Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 54 - Champions of Tyranny - Part One

True to my expectations, it didn’t take Gregory long to return with the candidates for the Asrusians' covert annexation initiative. Many of the candidates would likely be part of the overall team or teams involved and would share a certain degree of responsibility for safeguarding Blackthorn. However, somebody would ultimately have to claim responsibility for carrying Blackthorn itself. Which meant I needed to determine how to select the right candidate.

It was difficult to determine whether acquiring more land or snubbing their enemies was a greater motivating factor, but it ultimately didn’t make much of a difference either way. I was just as interested in acquiring more territory for similar reasons.

To comfortably accommodate the current Human population, I estimated that I would need another twenty or so floors worth of territory.

Even if I artificially implemented a two-child per household limit through my authority as Tyrant, the Humans would still likely become discontent over a perceived lack of room to grow. More than that, I wanted enough room so that towns and villages would be seen as viable alternatives to the cities.

Concentrated populations had their benefits, but there were a number of significant downsides as well. One of my greatest fears was that the cities would generate and spread diseases faster than the Surgeons could viably treat and eliminate them.

Assuming they could be treated and eliminated...

Contrary to my initial expectations, half of the soldiers Gregory put forward for my inspection were not intended as candidates for carrying Blackthorn. They weren’t technically soldiers either. They were mercenaries.

Strictly speaking, they were former adventurers who had agreed to sign on as ‘cover’ for the actual soldiers in exchange for payment. To me, that made them mercenaries.

I had to give Gregory credit for going the extra mile. It no doubt would have been rather suspicious for a large number of combat classes associated with soldiers to enter a Labyrinth all at once, let alone a foreign city.

The wide range of ethnicities represented amongst the adventurers and a few of the soldiers was probably quite deliberate for similar reasons.

I also assumed that the soldiers would be outfitted with more eclectic equipment to better disguise themselves, but I could understand why they had arrived in uniform.

Technically, despite the clandestine nature of the operation, the soldiers had an immense degree of pride in representing their military and nation. It was also likely the last time they would have the opportunity to wear their official uniform for a long time.

“Majesty, these are our most qualified candidates,” Gregory pointed to three soldiers who had separated from the larger group.

The soldiers in question, two men and one woman, all in their late thirties or early forties, each gave a crisp salute and stood at attention. Both men had short cropped dark brown hair that emphasised the gathering grey hairs at their temples while the woman’s pixie cut was streaked with grey throughout.

All three soldiers were roughly the same height with the woman being only an inch or so shorter and somewhat slimmer in overall build. While most soldiers in the Asrusian army were quite fit and had a strong build, Gregory’s three candidates were all several steps beyond that level.

A cursory glance at their Status information confirmed my suspicions almost immediately. All three candidates were Knights. The Advanced Class required rigorous training in multiple fields of martial weapons and combat in general. Given their age, and the sheer amount of time and expense involved in training to become a Knight, this meant that the three candidates were all most likely members of the Asrusian nobility or their trusted retainers

There were younger Knights cropping up with each passing day, thanks to the quests I had constructed to coach the populace on acquiring their desired Classes. However, the quests were functionally full of shortcuts and I could tell just by looking at them that the candidates had done things the hard way and reaped all the benefits for it.

“Ser Randle Ainsley, Ser Faine Ainsley, and Ser Jayne Ainsley,” Gregory announced by means of introduction, motioning to each Knight in turn for the second time, “They are cousins, Majesty,” he added with a small smile, “Branch members of House Ainsley, a family of unimpeachable loyalty and commitment to the kingdom.”

I had already seen their information and was aware of the shared family name, but I appreciated the context all the same.

“Come with me,” I ordered, leading the Ainsley's and Gregory through Sanctuary proper and toward the training grounds.

As usual, the training grounds were a hive of activity. Sanctuary’s abundance of resources allowed for a large amount of ‘leisure time’ for most people. It was common for just about everyone to spend at least an hour or two on any given day at the training grounds. Former Slaves frequented the training grounds with particular dedication, and I couldn’t blame them for it.

Passing by the open training area, it didn’t take long at all for a large crowd to begin following behind us.

Sanctuary had a number of sources of entertainment, but they were all rather...simple, in nature. The most popular form of public entertainment was the arena.

Given the trio of strangers in tow and my heading, it hadn’t taken the locals much time at all to figure out what I had in mind. Or a close approximation of it anyway.

The arena had an unofficial official reservation list, but I wasn’t particularly worried about it. One of the perks of being a Tyrant was that I could have small allowances made without ruffling too many feathers.

