129 (Patreon)

Erick asked, “What’re Treehome’s death-to-monsters statistics?”

“You’re here, in this space, and that’s what you ask?” Koropo laughed a little, then asked, “Is this the first time you’ve had this question?” He looked upon Erick, and said, “You didn’t actually know what you were offering us, did you?”

Erick ignored that last part of Koropo’s little interrogation, then said, “This is a lot more than I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“The conference room under Wyrmrest. From before.”

Koropo smiled a hard, happy grin, exposing his large lower fangs, saying, “It’s not every day the city of Treehome and the orcol people conspire with an archmage to rid a pair of monsters from the world. Of course this would be a big event, and what better place than the Red Henge?”

When Erick woke up this morning, he had expected directions to the conference room from before. Instead, Poi directed them to a large area in the mountains overlooking Treehome, that was anything but a simple staging area.

It was a ritual site according to everything Erick saw, from the pillars of stone lifted from the mountain like it was the older, much larger cousin to Stonehenge, to the plateaus all around where large red crystals strained against massive silver chains and bindings, struggling to soar up and away. If one were to watch with Meditation active, like Erick did, they would see that power hung in the air, in the manasphere, like red rivers barely held back from flooding the world. But even to normal sight, power circled the floating crystals and cycled through the Red Henge, winding and curling like a small part of the manasphere plucked out of the whole.

Hundreds of orcols stood outside of the main area, organized into loose groups of five to six. Quite a lot of them wore some sort of uniform-ish plate armor or standard-issue robes, but a lot more wore whatever they felt like. Some were in loincloths and wrappings. Others wore feathers and cloaks. Some had swords or staves or spears, while almost everyone had a knife at their belt. Magic laid heavy on them and Erick could tell a lot of their armor was conjured, but some had true metal armor and weapons and otherwise.

It was upon those who wore only magic that Erick saw the red rivers in the sky curling into them, but not sinking into their souls. Instead, that red river sunk into their magic, strengthening it, perhaps. Or perhaps sustaining it in an easier manner than their users could on their own.

But it was on the plateaus of the Red Henge where the real organization would take place. It was there that people set up [Viewing Screen]s of all sorts. Erick knew some of the people in that space. Peron was there, and he saw Erick, but immediately turned away to look upon a [Viewing Screen] and talk to someone operating that screen. Chieftain Bloodwoo Nosier, that massively tall orcol, spoke to other similar-height orcols, the group of them standing under a central floating crystal that was redder than red.

None of the two thousand people here were obviously anxious, but Erick was certainly getting there.

“What is this place, anyway?” Erick asked.

Koropo nodded, then looked out over the land with Erick, saying, “A ritual site dedicated to mastery over the Forest. Our people come here when they need to vent their Rage over lost loved ones. Occasionally, people come here to take that Rage back, and commit vengeance against our enemies in the Green. It is said that when the Rage Wars ended, it was because of sites like this siphoning away the Rage from our people and into Aloethag. Many people have mixed feelings about this place, but it is certainly useful when the time is right, and there can be no better ‘right’ time than this.”

Erick looked to a pair of women that soaked up the Rage in the air, asking, “Is that what’s happening over there?”

Koropo followed Erick’s sight, then said, “Yes. They’re both priestesses of Aloethag.”

That threw Erick for yet another loop. “Those exist? I thought… Well. I’m not sure what I thought.”

“I can guess what you thought.” Koropo gave a weird expression halfway between a scrunched face and embarrassment. Erick couldn’t really tell what that was all about. Koropo said, “It’s complicated.”

In retrospect, it was obvious that priests and priestesses of Aloethag would exist. Whatever was going on there was probably not all that complicated, really. If gods controlled someone’s life, some of those people were bound to worship those gods. It was the same with the shadelings and Melemizargo.

Erick asked, “So? Statistics?”

Koropo huffed, then said, “We’ve got 9 million orcols of Treehome, with 40% being permanent residents. There’s rarely any monster deaths inside the city, itself. Mostly, those deaths come from people who explore the nearby Forest and suddenly find themselves overwhelmed. We have maybe 15,000 dead per year due to various monsters. Moon Reachers account for anywhere between 1,500 to 3,000 of those, though it’s hard to say. Some estimates have them at much lower than that, simply because we don’t know how a lot of people die when they die to monsters. If there’s matted silver fur at the scene then it’s obvious those ones were killed by Reachers, but that doesn’t happen all that often.

“Deathsoul Shrooms account for much higher casualty rates inside the city, itself, because once that infection takes hold and the soul starts to corrupt, then there’s no practical way to save the person. We have much better numbers on that one, at around 5,500 per year.

“All those numbers are completely inadequate when it comes to deaths of our transient orcols. We guess that there’s 22,000 orcols who die to Moon Reachers per year. Maybe 18,000 to Deathsoul Shrooms. Both Shrooms and Reachers have a much easier time operating outside of Treehome.

“For total orcol deaths per year from monsters and other Forest issues, you have to account for the total orcol population of Glaquin, and that’s only a little bit higher than Treehome’s 9 million, at about 10 million.

“Total orcol deaths per year, via monsters, across the Forest, is about 110,000 people. Monsters, as a whole, are the single greatest killers of our people.”

Erick blinked, then looked out across Treehome, then further, to see the Forest beyond. “Burning it all down and starting again seems like a great idea.”

“Aye.” Koropo gazed out with Erick, saying, “If the Prognosticators are wrong about the impact of removing the Moon Reachers, burning it all down and starting again will be the next task. We hope we’re not wrong.”

“Why not have everyone be a city orcol, then?” Erick asked, “Build some proper walls? Let anyone live there who wants to live there?”

Almost laughing, Koropo said, “Then we wouldn’t be who we are, Erick. We’d be caging ourselves, and we will never be caged, Erick; No. We fight fang and nail for our little slice of this world. Even if the monsters were a thousand times worse, we would still get up and keep fighting, because that is who we are. To do anything less would be a disservice to our neighbors, our children, and our parents; our tribe.” He added, “A lot of the transient tribes don’t ever want to be city orcols, either. I had a rather serious relationship once that broke down because she didn’t want to become a city orcol. A lot of city orcols have that same experience.”

“Sorry that didn’t work out for you.”

“Aye. It’s in the past. But thanks anyway.”

Erick asked, “Where do I go?”

“We still got a while yet before actual go-time. Maybe half an hour. A few other Elders need to show.” Koropo said, “But you can be anywhere you want, really. You don’t even have to do it from here, if you don’t want, but this is our base of operations. Everything that happens today will be coordinated from here.” He pointed to one of three empty stone platforms, saying, “That’s the spot we have for you, if you want it.”

“I will take it.” Erick said, “I also need some sort of sample of a Deathsoul Shroom, preferably some physical piece of one, if possible. I’m confident in my ability to find Moon Reachers since I have researched and seen them through Ophiel and can easily acquire my own samples, but researching Deathsoul Shrooms is not the same as seeing them and knowing them for what they are, and I am wary about approaching them with Ophiel out in the wild.”

Erick had found a few Adult Shrooms out in the Forest, but he had read about them, and he did not want his first experience with those monsters to be without supervision.

“Of course, Archmage. I will see it done.” He paused, then asked, “Do you know how to deal with a Shroom?”

“Vaguely, but if you know any tips, I’ll be glad to hear them.”

Koropo nodded. “Then I must explain that first before I find you your samples— Actually.” He swept his eyes across the people all around, and settled on Chieftain Bloodwoo Nosier. “He should explain. He would have those samples, too.”

Koropo stepped toward the tall orcol’s platform and Erick followed, feeling like a kid running after a grownup. An aide to Bloodwoo saw Erick coming and notified the chieftain, who then turned, and looked down upon Erick, for Bloodwoo was nearly four meters tall. Well over twice Erick’s height.

Erick came up to the man, feeling tiny, as he said, “Hello, Bloodwoo.”

Koropo stood to the side.

“Erick. Warchief.” Bloodwoo regarded them both. “Do you need anything from me while we are setting up?”

Koropo looked down to Erick.

Erick said, “I have no personal experience with Deathsoul Shrooms. Do you have samples that aren’t too deadly? Perhaps a proper explanation of the Shroom life cycle, so that I’m not missing anything obvious when I search for them? Are they, perhaps, several different shroom monsters at once? Or anything like that, really.”

Bloodwoo said, “Of course.” He held his hand out to the side, conjuring a large image of an orcol—

And then he instantly dismissed it.

He said, “I am being informed by Nosier that he wishes to personally tell you of our targets, as well as give you a sample. We have time, if you would agree to such a diversion. My Arbor also wishes to personally thank you for the recorder, and to ask you how it works and what ways there could be to improve upon the physical object.”

