A week later…

  “The Hlaetians? Already?” I had to ask, looking back and forth between the two of them, who were looking at me grimly, their minds already made up. “Both our best Warlords, riding out to take revenge for past evils on the wicked Viamontians.” I just threw up my hands while Briggs and Princess Kristie both winced.

  “Fine. Fine! I knew it had to be done, I just thought you’d wait longer.” They relaxed a little bit as I sighed. “But no, you aren’t hacking a path directly for the King and his court first.” They stiffened up again as I pointed at both of them. “You’re going to act like good Warlords and nobles, and clean up the messes of your past life.

  “You’re going to start with Silyun and Sir Bellas.”

  Kris’ face was the most confused. “Sir Bellas? Isn’t he dead?” she asked quickly, pale amethyst eyes fixed intently on me now.

  “He’s a cursed NPC in the System. Didn’t you go searching for more information about them?” She pursed her lips once. “Right, you’ve been busy, and you lived those lives, what more did you need to know?

  “Sir Bellas was basically exiled to a prison in the northern reaches of the Hlaetians, one distant, hard to reach, multi-leveled, and dangerous to go through. Just unlocking the Portal to enter the first Dungeon of it back then took a quest, and it’s likely we’ll still need the magic of the Fiuns, if they survived, to get into the place, unless I can dig around it.

  “Sir Bellas was the one who dropped the Augment Stones for the first cycle of post-Paramount improvements. People had to enter the Dungeon and kill him for the gems, except he always respawned for the next group of people to do the same thing to him.”

  The look on both their faces was extremely ugly. “He was one of the noblest knights of Viamont, as fine a soldier and teacher as I could have wished,” Briggs rumbled dangerously.

  “It was a different life, but we owe him a great deal,” Princess Kristie stated flatly. “If he’s still alive in there, releasing him from the System is the first thing we are going to do,” she agreed quickly. “What do we have to do?”

  “We need to go see the Fiuns, if they still survive. But first, the survivors of Silyun. I presume you’ve gotten some updates from Master Oswald the Well-Traveled?”

  “We have. The remaining Viamontians of Silyun managed to withdraw to the Fortress of the Knights of Karlun and use it as a strongpoint when the Fall occurred. Many of, if not all, of the Viamontian Knights who had been modified by the command of the Viamontian King went utterly mad during the Fall, killing and hacking away at anyone and everyone around them, while the Viamontians also lost all control over their Eaters.” Her smile was utterly merciless. “The funnest part is the Red Bull of Sanamar.”

  I should’ve gotten more updates from Oswald myself. “Oh?” I asked blankly, having no idea what that even was.

  “It turns out the Red Bull of Sanamar was a mutated thing being fed the hearts and glands of Fiuns driven mad by a magical disease. Well, with the Fall, guess what? Almost all of those Fiuns turned out to be already dead, Summons of the System, and didn’t drop hearts and glands any more… and oddly enough, all the insane knights fused into their armor hacking everything around them weren’t going out and fetching any, anymore.

  “The Red Bull went totally nuts, doubled in size, and went on a rampage killing and eating everything.

  “More importantly, somehow the Very Mad Cow somehow found it, and now the two of them wander the Hlaetian Islands killing and eating everything they come across as mooo-ving avatars of destruction.”

  The Very Mad Cow had been one of the ‘boss’ creatures you could fight in the infamous Colosseum, whose Dungeon entrance we’d yet to find, oddly enough, despite knowing right where its Portal had been.

  That meant, of course, that it was actually tied to another real-world location.

  “There’s no way the Colosseum is tied to the Hlaetians. Someone thought it would be fun to put them together…” I shook my head, doubting the System admins even cared about the cruelty of what they were doing, considering the Fall’s effects. “How are the Viamontians actually set on things?”

  “On the martial side, not well. Strangely enough, the Royal Wizards under Varicci II weren’t big users of magical gear, and so remarkably few died during the Surge, and so they weren’t killed by the destruction of the Deathstones. Viamontain adventurers who didn’t work for the king were not so lucky. It turns out being independently wealthy and finely equipped was worse for your health than blind loyalty to a despot,” Briggs grunted.

  I just glanced back and forth between them. “So… he’s protected by a lot of spellcasters who can’t Cast above a Gold spell…” Their smiles slowly widened. “Am I even going to be needed for that trip, other than for quick healing? I’ve a feeling I’d just be in the way…”

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  “It turns out that the Viamontian Hands have totally unique Armor that didn’t fuse to them, they were awarded it after attaining their status. So, of all the knights to survive, the most elite of them, the Viamontian Hands, are the ones who survived the most fighting, and indeed probably did the lion’s share of the martial work protecting those who survived.”

  “I confess to being surprised Varicci did,” I admitted. “All reports of him did not indicate much restraint about him. I thought he would have tons of protective devices upon him which killed him.”