The structure of the arena itself was an odd blend of stone and plant life. A stone ramp encircled the recessed arena floor and spiralled upward, connecting three rings at different levels. The three rings each supported a number of platforms that allowed an unobstructed view of the arena below. The moulded stone of the arena was supported by the twisting branches of a dozen trees that provided shade for spectators and combatants alike.

Cutting to the front of the queue, I took a few moments to appraise the match currently in progress.

Four teams of twenty members each were competing in a game of Capture The Flag. Only instead of snatching ribbons to disqualify an opponent, the competitors were following Sanctuary’s rule of five. Taking five direct hits temporarily eliminated a participant from the game. Most gladiatorial-style matches followed the same general rule with the exception that the combatant was eliminated outright instead of temporarily.

Large-scale matches were the most popular for participants and spectators alike, although for slightly different reasons. The participants received Exp rewards based on difficulty, and the easiest means of increasing difficulty was to increase the number of participants. Levels and Tier of Evolution played a big role as well, but no one particularly seemed to mind competing against stronger opponents due to the difficulty of ramping up the Exp rewards for losing.

“This is?...” Gregory seemed intrigued, watching the progress of a nimble Goblin wearing a Blue bandana ducking, weaving, leaping and scrambling through the obstacle-ridden arena floor with the red team's flag.

“Capture The Flag. It’s a wargame, of sorts,” I explained casually, “The aim is to seize the enemy flag while keeping your own. Returning the enemy flag to your base earns a point, and the team with the most points, or reaches a predetermined value first, wins.”

“And the ones leaving the field?” Gregory asked curiously.

“It’s the rule to simulate serious injury so they don’t have to beat one another unconscious,” I motioned toward two Orcs from opposing teams who were fiercely parrying one another’s blows, “Five solid hits and you have to leave the field for the agreed upon time. Otherwise, you forfeit your share of the Exp.”

“This earns Exp?” Now Gregory was really interested.

“It does,” I confirmed with a smirk, “It uses the quest-issuing system to establish rules and dictate rewards based on difficulty.”

The match took a while to reach a conclusion, demonstrating that the teams had been relatively well-balanced from a competitive standpoint. Watching the teams leave the arena floor provided a good opportunity to appreciate how well the different Species were collaborating with one another and integrating into Sanctuary life.

“Our turn now,” I waved Gregory and the Ainsley's forward and descended onto the arena floor. “Whoever is going to safeguard one of Sanctuary’s Artefacts should understand that I expect them to lay down their life if it means keeping it from our enemies. I don’t doubt that Gregory already told you as much already and that you confirmed you understood.”

The three Ainsleys silently nodded.

“I don’t want the strongest candidate to carry the Artefact,” I clarified, earning a curious look from Gregory, “I want the candidate who is best able to keep the Artefact from anyone who would try to take it from them.”

I shifted one of the visiting Kobolds in the crowd into my retinue so I could benefit from the Synergy, and then set about Summoning projections of each of the Ainsley's. I made sure to take my time, giving the three Knights the opportunity to acclimate to what was happening, as well as ensuring that the projections each had enough mana. By the time I was finished, nine armoured projections stood opposite their original selves.

Each group of projections wore surcoats of different primary colours to their fellows, clearly dividing them into three different teams.

“When your projection is destroyed, its accumulated experiences will implant themselves in your mind and become your own memories,” I began to explain and could tell by the look in Gregory’s eyes that he had very likely guessed at what I intended to do, “That means every instance of pain, fear and desperation they experience will become your own. Even the experience of death itself...” I paused for dramatic effect, “So before we go any further, I will ask you this. Are you prepared to die to protect the Artefact?”

Jayne was the first to react, dropping to one knee and bowing her head, “I would give my life to safeguard Asrus, her people, and Sanctuary!” She declared zealously.

Randle and Faine were only a half second behind their cousin in declaring the same.

Their projections all stood somewhat taller, somehow managing to square their shoulders more than they already had been.

“Just to be clear, this test will be unfair by design. I want to see how well you will fare when the deck is stacked against you. After all, our enemies are not likely to play fair.” I began Summoning a horde of generic soldiers, lesser versions of the three Knights, and three more projections. “These projections will be tasked with devising strategies to defeat your other projections.”

“To represent an enemy that has performed at least some level of meaningful reconnaissance?” Gregory guessed with an appreciative nod of understanding.

“Or something to that effect, yes,” I agreed, “And everyone had the benefits of the combined Synergies since I doubt that particular advantage will remain ours indefinitely. The rules are simple. The owner of the last mace to be returned to the enemy base is the winner. Gregory will ensure the enemy team coordinates and prosecutes its mission to the best of their ability. And leaving the arena grounds is an automatic failure. You are free to make use of the terrain and equipment as you see fit.”