Erick smiled, then said, “Sure. Ten percent of the day’s treasure haul for an explanation of the recorder.”

Bloodwoo narrowed his large eyes. “Five.”

“Ten.”

“Seven.”

“Twelve.”

“… Ten.”

“I’m glad we could come to such a quick arrangement.”

“You agreed to take no treasure from this hunt, and we agreed to not speak ill of your involvement with the commune.” Bloodwoo said, “That you use this opportunity to take what was already promised to us does not bode well for future engagement.”

“Don’t pretend like you aren’t still happy.” Erick said, “You or Nosier, for that matter. I’m not sure which one of you I just bargained with. And I’m pretty sure that a lot of stuff everyone finds is going to get ‘lost’ in the hunt, as well it should; these people are risking their lives out there.” He added, “And a lesson on recorders was outside of that bargain, anyway.”

Bloodwoo hummed, then said, “Meet me at Nosier’s Roots.” And then he blipped away in a smattering of red.

Erick wrapped himself and Poi in light, and followed.

- - - -

Erick stepped out of the light and into the shadows of Nosier, right next to Bloodwoo, on the side of the road leading in toward Nosier.

Above and before and all around them, the boughs of Arbor Nosier wrapped into each other to form arches and support structures and the central, kilometer-tall and kilometer-wide hollow ‘wicker-basket’ that was Nosier’s ‘trunk’. Inside of those protective ‘roots’, lay Nosier’s magic laboratories, where streams of smoke and clouds of color flowed into the air, out of gaps between roots, and apprentices and masters alike made the magical items that helped a lot of Treehome to function. The Grand [Prestidigitation] Stove in Erick’s hotel room was made here, as well as the anti-magic runes that went into every other wall and protected space in the various Districts of Treehome. This was a semi-public space, with people streaming in and out all day long.

A pair of guards were stationed by the [Teleport] zone where Bloodwoo and Erick and Poi had come in. They noticed Erick and Poi, but focused on Bloodwoo, and bowed.

Bloodwoo walked toward an archway ahead, saying, “This shouldn’t take too long.”

Erick kept up, but it was a near miss. With Koropo, Erick had felt like a child, but with Bloodwoo, he felt like a small child racing to keep up with an adult.

Bloodwoo took them right past security, sweeping by students and masters alike, to a central elevator, and then to the left, to a smaller elevator. He went in, and Erick and Poi followed. With the push of a button that was actually out of Erick’s reach, and which Bloodwoo pressed the second Erick and Poi were inside, the elevator went up, and up.

“You walk rather fast!” Erick playfully said, as they ascended.

“It is a big day and after this meeting we will be leaving the faster way.” Bloodwoo said, “I hope you can deliver on your promises, Erick. It would be a true embarrassment for you if you cannot.”

“I can.” Erick said, “And if we miss a few, then this could be a yearly thing.”

“Hmm. Quite. Realistically, we hope to cull 95% of the problem. We wish for 100% of course, but the Forest is full of mountains and valleys and densities of magic that make conventional Scanning impossible.” Bloodwoo asked, “How is it that your Scan works so much better than all the rest?”

“Ah. Well.” Erick wanted to shut Bloodwoo down, to not answer any questions about [Cascade Imaging], but instead, he asked, “What will you offer for a half-answer?”

“More goodwill and charitable future interaction. Also, we will up our previous 10 percent to 15 percent.”

“… You tell me how you think it works, and I’ll tell you how close you are.”

Bloodwoo was a man who didn’t like beating around the bush, and so he immediately said, “You are Light aligned, and your first forays into magic were Particle-based and also light based, as evidenced by your advancements in the field of Stat enchantment. You assaulted everything I thought I knew about gem enchanting and mana light and the fundamental nature of this reality, so I would say your [Cascade Imaging] has to do with light, but not Light.”

Erick heard the inflection between ‘light’ and ‘Light’ and knew he probably had a dumb look on his face, for Bloodwood looked down at him, and smiled. Erick was about to speak when the elevator stopped, and Bloodwoo wordlessly stepped out into a hallway.

Erick followed, saying, “So… You… Uh. Imaging is Particle Mage only, though.”

“Of course it is.” Bloodwoo said, “And I’m trying to raise up some good Particle Mages myself for just that reason. We’ve got a whole class of them studying those new Particle Spells you’ve made, but I doubt a single one will actually acquire the Class. If a single one of them gets [Cascade Imaging] I will qualify the whole affair as a success. Nosier is hoping for [Control Weather] or possibly [Call Lightning].”

“Ah. Ha.” Erick said, “[Call Lightning] should be up in a few weeks.”

“13 days.”

“… 13 days?” Erick thought back to last year. “That can’t be right.”

“13 days,” Bloodwoo repeated.

“… But?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Bloodwoo walked through an archway made of stone and roots, to a room lined with glass boxes each a meter across, saying “That’s the number I heard from multiple sources, including Rozeta.”

While that number now loomed over Erick’s head, he peered into the glass boxes of the room and briefly forgot about his new deadline, for every single box was filled with rotten meat. Bones and sinew. Guts and cartilage. There was no smell, for the room itself was perfectly clean and normal, made of thick stone and filled with the dense, green Domain of Nosier. But that Domain was even thicker near the gore in the glass boxes, like it was holding something back. Erick instantly had the Ophiel on his shoulder turn on [Soul Sight].

Each pile of gore was absolutely awash in the Shroud of some large soul.

“Are these all… Are these all Deathsoul Shrooms?” Erick asked, suddenly aware that this was a very dangerous room, and while that glass looked thick and warded, he still felt a tingle of fear crawl down the back of his neck. It was almost the same fear as standing in front of a Shade for the first time, but Erick knew that these things were almost worse than Shades, for they played no games. They just consumed, and sought to consume even more. “And Nosier…?” His voice trailed off.

“Nosier holds them down, preventing them from continuing to grow. It is a good method for strengthening his own soul defenses.” Bloodwoo said, “Every Arbor does this. You would need to do this with your Yggdrasil, eventually.”

“… Oh.” Erick looked to the piles of gore, whispering, “They look a lot like the book said, but not quite.”

A new person stepped out of the air, into the center of the room, saying, “They are juveniles.”

Erick instantly recognized the man as the humanoid-form of Nosier, for his soul and everything else about him resembled O’kabil’s orcol-body form. His stature, though, was closer to Bloodwoo’s; very tall, and rather skinny. But instead of wearing normal robes, like his chieftain, Nosier wore robes of emerald light, the same color as the Domain all around them.

Bloodwoo said, “The gore is but a disguise of the child spore, designed to lure in new hosts. It usually succeeds. Adult Deathsoul Shrooms do not have to resemble this form, but the Adults usually have juveniles around them at all points in time, so this form is rather what people think of when they think of Deathsoul Shrooms.”

Nosier gazed down at Erick. “That deal about ‘telling us how close we are’; How close are we to [Cascade Imaging]?”

Erick deflected toward the Shrooms, saying, “I need some dead spore for a sample.”

“How dead?” Nosier asked, “Ash? Would ash work?”

Another ploy for information.

Erick saw a way around that, saying, “Ash would never work for Blood Magic.”

“So it is Blood Magic?”

Erick doubled down, “I need an inert sample for [Cascade Imaging].”

“How would you go about obtaining such a thing?”

“How would you?”

Nosier eyed Erick, saying, “Lock it in a [Ward]ed space and investigate it as needed with an Elemental Body of appropriate make. [Greater Lightwalk] or the Shadow variant would be my first choices. Touching it with your skin is even more dangerous than touching it with your soul, so don’t ever touch it.”

“Really?” Erick said, “Would that even work?”

Bloodwoo said, “Deathsoul Shrooms are particularly deadly to mages, for Health is one of the best ways to withstand soul and body attacks. Your inflated Health due to your rings might allow you a brief window in which to touch the actual spore and not become infected, but I would not chance it.”

Nosier said, “Most healthy people and almost every animal out there focuses on Strength and Vitality, and can fend off a Deathsoul Shroom infestation, but not always. Pass by a large enough clump of them and they can [Soul Burn] you into submission and then latch on.” He gestured to the glass cages, saying, “These ones are tiny and relatively safe compared to a real infestation, but even they would be striking you right this moment if not for my overriding soul. Have you ever had anti-soul-manipulation training?”

“I have not had much experience with soul attacks; no.” Erick frowned, saying, “And as you can see, I am not in that great of a shape for such training.”

