppressed his displeasure. "I am the highest commanding officer of this refuge, and I will need to verify your claims before we move my men anywhere."

"Of course." The Chinese Magus appeared completely unfazed by Sergey's assertion of rank. "But do be quick, Colonel. We are here to escort you to safety, not an unimpressed Cherbi."

Cherbi? Mila's mind turned. Horse Lords? What was her daughter doing with the Centaurs?

"Mila." To her surprise, Sergey turned instead to her and Mikhail. "You and Mikhail will remain here while I discuss the rescue operation with Magus Huang. As members of our mage Flights, I forbid you both from exiting the camp."

So we're bargaining chips? Mila read her schoolmate's intentions at once. Just because my daughter is a part of the rescue team?

"Did you forget we are civilians, Ivanov," Mikhail's protest was almost a growl. "We are not your subordinates. We follow orders out of duty, not rank."

"Mikhail," Sergey's retort was far less patient now that her husband wasn't so meek. The man's eyes flashed. As a Lightning Mage, Sergey was far more gifted in combat. "The city is under Martial Law. Don't make me repeat myself."

CLAP!

The Water Mage interrupted them both.

"Alright, I can see you're all stressed. No matter, you'll be relaxing in a hot bath soon," The exclamation of the Chinese Magus made the tense atmosphere unable to continue. "Pats, take care of your family. I'll organise the move with the Colonel here."

"Petra." Mila lowered her voice. "Is this your CO?"

"Something like that, and he's your nephew," Petra whispered back through a localised Message. "Please keep that to yourself."

With the upper echelon of their camp's leaders moving away, Mila calmed her heart.

"Bunny." she still couldn't believe Petra was taller than herself. Petra wasn't even thirteen the last time she had seen her daughter. "I heard about what happened in Shanghai. Are you alright? Is Aunty alright?"

"Tianjin. Babulya is fine, Mama. Uncle Jun is saved, and many others. We left as soon as we found out that Yekaterinburg had lost its Magi," her daughter corrected the name of the besieged city. The more Mila gazed upon her daughter, more larger-than-life Petra became. As a mother and a fellow Enchanter, she could sense the boundless energies within her child, which possessed a quality and volume that exceeded herself. "I am so glad you're both safe. I prayed to Varekan-Kül that you would be found, and I was right."

"Varekan-Kül?" her husband raised a brow. "Are you religious now?"

"A Dwarven Ancestor." Their daughter's fingers brushed past her Enchanter's garb, where Mila could see a dozen small plates interlocked into a pattern. "Very reliable, the Ancestors."

"Dwarven Runes?" Mila recognised the patterns. "Petra, what are they teaching you in England? What happened to Spellcubes?"

"This is from my studies and research." Petra appeared to search for something. "I have passed the accreditation to become a Journeyman. I came on a Strider as well, Mama. I built it…"

"That's all very good," Mikhail interrupted them. "But like I said, bunny. Here is a dangerous place. Yekaterinburg—Bah! By St Michael, Petra! You cannot imagine the carnage. Everyone we knew for a decade became fodder for the Necromancers or turned into monstrosities that would hunt us for our warm breath."

"As long as there isn't a Lich, it's not so bad." Petra's unperturbed tone disturbed Mila. "Mama, we couldn't tell you, but Gwen and I spent six months at sea fighting more Undead than you have seen in your lifetimes. In Tianjin, we also repelled legions. You will all be fine."

"That's a dangerous arrogance." Her husband wasn't convinced. "The Undead, bunny, are beyond reason and comprehension…"

"The things Gwen summons daily are beyond human imagination." Their daughter shook her pretty head with a confidence that her husband could not comprehend. "Stop worrying, Papa. You'll see. Our Regent will be happy to meet you both finally."

Her husband nodded to humour their child. Mila felt a new worry engender in her chest. If this Regent is truly their niece, how would she take to a family that once "sold" her cousin to Moscow Tower? Petra's training in Moscow was highly encouraged by herself and Mikhail, who had wished Petra a fruitful career out of fear and hope—but they all knew how that turned out. And in their exile to Yekaterinburg, they seldom contacted Petra except for the seasonal greetings and when Petra called, leaving her entirely in the capable hands of Aunt Klavdiya. According to rumours, this Regent, for all intents and purposes, was a monstrous existence, an exterminator of cities, a Void Witch famous enough to be known even in Moscow's Frontiers.