I conjured three magical maces from Sanctuary’s treasury and gave one to a different projection from each team before sending the teams to different bases used in the previous match of Capture The Flag.

After sending Gregory and the Summons that would be taking the role of the enemy to the fourth base, I made my way up to the first ring and conjured a large pile of food. With fuel to power more rapid replenishment of my mana, I began Summoning a steady stream of additional soldiers to reinforce the enemy team. I didn’t expect the generic soldiers to last particularly long in a fight, so I didn’t give them much mana, prioritising quantity instead of risking mana when it had a good chance of being wasted.

Fain, Randle and Jayne had followed Gregory initially but had either been sent away or otherwise decided to follow after me instead.

Gregory and the fourth team of projections made it abundantly clear from the beginning that they were not messing around. Instead of dividing their forces, they encircled the red team base with their entire force and then began their attack.

As I had expected, the Knights’ projections battered and carved their way determinedly through the rank-and-file soldiers with brutal efficiency. Glad I had saved the mana, I cut the amount of mana for each new soldier by a full two-thirds. The reinforcements were gathered into squads and thrown at the Knights as readily as they were made available in sufficient numbers.

Slowly but surely, the Knights were worn down and pressured into giving up the prime defensive ground.

Despite their similar builds, each of the Knights had different preferences in personal tactics and weaponry.

At first glance, Randle’s preference for using a large shield and one handed weapon appeared to be to the Red team's advantage. Unfortunately, as time passed it became apparent that Randle was more offensively inclined than his cousins and that his choice in using a shield was a part of his aggressive combat style.

While Randle laid about himself with his own flanged mace, not the one he was meant to be protecting, his shield covered his left side as the opposing soldiers attempted to swarm him.

Weathering scattered volleys of arrows, Randle’s aggression soon proved to be the red team’s downfall.

While Randle’s shield afforded him the additional protection required to leave cover behind, Faine and Jayne were not so lucky.

Armed with a halberd and two-handed sword respectively, Randle’s cousins were forced to rely almost entirely on their armour to weather the opportunistic skirmishing of their ranged opponents. As the number of Archers reached a critical mass, all three Knights were forced back into cover but not before an arrow found its way past the armour protecting Jayne’s knee.

With her mobility severely impaired, Jayne became the weak link of the trio and the enemy leveraged her lack of mobility against the others almost immediately. A mass assault separated Jayne from the others. Unable to efficiently counter so many opponents or retreat, she was brought down by the sheer weight of numbers.

The real Jayne staggered as the memories of her fallen projection asserted themselves on her mind.

It was my first time witnessing the phenomenon in someone who wasn’t a Daemon, so I was particularly curious about how it would affect her.

Contrary to my expectations, although admittedly I should have anticipated it, Jayne shook off the experience of her violent death while expressing nothing more than intense disappointment.

“I failed, sorry cousin,” Jayne apologised ruefully to Randle.

Randle supportively rested his hand on her shoulder and shook his head, “No, cousin. It was clearly because of my overzealousness...The fault is mine.”

“It’s true,” Faine agreed neutrally without looking away from the ongoing and increasingly desperate melee. “I must say that I am appreciating the unique change in perspective,” he continued conversationally, earning curious looks from his cousins. “Well, look,” Faine pointed to his projection who was in the process of impaling a Summoned soldier with the spike on the end of his halberd, “You see that? My timing was off and now I’m going to take a hit from that Swordsman rushing me from the rear right flank.”

Sure enough, a Summoned soldier closed behind Faine’s projection and struck Faine on the back before being knocked down a second later as Faine swept about himself with the stave of his halberd.

“See?” Faine repeated, “I should have gone for a sweeping strike to begin with. I’m sure I should have seen him coming, so going for the kill on the first one was a mistake.”

Of the three, Faine’s projection was the one with the least ‘kills’ due to the limitations of efficiently bringing his polearm to bear while being mobbed from all sides. More often than not, his projection resorted to bludgeoning and battering down his opponents in a desperate attempt to maintain his position and bring the more lethal end of his weapon into play.

“And now they’ve separated us,” Randle sighed irritably as the Summoned soldiers lured and swarmed his projection away and into an ambush.

Rushed from all sides, Randle briefly disappeared beneath a mass of Summoned limbs before violently reappearing moments later and brutally bludgeoning a half dozen Summoned soldiers out of existence in as many seconds.

“And now it’s over...” Jayne observed with a wince and pointed toward a Summoned Swordsman that was fleeing the carnage at full speed.

Both Randle and Faine’s projections were too hard-pressed to notice the fleeing soldier, and wouldn’t have been able to pursue him even if they had.