“Yes. I can see that. So do you want to try holding a [Ward]ed glass sphere of Shroom, anyway?” Nosier said, “It would be nothing to prepare one of these for you. I often prepare them for others so that they can experience soul attacks to learn to defend from them, but if you need one for Scanning purposes then you need one, and I can give you one. I will, of course, keep an eye on your soul if you wish to Image from a room I have in here; I keep many [Scry] rooms active and pleasant, as would any proper host of mages.” He barreled on ahead, saying, “If O’kabil isn’t treating you right, I certainly will.”

“Thank you for the offer of hospitality, but I don’t feel like moving my stuff; no offense.”

Nosier hummed.

Erick said, “I will take you up on your offer of some soul watching help, and that orb, but I will be Imaging from that platform they have set up for me back at the monument, or whatever it’s called. Hopefully I only need the one exposure.”

Nosier nodded. “You still haven’t explained your Imaging for that extra 5% take.”

“… I don’t need that 5%.”

“We have books!” Nosier said, slightly pleading, and then he instantly calmed. He offered, “Many, varied books, full of magical knowledge. More than you. Almost as much as the Headmaster. Just tell me how the spell works over such a long range and I will open my libraries to you.”

Erick almost shut Nosier down again, but he considered what he knew, and what he knew was that Treehome was full of good people, even if they had been rather harsh on the shadelings, and on the Cultists. Erick didn’t have much personal interaction with Nosier so far, but he suspected that they would have a lot more interactions going forward. If anyone should have some information about [Cascade Imaging], then it should be Nosier, right?

Erick asked, “You can keep secrets?”

Nosier almost looked offended for half a second, then he lost the attitude, and said, “Of course.”

“… A hint, then, and that is all, for this touches upon something I don’t want to reveal yet.” Erick said, “[Cascade Imaging] doesn’t Image at the site. It Images at the cascading orb in the air. All of the magic of the spell is contained in that orb.”

Nosier suddenly breathed deep. Bloodwoo narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular.

Nosier glared, but there was no fire behind his gaze. “Another 5% for a better hint.”

“Nope. Sorry.” Erick said, “Cannot do. I have obligations to more than just you.”

Bloodwoo said, “We already suspected this, but to know is a boon.”

Nosier glared at Bloodwoo for a moment, then said, “Fine. It qualifies. 15% of the day’s declared take.” He added, “You were right about treasure not finding its way to us. We suspect we’ll lose out on over half of what is actually recovered. These are acceptable losses considering the gain.”

“I knew Moon Reachers and Deathsoul Shrooms were bad, but I didn’t know they were quite as bad as Koropo told me.” Erick said, “That man knows a lot.”

Bloodwoo said, “It is his job and place to know the numbers. This is expected.”

Nosier nodded, then casually reached over to one of the glass boxes of gore. With a twist of his green Domain, a small section of bone and gore snapped off of the pile inside and floated upward. The break left behind did not look like the rotten meat that it seemed to be, instead, it was like a cross section of a loaf of bread; airy and bubbly. The entire pile of gore truly was fake; a facade to fool anyone interested in an easy meal, to fool them into getting close and taking a bite.

If the spore in their mouth didn’t get them, the spores flowing up from the new break in the gore’s surface would have.

Erick switched on [Blood Sight], and saw the pile of gore as completely false. It was a living organism made of fake bones and fake blood and fake meat.

Wrapped in Nosier’s emerald Domain, that broken piece of the Deathsoul Shroom floated upward and toward the wall of the enclosure. With another twist of magic, Nosier plucked the sample into a bubble in the thick glass, and then out away from the enclosure. He picked the sample out of the air, holding it between a thumb and a forefinger that were each as big as Erick’s own forearm. The glass bubble was the size of Erick’s own fist; tiny, compared to the person holding it, and even smaller than that, when considering that the ‘person’ was actually the mana construct of a kilometers-wide Arbor.

Erick wondered, briefly, if the Script Second still applied to Arbors, or if they did all their casting manually, like the Shades.

Nosier cast several small spells over the glass sphere all in under a second, confirming what Erick had already suspected. He handed the sample to Erick, saying, “It will attack you when you touch the sphere with your lightform. Don’t let it get a foothold.”

Erick steeled himself, and took the sphere with a lightform tendril.

The distancing of the tendril did not work as well as Erick had hoped. As he touched the sphere, a cold fear ran up his spine. He breathed deeper, which was probably a method for the Deathsoul Shrooms to further invade a potential intruder. He calmed, even as his heart raced. He thought, even as his stomach quivered and his feet told him to run away and seek the safety of others.

He mumbled, “Which is yet another way it gets you to spread it…” He said, “These things are insidious, aren’t they—”

Nosier snatched the sphere from Erick’s lightform, saying, “That’s enough. That was rougher than I thought it would be.”

Erick glanced at his own soul and saw it was more or less the same. Still, he shivered as though he had just come out of the cold. “That was slightly disconcerting.” He breathed, shallow and controlled, then had an Ophiel that was already outside, move into the air directly over the center of Treehome.

Nosier cocked his head, just a bit, turning his eyes toward the center sky of the city.

Erick held his hand and his light out, saying, “Again. This time with Imaging.”

Nosier plopped the sphere down onto Erick’s waiting light.

Cold crawled across Erick’s back, into his chest, into his soul, as he flowed mana through his light and into the Deathsoul Shroom spores. Quick as a wink, he cast through that sample, searching for DNA at Ophiel’s resolving map, in the center of Treehome’s sky.

And then his lightform did something strange.

It crushed down onto the Deathsoul Shroom’s container, like a muscle out of control; a twitch, and a shatter. Glass broke. Ophiel squawked. False-gore splat—

Nosier locked down the very air, containing everything that should not have been broken in the first place. With a shove like a god tipping him backward, Erick landed two meters away from the broken sphere, falling into Poi’s arms. The shards of glass hovered back together, reforming their container around the now very dead Deathsoul Shroom.

Sweat rolled down Erick’s face as Bloodwoo looked down upon him, a look on his face as though he had been proven right about something.

Nosier’s body briefly turned translucent.

Poi righted Erick, then shivered himself. Erick stopped hyperventilating; when had he even started? Ah. Shit. That was scary. And then Erick laughed. Poi sighed.

Erick said, “Ah! Shit! That was terrifying!”

Bloodwoo sighed. “Quite.”

Poi shivered, again.

Nosier came back to his false body, and said, “A dangerous thing, that.” He glanced away, toward where Erick’s map lay, hovering and populating above Treehome. “But I think it worked.”

Erick turned his attention away from his own mortality, as he turned his eyes toward the Ophiel at the new map in the center of Treehome. The map came together with little blue dots exactly where Erick, Poi, and Bloodwoo stood; inside Nosier.

Erick relaxed a little, as he said, “So I guess that works.” With a small instruction, he sent a sunform Ophiel lightstepping deep into the Forest to the north, putting Ophiel far enough out that a second [Cascade Imaging] wouldn’t interfere with the first. And then he cast from memory, searching for Deathsoul Shrooms. While that second map populated, he asked, “So my Ophiel is beginning to get a Shroud. Any idea if he’d be subject to a Deathsoul Shroom?”

Nosier looked to the bundle of fluff and eyes on Erick’s shoulder, and said, “Impossible to know unless you try. I assume they’re all the same [Familiar]? You’d have to dismiss all of him if he gets infected to clear out any soul infection, but I don’t see that being a problem.”

Erick glanced out to the second map, saw all the blue, then came back, wide-eyed, asking, “How many instances of these monsters do you expect to find today?”

“50,000 Moon Reachers. Several hundred square kilometers of Deathsoul Shrooms.” Bloodwoo said, “Conservative estimates.”

Nosier said, “I’m guessing 65,000 Reachers and 1,200 square kilometers of juvenile Shrooms, with at least a few hundred adult varieties. 350, probably.”

With Ophiel’s eyes glancing down upon something rather terrifying in the middle of the Forest, far away, Erick came back to himself, and said, “Ah. Yes. Adult Shrooms. Of course.” He breathed. He said, “I didn’t expect them to be that big. You know, you read about something, but then you see it. And. Well.”

“Oh!” Nosier asked, “Where?” He looked away. “Not near the city?”

Erick sent a telepathic pulse to Nosier, including the location of the second map. “Here.”

Nosier turned around to face northwest. “Ah! That is a big one. Are you going to kill it?”

Erick said, “I’m going to kill it now.”

And then he did, cracking the sky with light, pouring [Vivid Gloom] onto that faraway part of the Forest, gradually and yet quickly turning trees covered in gore and a central spire of fake bone, blood, and rotten flesh, into burned shrooms. The Forest caught on fire, briefly. The Forest fought back, briefly.