"Da, Papa." Petra's digits moved to envelop theirs. Her daughter's hand was calloused and rough from the Enchantment work. "Don't overthink, and come with me to Shalkar al-Jadeedah. Forget about Moscow. There are opportunities in our city you cannot imagine. It's Gwen's domain, and she is a fair and visionary leader."

Her husband did not refuse their daughter's offer, and she could feel his worries growing. The loss of its Ural Frontier might weaken Moscow, but a crippled behemoth is still a monstrous existence. Its claws are long and unyielding…

As for this Shalkar al-Jadeedah of Petra's—

If indeed the Mageocracy's New Frontier was as richly endowed as her daughter promised, what rewards would the likes of Sergey see when they were inducted into its welcoming halls? At the apex of Moscow's Tower, those old Magisters were gilded Goblins wearing human-skin masks!

Tryfan.

Trawsfynydd Trading Post.

After loading up on several Large Storage Rings of rare and local goods, the Regent of Shalkar was ready to depart the Pillar of the Axis Mundi.

"ISTC, please." She bowed her head at the towering figure of Sanari. "Now that things have settled where they lie, I want to confirm a few things in the South China Sea."

"You will see to your worshippers?" Sanari's golden eyes twinkled. "Will you partake in Faith Magic to employ their psychic energies? Studying Humanity's esoteric arcanistry is a significant challenge, or so I've heard from my colleagues, but your time isn't overwhelmingly abundant."

"Perhaps one day, but certainly not now." Gwen shook her head. "I am merely arranging the pieces for our hunt for Spectre and Sobel. On land, we've reasonable allies everywhere, but the sea has remained a blindspot for too long."

“True,” Sanari concurred. "Even your Master could not tame the Coral Sea, not even with the aid of Lord Shultz and Magus de Botton. That you've somehow claimed a Shoal as your own is unprecedented in the Mageocracy's records."

Gwen tilted her head, suddenly interested in the omission of information from the Hvítálfar. "What about your records?"

Sanari's smile informed Gwen that she had swallowed a lure. "Humans have always been aquatic creatures from the very beginning. Your kind have an affinity for water. Despite the obvious dangers, your most prosperous cities are coastal, and your empires rarely flourish without taking from the sea its near-limitless resources."

"I can see how that works," Gwen nodded. "I can also think of a few land-bound civilisations, but go on."

"Of course. You've heard of Atlantis," Sanari dropped a Fireball beside her ear.

Gwen took a second to stifle the glee fleeing from her throat. "I am not familiar with it. But we all know the stories. Care to enlighten me?"

Sanari pointed at the horizon.

"Not long ago, during what your mortal race would call the Age of Antiquity, the Humans of the Aegean Sea mastered enough of their Faith Magic to summon from the Elemental Plane of Water the likeness of a God."

"An Elemental Prince?" Gwen tried to picture a being like Triton from Disney's Little Mermaid, calling up waves like a cheap Poseidon.

"An adolescent Leviathan, actually," Sanari humoured her. "The creature resonated with the Faith of these masterful worshippers of water and allowed them to build a prosperous city upon its carapace. The result was decades of absolute dominion where Atlantis unquestioningly controlled every trade route from the Aegean to the Mediterranean, enjoying a prosperity their land-bound cousins could not conceive."

"Real estate is infinitely better than handsome demi-gods." Gwen could imagine the thriving city, which would be something like an aircraft carrier of antiquity. "Go on."

"There's not much more I know." Sanari's smile remained patient, like a small, pink peach flower. "The Elemental Princes later discovered their missing flock and found it more worthwhile to eradicate their wayward kindred than to allow peaceful co-existence."

"I see," Gwen bowed her head again. "So this is history as allegory. A little slice of wisdom from my allies of the Accord for my next excursion?"