As the soldier reached the enemy base, I dismissed the red team’s projections.

“Majesty, we offer our sincere regrets and apology for our failure,” Jayne stated bitterly.

While my attention had been elsewhere, the three Knights had all fallen to one knee and were hanging their heads in shame.

“Failure was inevitable,” I reminded them, “How and why is more important. This test is not to determine your worthiness in and of itself, but to determine who is best suited to safeguard the Artefact.”

The three Knights remained silent but the ominous tension began to dissipate almost immediately.

Objectively, the red team exceeded my expectations. Between the three of them, they had disabled and dispatched around a hundred Summoned soldiers while being shot at by half as many more Archers, Slingers and Crossbowmen before the trial ended.

Considering the Summons all had the same Synergies, and that they were all ‘just’ Humans, they had done far better than I had expected. In fact, they had done better than I would have done in their place.

One of the distinct disadvantages of growing larger was that it made me an increasingly easy target. While I could, and did, wear thicker armour that would shrug off certain attacks, the inherent weak points in said armour became more obvious and available at a larger scale. There was also the issue of energy generated by concussive force transferring and passing through the armour.

I winced as I recalled being bludgeoned half to death by stones hurled by Goblin slings.

In stark contrast to the overall performance of the red team, the blue team exacted a much greater toll on the Summoned soldiers before eventually succumbing to their accumulated wounds.

Randle’s aggression and defensive armament played to their advantage as he left his cousins behind to launch counterattacks on the otherwise undefended Archers. With the ranged enemies subdued, Jayne was free to viciously execute the approaching soldiers piecemeal, and Faine was able to knock down, delay, or kill any soldiers that made it past her.

Faine had been the last one left standing. Considering he had been the one charged with holding the stand-in for the Artefact, it was a rather commendable result.

The yellow team did better than the red team but not quite as well as the blue team. Faine wasn’t quite as well suited to intercepting so many enemies simultaneously as his cousin Jayne had been. He had been able to temporarily incapacitate more of them but had struggled with eliminating them outright. This had eventually resulted in Faine being overwhelmed and leaving Jayne to fend for herself while Randle continued harassing the Archers.

Randle could have retreated, but it would have probably resulted in them being overwhelmed sooner rather than later. After watching the effects of disrupting the Archers in the previous trial, it was made obvious that it was a rather important component in dragging out the engagement and exacting a higher toll on the enemy.

Technically, Faine or Jayne could have taken Randle’s place in harassing the enemy Archers, but they just didn’t seem to have the temperament for it. Neither of them were by any means timid, but Faine was rather doggedly territorial and defensive, while Jayne’s temperament seemed to alternate between the two.

The three Knights seemed to be holding up rather well despite suffering violent deaths multiple times over and were deeply engrossed in a conversation about appropriate tactics and strategy.

For their part, the audience seemed to have greatly enjoyed the sheer violence doomed defiance of the spectacle. Given the normal limitations imposed upon the combatants and the knowledge that the Romans and other civilisations had long traditions of combat-oriented entertainment for a reason, I didn’t find it all that surprising.

I could only wonder how long it would take people to realise that they could have combatants face off against wild Beasts without breaking Sabctuary’s laws and their sworn oaths. I was actually somewhat surprised someone hadn’t made use of the loophole already.

Gregory made his way up from the arena floor and joined them shortly afterward. “Was everything as intended, Majesty?” He asked somewhat nervously. No doubt worried whether his efforts in prosecuting the Knights had been overzealous and disproven their worthiness as candidates to begin with.

If I hadn’t deliberately provided the means to abuse the trio’s weaknesses, then Gregory might have had something to worry about.

“According to my expectations, yes,” I agreed while clarifying the question. “As I said before we started, failure was guaranteed. How they failed, and why, was what is important.”

Gregory pursed his lips and nodded.

“For Humans, I think they did as best as could be expected of them. Better even,” I added, trying not to sound speciesist, “You had insider information on how to exploit their weaknesses and they still managed to hold you off for a considerable amount of time.”

“So they have met with your approval then?” Gregory asked hesitantly.

I considered the three Knights for a moment and then nodded, “They proved their willingness to die while protecting the Artefact, and that was my primary concern.” It hadn’t been, but it sounded more impressive and a little less psychotic than, “How many people can they take down with them?”

The overwhelming majority of my Class Abilities were passive and oriented toward empowering or lending power to my subordinates. This trend had continued with the latest handful of Abilities, and even the active Ability was still mostly passive in nature.