The Forest lost, completely.

For anyone else, fighting the adult Deathsoul Shroom would have been an act of heroism. A trial of a life, a hero fighting against a monster that was in fact a thousand monsters, each linked to each other and each pulling on the soul of anyone who tried to attempt its destruction. A man or woman fighting on the ground would have been stripped to their bare self, like an exposed nerve of a tooth, trying as they might to hold themselves together as they hacked and slashed and burned through suddenly appearing ghosts of everyone who had fallen to the Shroom before then.

Ghosts, in most cases, but also ‘flesh’ horrors that would not appear until later, after the ghosts had failed to eat the hero. Monsters of not-meat and not-bone would have pulled themselves from the piles, organizing themselves around fragmented souls, and the desire to hunt and add real flesh to their piles, or to spawn, and lay their spore in fertile flesh.

For even if the hero succeeded, they would likely be marked by the shroom; a latent infection, to come out in dreams and germinate at the base of the brain. That hero would then walk around their town, dripping slime that would become tiny piles of gore, to start the process all over again.

But for Erick, a few thousand kilometers away from the adult and casting spells through [Familiar]s that flew high in the sky, clearing out an adult infestation was as simple and as necessary as desiring such a thing. This was the power of an archmage, and it was not fair, though it was necessary.

Places like Treehome, and Spur, and many other places, would simply not exist if not for people like Erick. The monsters were too strong. They were too populous.

After the course of today and the following week, no doubt, some of those monster populations would be less populous, though, and that was good.

Erick cast a few more [Vivid Gloom]s, shaping them to be airy, clinging things, to seek out Erick’s targets and to drag those targets into its darkest, brightest, burning depths.

First, came the kill notifications, pouring in like sudden rain. Deathsoul Shrooms died by the hundreds of thousands, with not a single one being more than level 40 according to Erick’s focused Perception. They were colony monsters, after all. They probably shared in each monster they killed.

And then another blue box appeared, dominating the rest.

--

Vivid Gloom Ooze, instant + 1 minute, super long range, 1000 MP

Chaotic radiance grows to become a super large ooze under your control, dealing <damage> every second to all consumed. <Various effects of direct exposure include, but are not limited to, Cancer, Blindness, Magic Failure, Immolation, Boiling, and other Decay-like effects.> Spell lasts <1 hour> after conjuring is complete. Effects last longer.

Particle Mage Only.

--

Erick felt a twitch in his soul as something slid some odd kinda way, almost like another muscle spasm. He dismissed the blue box, knowing it as useful. He hadn’t been trying for a new spell; not exactly. But he was happy with the one he had gotten. He kinda liked ooze and slime magic. It was always useful.

He looked up at Nosier and Bloodwoo, saying, “Thanks for this.” He added, “And about the music player, it just works off of recording the vibrations in the air. For my next version, I’m going to try something involving isolating individual sounds and then playing them all together on a few record players at once. Like, one for the deep sounds, another for the middle, another for the high. That sort of thing.”

Nosier said, “A good idea.” He crushed the sphere in his hands, annihilating the small amount of dead Shroom and glass, all at once, in a rather impressive, tiny display of power. And then he went on as if he hadn’t displayed such power, speaking like a nosy neighbor, or perhaps like an enthusiastic coworker, saying, “I have a method for reproducing song crystals from song crystals, but the fidelity fails around the third re-recording. And then there’s the problem of all magic items: they naturally decay. Yet another issue when it comes to recording from recordings.” He gestured away, saying, “But we can talk about that another time. Do you require some more Soul Palm Balm? Syllea might have her connections, but I also have connections too, you know.”

Erick said, “I would love a cup of tea before we begin the day’s events. I am feeling rather disconcerted after experiencing that soul attack; yes.” He glanced to Poi. “Do you want some, too?”

Poi shook his head.

Nosier gestured toward the door, saying, “I’ll meet you there. Bloodwoo can show you.”

And then he vanished in a sparkle of green.

Bloodwoo said, “This way,” as he walked out of the Deathsoul Shroom room.

Erick felt a whole lot better as he stepped out of that gory place. As he looked to Poi and saw the sapphire-scaled man visibly relax, he knew he had not been alone with his primal fear.

- - - -

Erick sat down for a spot of tea in a small room that was more like an extended balcony. Sunlight glittered above, falling through Nosier’s canopy, but barely reached down into this cool, comfortable place. Wardlights provided most of the illumination, while nice wooden chairs with cushions and high backs made Erick feel like a kid sitting at a high table.

… A lot of this entire building was like that.

Nosier set out a pot of tea atop the table, along with a small tray of three bricks of Soul Palm Balm. Of course, for Nosier, ‘small’ was the size of a fingernail, but one of Nosier’s fingernails was the size of Erick’s whole hand. Erick eyed the absolute bricks of Soul Palm Balm, and wondered at how ludicrously expensive they were.

Without asking or consideration, Nosier set a brick of the white, sugary, oil-like Soul Palm Balm into a small teacup that was actually a massive mug, already filled with boiling water. He set that mug in front of Erick, saying, “Drink as much as you want. Despite doctor instructions, there is no overdosing on this stuff, but a soul can only heal so much so fast. Any excess past that natural limit turns to smokey Shroud that rubs off rather fast but which will insulate you against further soul damage as long as that excess exists. We can do this later, when it is time for actual Shroom scanning, after we’re done with the Reachers.” He immediately went into, “Now about this Particle Magic nonsense.”

Erick glanced down at the sludge of a sugary drink that Nosier had made, and asked, “So this stuff can insulate me? Why not bring that up first?” He mumbled, “Would have been good to have before I went in there.” He shivered a bit, then put his hands on the warm mug. The day seemed a bit brighter as he felt the warmth seep into his palms. “I had some of this stuff from Syllea. I didn’t know it could do that. I would have prepared better.”

“You didn’t know?” Nosier waved Erick off, saying, “That’s not important. You know now, and that is all that matters. So why did you have the idea to take vibrations in the air and turn them into physical records? Is this a Particle Magic thing? In retrospect, this is an obvious solution. But the quality is much less than a Song Crystal, and thus the end product is not that great. Do you know the difference between a song crystal and a normal recording?”

Erick breathed deep, then spoke when he guessed it was his turn. “Not really.”

“You’ll figure it out. So have you done any more enchanting? You’ve revolutionized the field of Stat enchanting and I’ve been trying to replicate the silver coating but…”

Erick sipped his tea, and endured. Time spent with Nosier was a mentally taxing affair of questions regarding Particle Magic and the overt implication that Erick was rather dumb. Or at least uneducated.

Which… Was true, from a certain perspective.

… From most perspectives, actually.

When it was over, Erick wasn’t quite sure if he liked Nosier, if any of the Arbor’s complaints were valid, or if the tree was just like that. Bloodwoo certainly seemed like that, too. Not quite rude, but altogether rather caustic.

The tea was great, though.

Next time, Erick would definitely fight back a bit with his own caustic words, just to see what happened.

- - - -

Erick stood on one of three platforms around the central platform, out of the way from most other people, but surrounded by his own. Jane was at his right, Teressa was on his left. Kiri and Poi stood behind. All around, on the henges and the obelisks and the platforms, red crystals strained to fly into the sky, but failed to do so because of the heavy chains that held them tight. Red streams in the manasphere flowed around crystal and stone, while the only Ophiel in the area sat upon Erick’s shoulder, and Sunnys floated around wherever they were wont.

Tacticians, organizers, and Team Leaders, organized 200 teams of 5 people each, all across the mountainside. A thousand warriors and mages, each ready to loose their power against enemies that had plagued Treehome for as long as anyone could remember. Some of them were Mind Mages, ready to defend themselves and their people from the [Thought Fog]s of the Reachers. Most wore mental magic blockers around their skulls, like iron crowns. Almost all of them stood loose and cool, but slowly, and then quickly, the time approached for war. Tension rose.

Without warning, for everyone was waiting for just such a thing to happen, Warchief Koropo Ikabobbi moved away from the [Viewing Screen]s and took the center stage. His armor was blood-red that shone in the mid-morning light. It was real armor, made of real metal. Erick could tell that much, though he couldn’t tell what kind of metal it was, exactly. All he could truly tell was that it was very magical and also layered over with Force; a casting of [Envelop Item], no doubt.

Warriors, mages, and everyone else, looked up. Slight disorganization turned to perfect wartime harmony. Extraneous voices cut off. Everyone watched. The very air seemed to calm, as though giving the blood-red warrior the floor.