"Receive it how you will," The Druid waved her hand in an arc, coaxing from the ground a sampling that would soon become a portal to pierce time and space. "Know that there are Mermen and Elementals, native and foreign, and either can be friend or foe."

"I don't suppose there's a shorthand method of telling who's who?" Gwen took advantage of her thick skin. After all, it never hurts to ask.

"As a prospective member of the Accord, Regent," Sanari's wisdom-delivering face was more stern than her perpetually bemused self. "And a long-lived Guardian at that, you should understand that we do not speak of friends or allies as mortals understand. With each epoch and circumstance, allies and enemies are merely sides of a catastrophe. More often than not, I fear, you may find that the needs of the Accord require that you aid your enemies by stifling your allies. This is the way—to be a saviour and betrayer—leader and tyrant—and often both."

"Ominous." Gwen watched the vines grow into place. "I'll see you back at Shalkar, Sanari."

"Please be careful in the ocean." Sanari bowed. "And I have been authorised to allow you a small privilege of the Accord. Farewell, Regent, and stay safe."

Gwen re-materialised half a world away.

She had expected to be taken to the Shard in London, from which she would transfer to the Heathrow ISTC and then onto her various way stations.

However, when her stomach settled, and she stepped into the rune-engraved tiles similar in ISTCs everywhere, it wasn't English faces that greeted her, but soft-featured hostesses in a style of clothing she recognised.

"Greetings, Regent Sama," The aides anticipating her arrival bowed as though they had practised the act prior. "We are honoured to have one so rare visit our humble home of Kagoshima."

It took Gwen a few more seconds to consider that Sanari had taken her to the Kyushu Islands. Once her mind acknowledged her new physical reality, she nodded politely, then stepped from the dais.

This particular ISTC's whereabouts were not the concrete building's interior but an ancient construct in bright, lacquered redwood, affording an elevated vista of the city below. She could see flowering fruit trees from the open floor beside a pristine rock garden, beyond which the rest of the temple complex sprawled down the ladders of a cliff.

"This way." The shrine women, the Mikos, moved soundlessly, shuffling so delicately as to glide across the polished floor, their red garments flaring like peonies.

Gwen followed.

Then, after a dozen embarrassing clacks of her heels, she levitated herself across the pristine floor.

The temple was smaller than she had expected, consisting of the main building that housed the ISTC portal and a four-quadrant courtyard. In the middle of the complex, an enormous Japanese Maple, in an explosion of autumn flame, cast its half-dome shade across the entirety of the exterior, beyond which lay her objective—The East China Sea.

Tree Gates? She realised what Sanari meant by a little boon. Tryfan, in its trust, was informing her that it maintained a trans-planar transit system no Dwarf or Human could begin to comprehend.

"We sincerely hope you will return to us, Regent-Sama," the impeccably attired priestesses bowed again, making Gwen conscious that she was merely using their Tree as a way station. "The Terukuni Maidens forever serve your needs."

"I shall when the opportunity arises." She bowed in turn, then released the Omni Orb from her Storage Ring, eliciting eager gasps from the women.

Mindful of her appearance, she stepped into the air, each ladder step leaving a little circuit of living lightning. Her crow-skin cloak bellowed outward, catching the air to send her heavenward without effort.

When she finally attained a suitable altitude, Gwen felt the elements envelop her body, empowering her mastery of Flight.

Clear thunder crackled across the firmament—then the Regent of Shalkar was but a spec upon the deep ultramarine.

It took Gwen three hours before the Omni-orb declared that she had arrived by spinning in place.

Gwen ascertained that the orb was correct, for she had indeed reached the proverbial Atlantis of Sanari's musings.

She drew a deep breath.

"Lei-bup!" Her Clarion Call, delivered in the gurgling tongue of the Mer, echoed across the island. "Your Priestess has come!"

Below, now noting her thunderous arrival, sat a small island a dozen kilometres across, lazily listing from left to right as vents large enough to expel sea sprouts took deep breaths of foaming seawater. At the furthermost end, she could see a dozen eye-stalks, each a little watch tower encrusted with dark scales and fossicking molluscs, converging their gaze upon her hovering figure.