Vested Authority already allowed anyone with a Promotion a certain degree of my Authority as a Lord of the Labyrinths. This only really allowed them to assign a storage location for donation quests and for personally retrieving items, since I retained full control over everything else. All the same, it was somewhat convenient logistically, so I hadn’t complained about it taking up one of my Class Abilities.

A far more recent Ability, that I had gained only after returning to Sanctuary, was The Tyrant’s Fists. The Ability allowed me to share a single Class Ability with a small number of Qualified Subordinates. Basically any Lord or Overseer. It also allowed me to look through their eyes in exchange for a drain in mana that scaled depending on the distance.

“Are you prepared to begin your journey anew?” I asked, directing my focus toward Jayne, Randle and Faine.

“Majesty?” Randle asked, seeming not to understand the question.

“A Promotion would reset your levels,” I explained bluntly.

The three cousins shared a brief moment to glance at one another before nodding determinedly, “We are ready to serve as your Majesty deems fit,” Raine declared stoic determination.

With their consent confirmed, I bestowed each of them with a Promotion to Underlord and granted each of them one of my own Class Abilities through The Tyrant’s Fists.

With Faine as my choice for protecting Blackthorn, I gave him the Honour Guard Ability, allowing him to nominate Subordinates as Bodyguards that would receive enhanced Momentum and Reaction Speed when acting to protect him from danger. The Ability had upgraded since the last time I used it to assign Lash’s Bodyguards and now provided increased Damage Reduction as well. Which was a nice upgrade.

Jayne would receive Noble Heraldry so Faine’s Bodyguards and any other Subordinates in her vicinity would gain the Endurance Ability. Her preference for alternating between offence and defence would ensure that she would be seen by allied forces more often than Randle would be in most instances. Or at least that is how I rationalised it.

Randle was a somewhat tricky choice. His aggressive combat tendencies would make Thundering Strikes a good choice for personal empowerment, but that would only last as long as he had mana to burn. Keeping in line with the passive selection of the other two candidates, I eventually settled on Inspiring Presence. With the constant benefit of warding all allies against Fear and Terror, Randle’s aggression would generate additional Momentum for any allies or Subordinates that witnessed him deliver a killing blow.

It wasn’t until I was finished selecting the Abilities that I realised I should have investigated what Abilities they had gained through their new Classes first. Thankfully, the process had all been performed in my head, so no one was any the wiser.

As I should have expected, all three of the former Knights had unlocked the same new Class. Tyrant’s Champion. I wondered if perhaps my intentions or use of The Tyrant’s Fists had played a role in the selection process. I didn’t notice straight away, but it was also one of the first custom Classes without a Species prefix either.

Similarly, instead of possessing the Eminence or Pillager Abilities split amongst the other Custom Classes, they all had the Enforcer Ability instead.

The Enforcer Ability was brutally straightforward. Enforcer allowed the Tyrant’s Champions to make an example of someone as an intimidation tactic, generating negative Conditions in enemies who witnessed the use of the Ability. The Conditions themselves seemed to be left up to the owner’s discretion but encompassed everything from reducing damage dealt, to reducing Momentum, and inspiring Terror. It was functionally the opposite of Inspiring Presence but scaled in correlation to the objective ‘strength’ of the enemy being made an example of.

Tyrant’s Will was relatively straightforward as well. Their mental defences against contests of will would be increased relative to the progressive Rank of the Ability and could be increased further by actively draining mana. Draining mana would also allow them to temporarily ignore the damage dealt through the contest of will. This made them somewhat of a counter to the Artefact lodged in my own brain.

Pyrrhic Will’s Ability to flagellate the mind of anyone I entered into a contest of will with was incredibly powerful. The three Champions being able to temporarily ignore it was entirely unexpected.

On the upside, it did open the possibility for sharing Warlord’s Will and Dominating Will to proactively free Slaves without needing to train and promote more parole Officers.

Their final starting Class Ability, Compel Confrontation, was a little strange but also incredibly mean spirited when combined with the other Class Abilities. True to its name, the Ability could be activated to compel a designated enemy to attack the user of the Ability. Anyone targeted by the Ability could engage in a contest of will to resist the Ability, but they would periodically take damage if they failed.

In a very loose sense, Compel Confrontation was dangerously similar to Enslavement. Only, the Ability was temporary and much more limited in scope.

Diverting Exp through the Keys of Power Ability, I was somewhat disappointed when the next few Abilities were more or less the same as the passive combat Abilities they had possessed before the abrupt change in Class.

Making a mental note to check on their progress later, I returned my attention to my immediate surroundings.

“The Promotions are complete, and I have gifted each of you a Class Ability I feel will best suit your role in keeping Blackthorn out of our enemies’ hands,” I explained while conjuring the Artefact into my hand. “I could offer you the Summon Servant Class Ability,” I told Gregory, “But you would need to accept a Promotion of your own.”