Koropo’s voice boomed across the mountain, “We gather for what is Right! We gather to honor the fallen, and to honor those yet to come! We gather for pride in ourselves and our country and our people! Today, we will end the monstrous threat laid against us! Today, the Tribes of Treehome go to to war!”

The crowd boomed,

“HOOO RAAAH!”

Koropo nodded, repeating, “Hoo rah,” then stepped off the stage.

People started shouting orders.

Erick’s maps were already out there, in the Forest, waiting with their thousands and thousands of blue dots, with more blue dots appearing as every second passed.

Mages began moving people around. Erick spotted several people with blue and brown badges on their chests; the mark of the Wayfarer’s Guild. He spotted even more with Adventurer’s Guild badges. He saw Kordon, as Kordon waved to Jane, smiling, and Jane just frowned at him. Kordon laughed as he blipped away with his team. Jane just huffed.

Jane hadn’t been invited to any hunting team, even though she had wanted to go. Erick would have to find a way to get her out there on her own, for she was perfectly capable of taking out Reachers without anyone else’s help. But, for now, she held back.

And then instructions and questions and shifts in his maps were demanded. Erick complied.

He watched.

Maps all across the Forest showed the locations of enemies who sought nothing more than the pain and the deaths of every living thing besides themselves. Maybe the Deathsoul Shrooms weren’t malicious about it; Erick didn’t know. But the Moon Reachers certainly acted to cause the most pain possible.

And so, Erick watched.

And when necessary, he helped.

- - - -

In the deep Forest, where spirits roamed and monsters consumed, and animals were just as vicious as all the rest, there was a camp. You wouldn’t know it was a camp unless you had some mental protections, for all anyone normally saw were shaggy grey trees, or boulders, or splayed out silver grasses, looking like minor hills in the sunlight. Maybe laying down on that hill over there, in the sun, was a good idea? It certainly looked comfortable enough.

But for those who could see, they saw sleeping Moon Reachers.

A trio of mages and a pair of warriors descended on the camp.

They won.

They took gold from fingers and spat on the shaggy silver corpses when they were done. The Forest would reclaim those bodies fast enough. Some of that fresh meat was already being eaten; the parasites and bugs that lived on the Moon Reachers were all too happy to consume their dead hosts, now that their meat was wholly undefended.

That team went on to the next target. They needed no help, and so Erick gave them none.

- - - -

200 teams of high-powered soldiers, adventurers, and mages, had vacated the fields around the Red Henge in a matter of minutes. They blipped into the Forest, positioning themselves according to their handlers, who watched from [Viewing Screen]s all around the sacred site.

When a team didn’t run into trouble, it took ten minutes for one team to take down one group of Moon Reachers. That was just the average, though. And that average was concerning.

For as the maps populated and the full extent of the problem came into view, the numbers were reevaluated.

The Forest of Glaquin was roughly 14,000 kilometers long from east to west, and half of that from north to south. The total area of the place was well over a hundred million square kilometers.

Six Africas. Seven North Americas. Almost 4 Asias. No matter how you cut it, the Forest was massive, with hundreds of thousands of separate ecosystems and billions upon billions of places to hide.

Erick’s map, at its largest setting, covered over 3 million square kilometers. In ideal conditions, he could Image the whole of the Forest in 33 maps. Erick had sat down and done the math with Kiri before today, but here, at the event, the pure ability to do such a thing, at all, boggled, just a bit. The Elders were certainly impressed.

But Erick could not Image at the largest setting, because the trees of the Forest, the monsters therein, or the power of the land, was not easily penetrated. Or maybe it was just the nature of the beast, and there was nothing magical at all in that deep, dark place.

Yeah right.

But the fact was, that every map placed next to every other map would make both maps useless, as they interfered with each other way too much to ever produce a useful result.

Erick knew this, though. He did not suggest maps every thousand kilometers in a square pattern. Koropo asked for such a thing, and Erick complied just to show it wasn’t possible. So he switched to an ‘every other’ square of Forest Imaging pattern; a checkerboard pattern.

It was then that the true numbers came into focus. Or at least half of them.

Even Erick did not believe that all of those blue dots were real targets. He was soon proven right. Blue dots appeared where there were no Reachers.

And so, Erick dropped down to half-max resolution, with maps placed two thousand kilometers away from each other. There was no interference then, and the blue dots organized themselves in a much nicer way. More intelligible. But also…

More terrifying.

Reorganization and reevaluating did not take long; maybe twenty minutes. And all the teams were out on targets anyway; there was no interruption to the actual Culling.

But the numbers had to be reevaluated.

The Elders were displeased.

Bloodwoo said, “My new estimate is 120,000 Moon Reachers.”

Koropo said, “The Prognosticators are telling me 100,000.”

Yura O’kabil said, “My own people are saying 150,000.”

Erick looked across a vast distance, briefly, at the active maps in the 30 million square kilometers nearest Treehome. Each one counted thousands upon thousands of Moon Reachers. Erick dropped an Ophiel close to one of the unassigned targets.

That blue dot was a place of filth and rot, where Moon Reachers basked in the sun, and a pair of Reacher children played with the corpses of a man and a deer, ramming the deer’s horns into the dead man’s chest.

He almost called everything off, right then and there.

It was horrible, sure, but it was also ‘child’ playing with a ‘toy’, too.

And then he realized that he was having a stupid thought. He banished all ideas that the Moon Reachers were ‘people’. He focused on the job. He did what he needed to do. He came back to himself. He found his throat rather dry, as he spoke to the gathered Elders, “We’re going to need more teams.”

Jane mumbled to herself, “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

Erick would have laughed in any other scenario. But not right now. He just… couldn’t. So he forced himself to smile, and to think of all the horrible things that Moon Reachers did every single year to every single person they got their hands on.

And as the teams went into their second missions, their thirds, and their fourths, he saw what Koropo had spoken of; he saw Moon Reachers playing at being people. He saw Reachers who were awake, who saw their deaths approaching and laughed and tried to pluck off arms. He saw rings from dozens of victims stuck on long, silver fingers. He saw adventurers, mages, people from all walks of life, go up against those silver furred monsters, and he saw them win, and then he saw them happy beyond belief.

As people returned, taking breaks or whatnot, someone spoke of how they lost their mother to Reachers, and that they were grateful to belong to this historic event. Another person spoke of how they lost their brother. Another spoke of a dead sister. Another spoke of a long-dead father, and a son. Another spoke of a lost tribe. Many spoke of lost tribes.

Many spoke of how much safer the Forest would be.

Everyone was happy, and Moon Reachers died.

Erick was happy to help, too. He was happy to be there. He was happy.

He hoped no one would ever ask him if he was actually happy. For he would have to lie.

… He really shouldn’t have a problem with what they were doing. He got mad at himself. So what if the monsters looked like people? Big fucking deal! Looking like people was obviously a tactic engineered by the people who made the Moon Reachers in order for those Moon Reachers to produce more victims! Not a single one of the monsters here, or anywhere else, were not manufactured by someone! Every single one of them was created in order to produce the most harm!

And it was working!

Erick was harming himself by constantly seeing a touch of sapience, or at least sentience, in every single monster out there. Did some of those monsters deserve such compassion? Sure! Maybe!

But big fucking deal!

And now Erick was making himself furious, watching Moon Reachers act like people.

How dare Melemizargo for allowing these things to exist?! How dare the people of Brightwater for creating them! For making something with the sole purpose to harm others!

Koropo updated the numbers after the first hour.

He spoke to the gathered Elders.

“New estimates of total Moon Reachers have now reached 230,000. In addition to the new numbers revealing a problem none of us ever suspected, we are learning a few new things about them that we never knew before. We thought they grouped in 5 to 6, but most groups are composed of 3 to 5 individuals with 2 to 3 juvenile Reachers in those groups. There are also a surprising number of lone hunters out there. Maybe 30%. Those lone hunters are giving our people a hard time, because not only is every single one of them awake and active and jumpy, but they also seem to display abnormally strong abilities. Each one of them is abnormally clean, too. We’re not sure what that’s about.

“In addition to that, there are the normal groups of 5 to 6 Reachers, as expected.

“Instead of needing 21,000 hunts for 120,000 Reachers, and each hunt taking about 15 minutes, which would put our 200 teams at 27 hours of work, or four days of seven hours of hunting per day.” Koropo said, “Our new numbers put us at 50,000 hunts. This is going to take seven days, at minimum. And that’s just for the Moon Reachers. Estimates for the Deathsoul Shrooms are still coming in, because every single one of those hunts is going to take a lot more care than the Reachers.” He added, “I request permission to gather more teams, or at least activate the Adventurer’s Guild and the Mage Guild.”