  “He trusted his spellcasters to protect him with spells, instead of Gear,” Briggs grumbled. “He lost his favorite Sword or two, but the ornamental plate he wore was enchanted for ease of taking on and off and replacing with actual Armor, not for protective ability. He was wounded and scarred, but survived the Surge entirely, not unlike Borelean and Kresovus did. What civilians survived the majority of the knights and eaters going crazy have little choice but to follow him, and they control Sanamar and the peninsula upon which the Royal Keep is situated, a strong tactical position which has enabled them to withstand any random eater hordes which come surging across the island.”

  “I would say pit the eaters against the olthoi, but I doubt that is wise from the standpoint of anyone,” I admitted. “One to transform the world, the other to eat it.”

  “We both have grave doubts that any of the Fiun survive, unless they possibly took shelter among the Ruschk, who have long been neutral and uncaring of them. They were almost extinct on the island as it was, and while the eater hordes may not bother the mad Fiuns… those are likely Summons, and any real, sane Fiuns would be meals like anything else that moves.”

  I reflected on the stories about the Eaters. They were two-legged, huge-jawed eating machines massing about the size of a large boar. True to their name, their only function was to eat and keep eating, never truly being sated. The Fiun had invented them as a new life form to dispose of their garbage… and had destroyed their homeworld in so doing.

  The insane Fiun were a result of Varicci taking a gland from the brains of the enslaved Fiun, feeding the glands to the Eaters to enslave them as attack dogs. One mad plan birthing another one.

  The last known Fiun female on Dereth had perished two decades ago. Unless they survived on another world, they were all likely dead at this point. The only thing which likely had saved Dereth is that Eaters couldn’t swim, and when hordes of Eaters driven by hunger ran into the sea, they ended up becoming meals for the creatures of the sea.

  “You probably can’t wipe the Eaters until you seal all the Summons of the Hlaetians that spawn them,” I said calmly. “Summons that eat and drop a Biter drop a real creature made from real matter, probably because they are Aberrants and have the backing of something of Mythos giving them their vitality. The Hlaetians are a shit-show with an infection that can’t be allowed to escape them, as well as a demonstrably Mythos-worshipping savage race, and that isn’t even counting the intelligent and malicious penguins who live there. If they didn’t require icy waters to live, the penguins living there would be a nasty threat, and the Thrungus somehow manage to thrive there outside of a cave system and no known link to the Burun or Olthoi.

  “You’re jumping us right into a shitshow if you want us to get involved up there, and I don’t think we have the strength to clear the place easily, even though it is something that must be done.

  “I think it is noteworthy that the undead factions have no real involvement up there. The only reports we have are of Summons made from old Dericostan naval forces who initially made contact with the Ruschk and ended forging the downfall of their own empire. The Gelidites and the Wind do not wish to stir the patrons of the Ruschk again.”

  “That’s all wound up with Vissidal and the Dark Island and Grael,” Kris nodded. “I don’t intend to get involved with their messes at this time. I would like to evacuate the remaining Bellenesse survivors from their fortress first, then go after Sir Bellas. We will take our vengeance on Varicci last.”

  I nodded once. “You will need to establish a lived-line link to the islands, which means running there from Stonehold, most likely. Others should also gain the link if possible. Are we taking the same team as on Freebooter?”

  “That would probably work out best. The two extra support mages will likely come in handy, and they are used to working together,” Kris nodded. “Mick might have to add a couple more Roaches.”

  “Kopf and Gross, perchance?” The two lugian Vanguards would definitely be assets.

  Kris and Briggs just glanced at one another, and both nodded. “We’ll put in the requests for them.”

  “What do you need to consolidate and firm up before we head out?” I asked calmly. My obligations weren’t going to stop just because I was on the opposite end of Dereth. My Resurrections of the Cursed Undead would continue every day, as would my Energizing of materials needed to craft high-QL items for Investing and Infusing, although happily I wasn’t needed often for Raise Dead with people reaching Nine and able to take over for that.

  I could also Fabricate more Scarabs from black rocks and stones from the Obsidian and Magma Golums, as the demand for those was also through the roof.

  “We’ll bring along enough stuff to keep us occupied in forgework during downtime.” Adamantine Jadework Weapons and Armor took even them a long time to hammer out successfully.

  “Also.” Kris slid her black-nailed hand out, rocks clattered, and she lifted it away.

  Eight Blackfire Stones taken from the heart of the Caulcano, exquisitely cut by those selfsame nails, glittered on the table between us.

  “Four Lesser, Four Major,” I saw at a glance, bending down to stare at the black jewels with the white fires glimmering in the heart of them. “The first new Blackfire Stones since the Fall.” I reached out to finger two of them. “For me?” I asked calmly.

  “Of course.” Briggs reached out to claim two of them as well. “What are these, by the way?”

  “Blackfire Obsidian and Blackfire Diamond, respectively.”

  “That’s the material you expect to need for VIII’s, right?” Kris asked, as I bent to the task of Socketing the gems to the cap of Crown’s top end, while Briggs fit them into the broad and heavy head of Endure.

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