Gregory looked profoundly conflicted, “Which would mean I could receive a Custom Class if I meet the conditions,” he sighed defeatedly, “No, I must regretfully decline, for the time being, at least,” Gregory apologised before wincing and straightening his expression.

I shrugged impassively, it was his decision to make. However, it did remind me of my discussion with Sebet, “Sebet may have an alternative means of rapidly returning to Sanctuary made available in the next few days. The details are still being discussed by those involved, but I would still suggest speaking with her when you have the opportunity.”

“Sebet is?” Gregory’s eyes glazed over slightly while accessing Sanctuary’s registry, “Oh! Her! Yes...well...I probably should make the time to speak with her,” he agreed somewhat awkwardly.

Randel, Jayne and Faine looked at one another in obvious confusion before seeming to agree that it was not really any of their business. Which was somewhat strange since they now technically outranked Gregory.

The Asrusians had formally recognised Promoted individuals as lesser nobility. So any Underlords, Lords, Overlords or Overseers in their Faction were afforded certain privileges alongside additional responsibilities and expectations. Many of the old nobility were scrambling to prove their heirs and scions worthy of Promotion.

Partly to seize relatively low-hanging power, the majority of the nobles seemed genuinely motivated to cement the Kingdom’s new position, and presumably, their place in it. This had created a surge in noble retinues formally joining the military alongside the young hopefuls and established military veterans of the noble houses. The Regent had been very clear on only Promoting those in the military chain of command.

I needed to catch up with Sebet as well anyway, and the three Ainsleys would need some time to acclimate to their new Class, so I led them out of the arena and into The Grove.

“The air is so...I can’t think of the words to describe it,” Jayne commented quietly.

Gregory gave me a quick glance for approval before turning his attention to the others, “It’s the high concentration of mana,” he explained patiently, “The Dryad’s Grove draws in mana from all around and it saturates everything it comes into contact with, including the air and water.”

“So the Lizardmen?...” Faine asked curiously while motioning to the Lizardmen floating nearby in the lake.

“They are passively accumulating mana toward their next Evolution,” I answered before Gregory had the chance.

All three Ainsley's stared at the lake in wonder.

“It’s not as fast as you think,” I cautioned them with a small grin, “But it’s certainly special.” The Grove was actually growing stronger with each chunk of territory that was added to the Demi-Plane. If it wasn’t for Hana and Kohana actively shaping The Grove to contain its concentrated mana, the mana would have begun spilling out over Sanctuary and causing some minor problems.

Tracking Sebet’s location through the registry made it a rather simple matter to track her down. She was lounging and conversing with the Dryads and Angels in the knot of trees in the middle of the lake, so it took a couple of minutes for one of the Lizardmen to let Sebet know that I wanted to speak with her.

I could have attempted to join a telepathic conversation, but doing so successfully was incredibly hit or miss depending on how preoccupied the telepath was at any given moment. With the exception of Gric, of course. He seemed fully capable of holding several separate telepathic conversations simultaneously without particular difficulty.

Sebet wasted no time in manifesting a large pair of scaled bat-like wings and crossing over the lake. For whatever reason, she had adopted a new physical appearance. Unlike the illusion she had attempted in the dungeon, Sebet’s current Abilities allowed for a similar level of transformation as Jacque’s. Although, I wasn’t fully certain what Jacque’s limits were either.

Her current appearance, with the exception of the wings, resembled a tall leggy european model with dark auburn hair, a long graceful neck, and pouty lips. All the same, Sebet still hadn’t opted for a change in clothes. Her sarong had managed to remain anchored on her considerably slimmer hips and waist thanks to a number of thoroughly suspicious lengths of silk rope that served as a belt and allowed her to carry a long dark whip.

Choosing to ignore Sebet’s new accessories, I motioned toward Gregory and the others, “Gregory will want to speak with you about the remote recall project you are working on,” I explained bluntly.

Sebet’s easy smile widened and took on a predatory appearance as she revealed her excessively pointed canines, “Why, this is fantastic news, Great One! We were just discussing the possibility of securing volunteers!”

“Volunteers?” I asked warily, “You need to test the Contracts? I thought that you would just ‘know’ the limitations or whatever.” I only realised after I was finished speaking that my expectations had been rather naive.

“Well...Under normal circumstances, you would be right,” Sebet acquiesced demurely, “But it is important to note that such a cooperative effort is...rare,” She glanced briefly toward Faine and caught him staring at her whip, “If you want a taste, you need only ask,” Sebet purred and suggestively gnawed at her low lip.