Peron, Yura, and Bloodwoo, thought for a moment.

Bloodwoo said, “Assaulting Reachers is a simple affair, but ending the Deathsoul Shrooms will be difficult. Miss Flamecrash is particularly adept at clearing targets. I put forth that we could look into hiring similarly adept Summoners for the second half of this task. Though I disagree on the need for activating more teams or the Guilds for this first hunt. We can just take more breaks with the forces we already have.”

“Hiring Summoners?” Yura frowned. “I have never seen a Summoner as adept as Archmage Flatt or Miss Flamecrash, and they aren’t even Classed Summoners. No. We will not be doing that. This must be a properly run hunt, and I will not abide the inclusion of people who are less than capable. We do not want a single casualty, and lowering our standards will cause that.”

Koropo asked, “Perhaps we should see about calling in the Summoners we have tagged? We do have some in our armies.”

Yura sarcastically said, “With less diplomatic words, I repeat: Are they, though?” She turned toward Kiri. “Seeing what we see now, it is a wonder that anyone I have ever known even qualified for ‘Summoner’, and it’s my understanding that young Flamecrash isn’t even Classed yet.”

Everyone turned toward Kiri. The young greenscale reclined on a [Scry]ing chair set up next to Erick’s [Scry]ing chair. She was a team unto herself, assigned to the tougher targets. Each one took her about 3 minutes. She was mowing down Reachers as fast as her handlers could guide her to her targets. Erick suspected that she would not stop even when everyone else stopped for the day, for she could do what she was doing from anywhere.

Erick was not hunting targets, himself, because he had a larger obligation.

Yura turned back toward the small gathering, saying, “If there is a reprisal from the Forest, then our mages, archmages, and even our ‘lesser’ Summoners will have their mana occupied with defending Treehome. We will not be using them for the Reacher threat. We will consider using ‘only mages’ for the Shroom threat, though. When we get to those, we can switch the warriors we have out there back to the defense of Treehome. That, I will approve.”

Koropo breathed in, and said nothing.

“We are doing enough.” Peron said, “Continue as ordered and planned.”

Koropo looked to Bloodwoo.

Bloodwoo said, “I have nothing to add; I agree with my fellow Elders.”

“The problem with that is that someone is going to mess up. We have a harder schedule ahead of us than originally thought, and I would like to see this done as bloodlessly as possible.” Koropo said to the Elders, “In my professional opinion, we could use some assistance. Have you considered my request for aid from the Headmaster? He has offered—”

Yura immediately said, “Heard and denied, Warchief. He asks for too much, for we all know there are dragons out there in the green. I will not accept the outcome of him accidentally hearing of other dragons out there, and, gods forbid, should he actually meet one. No. We can do this ourselves. It will just take longer than we thought.”

Bloodwoo said, “Proceed as planned. Take more breaks.” He turned toward Erick. “Can you Image for the Deathsoul Shrooms, again? I would like to see that problem on a larger Imaging. I have a ticking feeling that we are woefully underestimating that task, as well.”

Erick had a strange thought pop into his head. He knew of another summoner like himself, who might actually have become a Classed Summoner since the last time he spoke to her. Erick would talk to her when the next break began, but for now, he said, “Of course, Bloodwoo.”

Koropo said, “At the next break.”

“Agreed.” Bloodwoo said, “On the next break.”

- - - -

Hours passed. A fraction of a fraction of the Moon Reachers of the Forest of Glaquin met their end.

More would follow.

But for now, a thousand orcols, both warrior and mage alike, sat around the mountainside, on break. Refreshments were served because it was the comfortable thing to do, and though no one was truly tired, this was a marathon, not a sprint. Breaks were required.

Some laughed at their hunts. Some rejoiced at the novelty of ‘taking breaks’. Some reviewed the new numbers, and balked, but others doubled down on finally being able to eradicate an existential threat from the Forest. Some did not want to waste the mana to come back to the Red Henge; they would wait out their break in the Forest. Erick offered those groups an Ophiel for transport but few took him up on that offer. They’d wait out there till it was time to ‘port to the next target.

While all that was happening, Erick also spoke to someone he hadn’t spoken to in a long while.

‘Hello, Sizzi!’ Erick sent, ‘Are you busy?’

Sizzi hadn’t picked up right away, but she responded quickly enough, sending, ‘Archmage Flatt! Hello. I am not that busy at the moment. To what do I owe the honor?’

Erick smiled at the woman’s voice. He was pretty sure that Sizzi’s mother, Guildmaster Zago, was probably right beside her, telling her to be polite. He had told Sizzi to call him ‘Erick’ last time they spoke, for sure, so why call him ‘Archmage’? Maybe Sirocco was listening in?

‘I have a proposal for you.’ Erick sent, ‘We’re clearing out the Moon Reachers and Deathsoul Shrooms from the Forest of Glaquin. I was wondering if you would be able to assist. The job is looking a lot larger than anyone suspected, and if your summons are up for the task, we could use you. I don’t know how much they’d be willing to pay you, but the task would certainly go easier with more summons as good as Ophiel. I also haven’t cleared this with them, and they seem reluctant to accept any professional outside help. But your help would be appreciated, I’m sure, if they actually allow such a thing.’

There was a pause. That pause went on for a while.

Erick looked over to the [Viewing Screen]s one platform over, where Bloodwoo, Koropo, and a few unmet Elders all went over the images of the maps Erick had adjusted; they now showed Deathsoul Shroom markers. Those white maps were rather blue. No one liked what they saw.

Sizzi’s voice came back, ‘Ah. Yes. Uh. Well. Yes.’

Another pause.

Erick sent, ‘If you—’

‘How many— Sorry. Go ahead?’

‘What were you saying, Sizzi?’

‘Uh… Well. I can do this. How big is the job?’ She paused, then, with much enthusiasm, immediately sent,‘I’m sorry! I was just in the middle of— It doesn’t matter. This task you have would mean a lot to a lot of people, wouldn’t it. Yes. I want to be involved. My mother wishes to come to Treehome as well, to participate. She won’t be able to remain, but she wishes to be there for a little while.’

Erick smirked.‘Good to hear. I’m sure we can find places for both of you, but the current time table has us at a minimum of 15 days of clearing our these two problem monsters from the Forest, and maybe more than that. What sort of spells can you operate through your summons? Have you actually Classed-up, yet?’

‘I just got [Grand Lightning] but I have been comfortable with my ability to take out most targets at range for a while. I have never tackled a Deathsoul Shroom… But that shouldn’t be a problem? I’ve read about those. And yes, I have Classed into Summoner.’ With a happy voice, Sizzi said, ‘All because of you, Archmage Flatt. So for you, I would do this free of charge. But Treehome will need to pay.’

Erick laughed. ‘I’m sure you’re worth it! After they’ve seen what Kiri and I can do with our summons, they’re looking to expand their Summoning program. Don’t be caught blindsided when they try to poach you from Spur.’

‘Ha! Little chance of that happening. My mother would disown me.’

‘Do you need me to [Teleport] you and your mother up here? Or would you prefer to find your own way?’ Erick rapidly added, ‘It might be easier if I brought you here and introduced you, actually.’

Pause.

She was probably speaking to her mother about plans and timing.

‘Yes. We will accept your help getting there. Just… Give us an hour?’

‘I’m sure that will be fine. Ophiel will come to you, then. See you soon.’

‘See you soon!’

Erick ended the call.

He went over to the gathered Elders and Koropo. Koropo saw him coming, and then so did everyone else. The crowd parted just a bit, allowing him entry into the gathering.

Erick asked, “What’s the new Shroom estimate?”

Koropo said, “Somewhere between 15,000 to 17,000 major Deathsoul Shroom hunts.”

Many Elders grumbled at that, and Erick sighed a bit.

Koropo said, “Some of the targets require slashing and burning for a dozen kilometers in every direction. Others would be smaller, and only slightly less dangerous. We estimate it would take a person of your power half an hour per large infestation. If you were working alone, according to the math, it would take you, personally, an entire year of hunting and burning—” A few grumbles from the audience caused Koropo to speak louder, over the group of gathered Elders, “For anyone with less than a well-made Super Large Area spell of incineration or other burning or decay magic, we’re looking at—” He breathed in. He let it out there, “10 hours per Adult. 7000 days of clearing—”

A few Elders almost spoke up, objecting.

“—or double that since we won’t burn at night—”

Most everyone groaned at that.