So this is a Shoal in its natural place. Her mind marvelled at a sight rarely seen by humans.

In its resting configuration, the Shoal resembled a microcosmic city-state with all the bells and whistles. Near its outskirts, patrols of Wave Riders, Mermen possessing mastery over the Seahorse Kelpies of the open ocean, circled the Leviathan's perimeter, now and again surging into the air in aerial displays of wondrous acrobatics before submerging once more.

In the far reaches of the young Leviathan's starboard fins, she saw the sleek bodies of yellow-finned Mermen tending to an enormous array of seaweed and algae that spanned for dozens of kilometres just on the surface.

Upon the shores of the Leviathan's flank, she saw Mermen engaged in leisure, using the gargantuan's body as makeshift beaches. Shops, as strange as a fish tucker shop could be, dispensed food to lines of chattering Mermen answering to matronly looking Cods wearing aprons with a rainbow's hue, lathering grilled SPAM with a dark sauce. Elsewhere, the fry of the Shoal frolicked near the head of the Leviathan, safe in a brine pool created by entwined tentacle whiskers.

Slowly, with a tectonic gait, an enormous portion of the Leviathan's encrusted back detached, sending a thousand smaller scales to scamper in all directions. Once enough of its living armour moved out of place, Gwen recognised the elevating structure as the body of a crab as wide as the Bunker, though only three storeys tall.

Slowly, the Leviathan's upper crab carapace rose, opening to form the private sanctum of the Shoal's leadership.

A thundering blast of water erupted—clearing the skittering symbiotic creatures crowding the entrance. After that, something resembling a bi-valve and a door blinked open, revealing the corpulent figure of Gwen's many-tentacled servant, Lei-bup.

She slowly descended, her eyes wary of the Mermen who lowered their bodies as she passed, some pressing their faces into the shell-grit of the Leviathan. Even the island seemed to dip its head into the ocean, sending thousands of Mermen tumbling from its sides.

As she drifted closer, Gwen's suspicion that the Leviathan was an entire ecosystem unto itself was confirmed by the iridescent interior of its carapaced body. In addition to the Mermen tinkerers working on new tunnels and opening spaces, she saw sea worms squirming through the apertures, crustaceans living in every cranny, and tiny tendrils of anemones embedded in the sparkling walls.

"Iä! Iä! Iä!" With a mighty bellow seemingly impossible for his body, Lei-bup gathered the attention of all those who swam on the surface, simultaneously coaxing Mermen to emerge from the Leviathan's interior.

More and more, the Merman swarmed out until all Gwen could see was a sea of scales and chitin, all fervently focusing their eyes and stalks onto her feathered body.

"Your whip awaits your pleasure." Lei-bup prostrated himself, as did the Mermen and maids behind him. "Iä! Iä! Iä!"

"Iä! Iä! Iä—!" The gathered Mermen leadership echoed the High Priest's gurgles.

"For our comrade who lurks at the threshold!"

"For the All-in-one!"

"For the One-in-ALL!"

The sound of the Mermen's hollers rolled like a tide across the Leviathan's back, washing back and forth across the undulating mass of bodies.

Feeling the hair on her neck rise, Gwen took a moment to take in Lei-bup's entourage. Of the Mermen present, she recognised the twin blondes, who were Lei-bup's attendants. To his right were three older and wiser Mer-women sporting the distinct shell garbs of Sea Witches. To Lei-bup's left were a more mismatched assortment consisting of a dangerous-looking Mermen with a tiger shark's patterns, a Crab-kin that looked half-fossilised, and a bipedal sea-turtle studying her intently behind algae-encrusted beaks.

The Shark-kin stuck a fist to his chest, drawing her eyes toward the uncharacteristic tendrils growing on the Merman's back where the fin should have been.

When her eyes scanned the leaders, she confirmed their shared trait—extreme body modifications.

Alarmingly, these Mermen were being digested—she was certain of it—though some appeared to possess the vital means to supply their hungry parasites and somehow draw strength from the appendages.