Faine’s right eye twitched but he otherwise managed to maintain his composure, “I must regretfully decline, my Lady...”

“Queen,” Sebet corrected softly, manifesting her horns and shaping them into a thorny crown, “I rule over my own Faction and will claim the title to which I am owed.”

Without missing a beat, Faine knelt on one knee and bowed his head, “I must respectfully decline, your Majesty,” he amended.

Gregory looked somewhat concerned but remained silent.

“This is fine Sebet, but remember that I will not tolerate abuses of authority,” I cautioned her sternly.

Sebet smiled nervously and nodded in understanding, “As you will, Great One.”

“Now, what are the risks?” I asked, shifting the conversation back to the original subject.

“Well...I think the biggest risk is that one of the backers' Abilities doesn’t cooperate with the others as intended...” Sebet paused with a thoughtful expression for a few moments, “The signatory might be removed from their current location, as intended, but not arrive at the desired location afterwards and instead arrive somewhere else. There is also the possibility that the payment was insufficient to cover the trip, or to even replicate the Ability in the first place.”

“Ah, ahem,” Gregory politely cleared his throat to get Sebet’s attention, “Does this mean that a Gateway could be created through a Contract rather than relying on individual teleportation items?”

Sebet raised an eyebrow and smirked in amusement, “Of course,” she replied glibly, “Of course, the costs are appreciated with scale,” Sebet’s eyes took on a predatory gleam.

“Manastones,” I interjected for Gregory’s benefit, “Or a temporary lien on your mana. The manastones sound like the less unpleasant option.”

Gregory frowned thoughtfully and stared at Sebet and myself for a few moments before slowly nodding his head, “We would be interested in this if it is possible.”

“Of course you are,” Sebet agreed with a smile, “Why wouldn’t you be? But we still need someone brave to test the Contracts to make sure they work as intended. Would you happen to know anyone who could help?” She made a point of looking at Faine, Randle and Jayne.

Jayne stared back at Sebet suspiciously while Randle and Faine looked to Gregory for leadership.

“We have a number of volunteers available,” Gregory hedged, apparently aware that he was in fact participating in a negotiation and had lost a considerable degree of ground that needed to be recovered, “Their participation could be guaranteed for a certain degree of consideration.”

Sebet’s smile widened considerably, “Of course, of course. Please, come join me for a short walk while we negotiate terms.” Her wings gave off muted crackling sounds as they folded together and disappeared into her lower back. Curiously enough, Sebet seemed determined to keep her horned crown.

Gregory gave me an uncertain glance, centred himself, sighed and stiffly joined Sebet as she languidly strolled along the shore of the lake.

Jayne watched Sebet’s retreating form with open suspicion.

“Ah, uh, is there anything we can do for your Majesty?” Randle asked with a small degree of uncertainty, his attention similarly divided between myself and Sebet.

Faine straightened his back and squared his shoulders while drifting slightly closer to his cousin, most likely out of familial solidarity.

“Not right at this moment,” I replied with an apologetic smile, “But I think familiarising yourself with your new Abilities, and those I have given you, would be in all our best interest.”

The Ainsley's took a moment to silently confer with one another before nodding in agreement.

“However, if you like, you can spend a while here by the lakeside,” I offered kindly as a small form of compensation for their service, “All I ask is that you continue to show respect for anyone else who is enjoying the same privilege.” I hadn’t originally intended to add the last part, but I noticed Ophelia flying over the lake in our direction and figured a certain degree of prudence wouldn’t go amiss. “And if Ophelia requests a duel, you are allowed, and indeed encouraged, to refuse.”

***** Ophelia - Tim’s Demi-Plane ~ Sanctuary *****

Ophelia watched in mild disappointment as Tim left the three human soldiers behind and headed toward his cave. Assuming he was intending to spend private time with his wife and children, Ophelia redirected her attention toward the soldiers instead.

Confident that Orphiel was still completely involved in composing his latest ballad for the scarred Dryad, Ophelia decided she would spend her own time more productively.

The three Humans had knelt respectfully on one knee in anticipation of her arrival.

Ophelia had never felt truly comfortable about soldiers and warriors kneeling as a sign of respect. It was entirely too similar to an expression of surrender for her tastes. A true soldier or warrior would never kneel unless it was to show complete unreserved support for their Tyrant.

It took Ophelia a couple of moments to overcome the mental laggardness that accompanied an unbidden expression of her mental conditioning.

Intended as something of a secret safeguard in case an enemy managed to take control or subvert her mind, Ophelia didn’t mind its presence in her mind. In fact, she found it rather comforting, most of the time.

Shaking the thoughts of the conditioning from her mind, so as not to accidentally provoke them further, Ophelia focused her attention on the trio of kneeling Humans.