“— I know, I know! It’s not what you want to hear.” Koropo continued, “But a full day per adult is historically accurate, and also the best case scenario. No one expected this many Adult Deathsoul Shrooms. This Imaging has revealed the insides of trees as Adults, the insides of some wyrms as Adults. This Imaging has revealed entire new life cycles that we never knew. And so, the problem is larger than we ever knew. If we do this wrong, we risk spreading the shrooms, which is why we will do this right the first time.”

Elder Erod from Icebrand said, “The Shrooms are deadly, yes, but if we kill 99% of every infestation, then that should be enough, right?”

Elder Juli from Firebrand said, “The Forest eats small lives all the time, and tiny Shroom colonies would be no different.”

There were many objections to that. No one wanted a half-assed Culling.

But Bloodwoo objected the loudest, saying, “We will do this right. Failure will not be our goal.”

Erick spoke up, “No one expected it to be easy, did they?”

An Elder from Steel-Branch, Elder Moro, said, “We expected that finding them would be the hard part. Usually, you only run into these damned things when you’re trying to run from something else and you get deathly unlucky. We did not expect the problem to be this large.” He complained to Koropo, “Your numbers cannot be accurate.”

Koropo glared at Elder Moro, then he blinked, breathed, and broke off his harsh look.

“Everyone always underestimates the time it takes to make something good,” said Elder Fara Home, diplomatically.

Chieftain Ro-Uki Rottundra, said, “Yet another reason to just melt it all down. We can even throw up large stone walls as breaks—”

Yura said, “That plan is still with the Prognosticators. Speak no more of that plan. It is tiring.”

Before anyone else could speak up—

Erick said, “Anyway! I might have another good Summoner coming, if you want them. They helped me to make my Ophiel, and I helped them to make their own summons. They’re a proper Summoner, too. Classed, and everything. I suspect she will be much better at clearing out targets than even my apprentice, Kiri. If you want her?” He added, “You’re going to have to pay her, too, of course. I don’t know what she’ll charge.”

Everyone looked down at Erick.

Yura was the first to speak. “Not an agent of the Headmaster, I hope?”

“Or a shadeling!” Peron said.

A few Elders nodded at that.

“Nope; neither of those.” Erick said, “She’s the daughter of the Mage Guildmaster of Spur. Sizzi Zago.”

Yura spoke first, “I have no objection.”

With a gleam in his eye, Bloodwoo said, “Nosier happily accepts. Yes. Bring her in.”

Elder Moro asked, “How good is she?”

“We’ll find out together.” Erick said, “But she has [Grand Lightning], so she should be fine.”

Erick didn’t know what [Grand Lightning] was, exactly, but he could guess it was something like [Grand Fireball], and thus suitably impressive.

Chieftain Ro-Uki Rottundra asked, “Is she as good as your Miss Flamecrash?” He looked to Koropo. “Give me some numbers based on that estimate.”

“[Grand Lightning] is a fine spell.” Bloodwoo said, “This Summoner’s assistance in clearing the adults would be enough to let us kill the lesser infestations much more safely.”

Peron frowned. A few other Elders frowned. But none of them said anything. They all knew how dangerous a Deathsoul Shroom could be.

Erick said, “I’m pretty sure Sizzi has at least 20 summons, too. I have 10. Kiri has 10. I am not comfortable doing this with just us three, but if it’s just the adults, then we can probably do that. Juvenile cleanup would take the most time… Maybe?” He added, “But anyway: No offense meant, Koropo, but I think you’ve vastly overestimated how long it will take to kill an Adult. For me, anyway.”

What he didn’t say, was that it would likely be the work of a minute to find the thing, and then a moment to cast his new [Vivid Gloom Ooze]. Boom boom; dead shroom!

Some Elders seemed to reassess Erick, but most looked to Koropo for the numbers.

Koropo said, “If she’s as good at Miss Flamecrash… Who I think can tackle a Deathsoul Shroom Adult just fine for an estimate on par with Archmage Flatt’s timetable, which I am now moving to 10 minutes per infestation… This means we’re looking at cutting the task down to a fortieth of what it was before. But maybe only go with 35, for each caster will only have some of their summons out there. 17,000 hunts, which means… 170,000 minutes, cut by 35, means 4900 minutes per summon, cut by 60, means 80 hours per summon, means three and a half days for each summon out there, to end every Adult Deathsoul Shroom in the Forest.” He looked to Erick. “Can you do that? Does that sound reasonable?”

Everyone looked to Erick.

Erick said, “I’m not running 24 hours a day. None of us are. But we can certainly do a lot from the comfort of a hotel room.”

Every Elder, Chieftain, soldier, and [Viewing Screen] clerk within earshot, seemed to brighten up a bit. A tension in the air seemed to relax. A lot of people were listening in on the conversation, it seemed.

Koropo said, “I know it wasn’t what we originally planned on, but this is good.”

Yura said, “We will have to see about increasing your pay.”

A few laughed at that.

Erick smiled, saying, “But first, the Reachers.”

“Yes; the Moon Reachers.” Bloodwoo said, “They are a much more manageable problem.”

Another Elder said, “Still gonna take days.”

“And days and days.” Another Elder said, “But it will be done, and then the only Reacher you’ll see would be stuffed, in a museum.”

Elder Juli Firebrand said, “Once we cull most of them from this world, all the stragglers would have a hard time finding each other, so even if we got 99% of them, then the rest would die out in a generation.”

“And good riddance!”

As Elders and Chieftains began to separate, to walk their own ways, to talk to their own people, Koropo asked Erick to switch the maps back to the Moon Reachers. Erick obliged.

- - - -

An Ophiel descended to a tower of the Mage Guild of Spur. He stepped inside, allowing Erick to greet his two passengers, then wrap them in light. After several quick lightsteps, Sizzi and Sirocco Zago stood before Erick, Koropo, and Bloodwoo, upon a platform of the Red Henge.

The two of them looked much as Erick remembered. Both mother and daughter were pale violet incani with upturned horns and white hair. Sirocco was in her 60s, but Sizzi was somewhere around 30. Both could easily pass for noble women, considering that their rose-red dresses were surely designed to impress. The only ornaments they wore were silver jewelry, in Sirocco’s case, and a gold bracelet with bright purple gems for Sizzi.

The band was one of Sizzi’s summons; made with [Stoneshape], if Erick recalled correctly. Her other summon was upon her shoulder; a tiny, magenta bunny. That bunny flopped her ears and wiggled her nose, as she looked upon Erick. It had been a trivial thing to include both extra ‘bodies’ in Ophiel’s lightstep trip to the Red Henge, but Sizzi would need to resummon the rest to this location, now that she was here.

Erick blinked, and one bunny became two. Sizzi was already resummoning them.

Both of the women looked to Erick, but then looked up, and up, to regard Bloodwoo. The man was rather tall. Erick barely came up to his thigh.

Erick smiled, saying, “Hello, Sirocco. Sizzi. I’m glad you two could make it on such short notice.” He gestured to Bloodwoo, saying, “Chieftain Bloodwoo Nosier of Arbor Nosier.” He gestured to Koropo. “Warchief Koropo Ikabobbi of Arbor Ikabobbi.” He gestured to the newcomers, saying, “Sirocco Zago and Sizzi Zago; Guildmaster of Spur’s Mage Guild and her Summoner daughter.”

Sizzi gave a small curtsy. Sirocco did not.

Koropo nodded in greeting.

Bloodwoo regarded Sirocco, saying, “Welcome to the Grand Hunt of all Moon Reachers and Deathsoul Shrooms on Glaquin. I have heard some interesting information, but is your daughter capable of what I have heard?”

Sirocco did not miss a beat, saying, “She is more than up for the challenge and the honor of participating in your Grand Hunt. Just last week, her Summons ventured into Ar’Kendrithyst and slew dozens of high-level monsters. She has Classed into Summoner, and I have no doubt she will be a power unto herself in a short time.” Sirocco said, “She merely needs a good foothold upon history to become that power.”

Bloodwoo said, “We shall grant her this opportunity after a successful display.” He turned to Sizzi, saying, “Your level and the box for your summon.”

They had never asked Erick for that, nor had they asked Kiri for hers. But Sizzi did not rank that high; not yet, anyway. Sirocco held one hand on top of her other, as she turned to her daughter, and nodded, fractionally; she had obviously anticipated this, and had likely told her daughter what to expect.

Sizzi curtsied again, then held up a blue box. Erick had already seen her summon’s spell once, but he saw it again, now. It looked almost exactly like Ophiel’s.

--

Summon Rokkel, medium range, 1104 mana + Variable.

Summon an Rokkel to do your bidding. Maximum 10 Rokkel permitted.

Rokkel persist until killed or dismissed.