Her feet touched the floor of the elevated dias, which now she realised was a speech platform. Inside, bioluminescence in hypnotic patterns made the open cathedral larger than its space otherwise suggested.

Behind the Shoal's leadership, she saw a large plate a dozen meters across. Lesser Sea Witches, a trio of them, maintained an illusion of the Shoal's movements by manipulating fine grains of sifting sand.

Lei-bup, guiding her hand with a tentacle, led her forward until she was an elevated point of interest facing down the million-strong Mermen Shoal swarming below like a school of piranhas.

"The Priestess of Pale Flesh has blessed us," he announced to the Mermen, his voice amplified by the Sea Witches. "My Shoal! In the likeness of her flesh, we shall feast upon SPAM tonight!"

"As you will, High Priest." The Witches wove ripples of water into the sandcastle likeness of the Shoal. The message spread, followed by a sudden frenzy of activity.

Lei-bup stepped aside, beckoning her to take the centre space, looking downward at the gathered.

Gwen stood, forcing herself to ignore the puddle of slime climbing up her leg.

"COMMAND US! Oh, Pale Priestess of the Endless Hunger!" Lei-bup threw her into the limelight. "Tells us what we must do! What is our purpose!"

Her followers fell like wind-tossed wheat, torsos, appendages and tails striking the floor, some bowing, others prostrating.

"Iä! Iä! Iä—!"

"Iä! Iä! Iä—!"

"Iä! Iä! Iä—!"

Gwen felt her head abuzz as she scoured her frontal lobe for something to say. She had expected many things when she flew down to see Lei-bup, everything from slimy greetings to belligerents seeking to harm her life—but a speech wasn't one of them. Whatever her plans were for Lei-bup to cooperate, she had to at least pull this particular rabbit out of a hat to feed her ravening swarm.

"I thank the Faithful for the welcome," Gwen surveyed what she supposed was her domain. Rationally, nothing here besides Lei-bup could be considered a product of her direct action. However, a sorceress on the warpath of revenge against an ageless Void Witch wasn't about to look a gift-Leviathan in the mouth. Tuning the mana in her conduits, she adjusted the setting of her Clarion Call illusion to Dolby-Digital THX. "As promised, I have come to speak with you all regarding the next step for the Great Shoal Forward. Therefore, Friends! Mermen! Comrades! Lend me your… listening organs!"

The last part wasn't properly translated, as she could see no ears, but her audience perked up all the same. She waited for the crowd to calm their fins, abiding the precious seconds to compose her oration to the fish nation.

"For too long, the menace of the tranquil seas—these Undead Mermen that come from the deep, have plagued the living. Through the Cult of Juche, they have become a true menace, one that seeks to eradicate all natural life! Think of Tianjin, and not just your cousins of the land! Where the Undead has swam, they sweep through the seagrass like a scythe, consuming all in its path to add to its incalculable number!"

The answering roar made the Leviathan bob in the water, engendering several localised tsunamis.

"My Mermen! TIANJIN was an invasion! An invasion of the very existence you call sacred. The invasion of your very being! Your way of life! Think of your fries frolicking in the water! Think of your spawning pools and egg clutches, devoured not by the cycle of life but by mindless minions seeking to pervert life itself! The Kingdoms—these Seven Kingdoms of the Deep, were they not shelters for the Mermen, extensions into the Elemental Plane of Water? Where are these Kings now?! Where are these protectors when the Prime Material is despoiled?!"

The Mermen were rilled now, their unblinking fishy faces expressing as much rage as she could discern from the foaming Shoal. When she had given such speeches to the Rat-kin, she had felt like a visionary of emancipation—but the Mermen's numbers and reactions were entirely on another scale.

"Your Pale Priestess intents to hunt down the source of this corruption, O Great Shoal! If we continue to neglect the spread of this danger, we shall all prove ourselves unable to defend our great stretches of the sea! How can we live and prosper under the constant storm of Undeath? Under the shadow of unceasing war? Such is why I walk among you, friends and comrades. We shall defend the seas where the Kingdoms have failed, where these Elemental Princes and Regents have failed!"