“Greetings!” Ophelia beamed enthusiastically, “You may rise, noble warriors! The worthy need not kneel in my presence!” She encouraged them.

The two men seemed uncertain of themselves and glanced at one another while the woman rose to her feet.

“Thank you, Lady Ophelia,” the woman placed her hand over her heart and bowed.

“Do you want to practise swordsmanship with me?” Ophelia asked excitedly while trying, and failing, not to sound overly keen.

The two men had regained their feet and looked like they were about to say something, but the woman spoke first.

“It would be my honour, my Lady,” she agreed respectfully, “Only...” She hesitated, “I don’t have my sword with me...” She explained apologetically.

“Oh...” Ophelia’s enthusiasm momentarily ebbed and then flared to life again as she had an idea, “What style of sword do you prefer?” Ophelia asked curiously.

The woman, Jayne, according to the registry, furrowed her brow in thought for a moment as she conceptualised her weapon of choice. “Well, I guess it’s something of a custom variation on-” Jayne’s voice froze as Ophelia materialised a simulacrum of her weapon and offered it to her.

Ophelia paid little mind to the small amount of Divinity expended in creating the minor magic item. Perfecting her martial prowess was a far higher priority than hoarding Divinity. “Do you like it?!” Ophelia asked with an excited smile, “The blade can regenerate if you feed it your mana! That way we can practise for hours!”

The woman, Jayne, visibly hesitated for a moment, “I uh...I don’t quite know what to say...” She admitted apologetically.

Ophelia’s hopes fell.

“Such a valuable gift...” Jayne continued, still struggling to find the words to express her rejection in full.

Ophelia braced herself.

“It would be my immense honour to accept such a valuable and prestigious gift!” Jayne declared loudly and bowed stiffly at the waist.

Ophelia stared blankly for a moment while her brain struggled to keep up with her ears. “You mean you will accept?” She asked uncertainly.

Jayne vigorously nodded her head while staring at the sword with awe-filled eyes.

Ophelia offered her the sword.

Jayne gulped dryly and accepted the sword with trembling hands, “It’s beautiful...” She whispered hoarsely.

Ophelia objectively assessed the sword and realised that she had made a few minor mistakes. It tended to happen when she was excited and didn’t take the time to double-check her work.

The wide emerald-tinged silvery crossguard was formed from braided branches sporting large thorns that could be angled to catch and lock an inattentive enemy’s blade. The pommel was styled after a flower Ophelia struggled to identify off the top of her head. Lastly, the blade had a wavering edge that would enhance the swords ability to hew through exposed flesh, and the rigid magically reinforced core would ensure the blade wouldn’t snap if used to arrest the charge of a multi-ton assailant.

“Does...Does it have a name?” Jayne asked reverently.

“I didn’t give it one,” Ophelia replied thoughtfully, “But I could, if you like?”

Jayne gulped dryly again and nodded silently.

“Hrm...” Ophelia’s attention lingered on the unidentified flower, “Verdant Wave,” she decided, accidentally expending another small mass of Divinity in the process.

The wavy blade of the sword took on an emerald aura.

“That’s interesting,” Ophelia commented curiously, “I wonder what it does?” She stared at it closely for a few moments, “Oh, it’s parasitic,” Ophelia declared confidently.

The three Humans stared at her uncomprehendingly.

“The sword will feed on mana on its own, that’s what the glow means,” Ophelia explained happily, “Oh, but not yours,” she reassured Jayne, “Not unless you find yourself on the wrong end, anyway.”

“It can drain an enemy’s mana?...” Jayne croaked in shock.

Ophelia nodded, “So long as they come into contact with the blade,” Ophelia agreed, “Right now, it’s feeding on the ambient mana in the air.”

Jayne’s two companions stared enviously at Verdant Wave, but not in a malicious way.

“I could provide each of you with a weapon as well,” Ophelia offered with an inviting smile, “Assuming you want to engage in some friendly sparring.”

The two men shared a brief look with one another and then bowed low at the waist, “It would be our honour!” They declared in unison and with absolute sincerity.

Ophelia floated a few feet off the ground before managing to restrain her excitement. It had been so long since she had anyone besides Clarice to seriously practise with. Everyone else refused to continue after the first few warm-up rounds. Besides, Ophelia had been confined to The Grove after accidentally dismembering a particularly reckless young Orc.

The fact that Ophelia had reattached the arm didn’t seem to matter much to Wraithe, who had demanded Orphiel confine Ophelia to The Grove as punishment. Of course, the terms of her confinement said nothing about sparring with willing volunteers who entered The Grove.

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