"Where shall we fight? Pale Priestess? How shall we fight?" A Crustacean General raised a titanic claw. Gwen wondered if Lei-bup had prepared the man beforehand, but the exclamation felt very organic.

"Fear not! We do not fight alone! We shall descend the great Shoggoth upon the Depth!" Gwen's voice rang out. "We shall fight them everywhere we find them! We shall fight on the beaches! We shall fight in the seas! We shall fight them in the twilight depth of the Elemental Plane of Water! There shall be no quarter, no surrender, for such recourse, would be the choice of bait fish! Trust in the Shoggoth, comrades! Through the Old One! Though the All-in-One! He who is the Gate and the Key! We shall find victory. We shall predate upon the Un-living and cleanse the seas! Join me in our Great Shoal Forward, and I promise you an eternity with the Shoggoth at your side!"

With her final delivery, Gwen focused her empathic link upon those fragments of the Shoggoth kept alive by the Merman's uncanny Faith.

Her Essence coursed through her conduits as waves of resonating Void Mana rang out. The appendages of the Shoggoth, which had been looted from the battlefield and grafted onto her faithful, flared into energetic action.

Her presence pulsed like a beating heart, reaping the faithful like an invisible combine harvester. Some of the grafted perished at once, unable to stomach the sudden activity of their stolen gifts. Others, more robust, howled in sickening pleasure as purple-pink tendrils sprouted from their bodies, some gifted with eyes and others with teeth or barbs.

The air grew damp and oppressive. Even the sky, which had been cloudless, seemed to have lost heat and light.

The fabric of the Axis Mundi shuddered as the will of the Shoggoth, sensing the call of the Faithful, pushed against the space between worlds. Like a giant meniscus in reverse, all felt the hair-raising presence of the Many-Eyed Hunger harkening to be born into the Prime Material.

Gwen felt the presence of her creature intrude upon her mind, its tentacles like cold icicles of death worming through the heated fat of her feverish, mana-fed brain.

Not yet. The Pale Priestess informed the Void Matter to whom she had given thought and shape. Soon. I promise you will feed.

The creature's will clashed against her thoughts like a tidal wave, but the bulwark of her ego held it at bay. With a banishing thought, she closed the conduit. Gwen knew that her teasing of the Mermen had reached a frenzied peak. Any more, and the climax would ruin her proverbial bedsheets.

"Great Priestess," Lei-bup's trembling voice sounded beside her. "When shall we set forth?"

The Shoal's leaders, Mermaid and Mermen, crustaceans and all, fell to prostrate before the caller of the Endless Eyes.

"Scour the South Sea for the source of Undeath," Gwen gave the command she had been musing since that faithful night in Tianjin. "As for the rest—prepare an audience chamber, Lei-bup, and I shall let my desires be known."

Shalkar.

The Bunker.

Slylth Alexander Morden, rebel extraordinaire, arrived at his temporary abode, having ridden Tryfan's tree portals across time and space.

When he emerged once more into the hot, dry air, a much more enjoyable sensation than the perpetual humidity of Tyfanevius' grot, his eyes actively scanned for the mana signature of the one arrogant enough to forbade his return.

"Huh..." Slylth noted the presence of the female's Essence but not her mana signature.

He took to the air just to be sure.

True to his expertise in detecting Magic, there was no Gwen. However, he did sense many new magical signatures in the enormous square atop the Bunker, where the city mustered its Rat-kin troops.

Within the half-constructed square, hundreds of Mages who looked newly arrived were assessed by the city's chief security officers, the human swordswoman Lulan Li, and the brutal body of brother Golos, who lounged on a stage, sunning his brilliant-blue scales.

To think he had expected the female to be waiting for him, not like a dutiful wife, but at least be present.

Slylth touched a finger to his storage ring, struck by a sudden thought. Tyfanevius had given him many gifts in rare foodstuffs and elixirs. He had thought of sharing some with the angry female upon his return, but if she wasn't here to receive them...

Perhaps Brother Golos would like to partake, and in the aftermath... they could boast to the Regent the consequences of her tardy arrival.