All Rokkel are the same creature; to know one is to know them all.

All Rokkel naturally have and regenerate mana based on your own mana and mana regeneration, which they may use to cast the spells that you imbue them with, at your own command or at their own discretion. Comes summoned and proficient with [Lightshape], [Telepathy], and [Scry].

All Rokkel are able to alter their size and shape.

Imbue your Rokkel with new spells, wherever they are. Variable

See through the eyes of your Rokkel. Variable

Communicate telepathically with your Rokkel. Variable

--

Bloodwoo read the box. His eyes went slightly wider when he was done. “I was informed you had multiple summons?” His eyes flicked from the bunny on Sizzi’s shoulder to the bracelet on her arm. “This is just one box, though.”

Sizzi said, “Thank you for this opportunity, Chieftain Bloodwoo, but if you would allow this beginner mage some of her own secrets, the box for Rokkel and Grahla are mostly the same.”

“Do you have much experience with ranged-killing?” Bloodwoo glanced to Sirocco, saying, “I have heard of your mother’s capabilities for [Scry]ing. I imagine that if you learned some of her skills in addition to your unusually well-made summons, then you truly will become a force to be reckoned with in the future. Or even right now.”

“I have learned much of what is taught in my mother’s Guildhouse and have been running myself ragged assisting with the Army of Spur in our pacification of Ar’Kendrithyst. Or at least the management of the horrors coming out of there every day, now that the Shades are gone.”

Erick stood straighter. Ah. Maybe Sizzi had been really busy? He looked to Sirocco, and she looked at him, but said nothing.

Bloodwoo nodded, seemingly satisfied. He said, “We’ll try not to keep you too long. But it might be a month.”

Sizzi nodded, saying, “I am sure that with Archmage Flatt, myself, your own people, and the might of Treehome backing us all, we can rid the Forest of Glaquin of at least a few major threats. It benefits us to assist with this, for now that the Shades are gone, we might look into corralling the Crystal Mimics and bringing back part of that green land, too. But if the Forest still exists as it does, then that is just asking for us to turn Glaquin into another Nergal, or gods forbid, Quintlan.” She said, “We are thinking that we would like your assistance with this when the time comes.”

Sirocco spoke up, “There is also the matter of payment.”

Bloodwoo regarded Sizzi; he ignored Sirocco. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Spur.” Sizzi said, “And the Wasteland Kingdoms.”

Bloodwoo said, “Hmm.”

Erick frowned. He wanted to hum his disapproval, too, but after a moment he put a happy face back on, and said, “A dream for another day. How far is the Wasteland thinking of expanding?”

Sirocco spoke up, “The Magisterium is considering expanding all the way up and around Candlepoint.”

Erick could not stop his face from doing a turn. Perhaps his eyes went wide? He wasn’t quite sure.

Sirocco spoke into the sudden silence all around them, “Now that the Shades are gone, all that fresh water is out there, and we have a friendly face as the Archmage in charge of that land, the people of the Wasteland are eager to establish new lands past the Wall. We desire to open up trade routes with the new land of shadelings, and to restore the sandy land of the Crystal Forest back to its green self of a thousand years ago. Or at least one small part of it.” She added, “A test case for future expansions, at the very least.”

Erick’s face surely did another weird thing.

Sizzi and Sirocco both glanced his way, before looking back up at Bloodwoo.

Bloodwoo turned slightly, toward Erick. “Were you aware they were going after your city?”

“That is the furthest perspective of the truth as anyone could be.” Sirocco, politely, said, “We merely see the benefit of such an action; of getting close to our newest neighbor. A bridging of nations, both old and newly formed.”

Sizzi, in what was likely a prearranged signal, ended further discussion by speaking up, “I am here to help Treehome and all citizens of this world, and I would like to get to that. Is there a place I could be, Chieftain Bloodwoo?”

Bloodwoo gestured to Koropo. “Warchief Koropo can fit you into the working. Light duty for now, or whatever he decides. Much of your main duty would come later when we assault the adult Deathsoul Shrooms.” He turned back to Sirocco. “Guildmaster Zago. I ask you to join me for a talk, but first I would know your allegiance. Do you work for Spur, or for the Wasteland? Who am I dealing with, here?”

“I work for the good of Spur, but I know the location of my homeland and my ancestors.” Sirocco asked, “Treehome might distance itself from these affairs, but you have heard that the humans have released a Converter Angel against us, have you not? Archmage Flatt is even honor-bound to fight the thing, which should come as no secret.”

Bloodwoo frowned. “Let us talk somewhere else.”

Sirocco asked, “Will you be joining us, Erick?”

“No thank you. I am needed here.” He wasn’t exactly mad, but he did need to think for a minute, or a few hours. If he went with Sirocco and Bloodwoo he would surely blow up at them, and besides that, he was needed here; Erick had not lied. Every five minutes something was happening that required the adjustment of a map, the elimination of a particular threat, or the rescue of a team, though, thankfully, that last one had only happened once, so far. He said to Sirocco, “Thanks for coming, and for informing me of the new state of the world.”

Sirocco said, “It’s nothing sinister, Erick. Baroness Xelxex has sent some envoys to Candlepoint and she liked what they showed her. Our Stone Archmage, Peatrice Shallowhammer, has fully recovered, too, so the capability of us changing the landscape of the Crystal Forest has gone up a notch. Ah. And you should know, now: The reason she and Orenza were injured last time you interacted with us, when you were clearing out those mimics? That was the Converter Angel. The Wasteland has been fending off strikes from various unconnected foes for the last few months, but it is only now, with Caizoa and the Black Star, that we have managed to root out those infections and see those separated incidents for the larger scheme that they were.”

Erick felt a profound gulf of dispassion swallow him, as he said, “I really hope the Wasteland doesn’t bring the Quiet War to Candlepoint. I will not abide that, Sirocco.”

With a perfectly political smile, Sirocco said, “We would never do such a thing, Erick.”

Bloodwoo interjected, “Yes they would. They will drag you down if you let them, Erick.”

Sirocco conceded, “We cannot control what the Republic does, but we have obligations to respond.”

Bloodwoo hummed, then said, “Let us be off to Nosier, then, Guildmaster. I’m sure you can’t stay for very long.” He regarded Sizzi, saying, “Koropo is empowered to talk of gold, after he sees you in action.” He nodded to Koropo.

Koropo gestured away, saying, “This way, miss.”

Sizzi curtsied again, then followed the Warchief.

Sirocco asked Bloodwoo, “A [Teleport]?”

Bloodwoo held out a hand. “Of course.”

Hand in hand, the Chieftain and the Guildmaster vanished in a blip of green light.

Erick remained. It had all happened so fast. The Wasteland wanted Candlepoint, eh?

Was that a good thing?

He looked up at the blue, blue sky, and at the ribbons of red that flowed through the manasphere, curling around floating red crystals like they were whirlpools. And then Poi, who stood behind him this whole time.

Poi shrugged.

Erick nodded. He got back to work. Maps needed adjusting. Monsters needed killing.

The sun moved across the sky.

And Erick got to see Sizzi in action.

- - - -

Grass grew to the sides of a game trail carved into the Forest floor, while trees blocked out almost all light from above. Something magenta flashed inside the grass. Tall ears poked from the green, followed by a twitching nose and beady eyes.

The bunny looked up.

Some of the trees were not like the others. Instead of brown bark with green moss and vining leaves covering them, they were silver shaggy things, topped with shaggy silver pillows each the size of a mattress.

One of the mattresses moved. It tilted a bit, to look down. Tiny black eyes, like polished obsidian, blinked at the bright bunny below.

And then a tiny hand, covered in rings of tarnished silver and dirty gold, came down from that silver mattress, as that mattress smiled.

Teeth, like a shark’s, surrounded a hole of red flesh that quickly widened into something much too large for the monster to which it belonged. A biologist from Earth would have trouble putting together the bone structure of such a beast, but any knowledgeable person from Veird could tell you that the bones of a Moon Reacher were more suggestions and cartilage, than the solidness of any femur or ulna. Moon Reachers were basically stomachs attached to rubber arms, and made all the more horrific for it, for the only way they could support their own bodies was through prodigious Strength. The only way they could maintain their health, for all the parasites and bugs crawling on their skin, was through a Vitality of the same.

With some artistic license taken, the Moon Reacher did what it was named after. It seemed to reach from the moon, or at least a very high space, to pluck at the bunny down below.

The bunny responded with lightning.

A [Grand Lightning].

A tempest unsealed! A storm brought down to land! Magenta cables of thick, coruscating power struck from that tiny magenta bunny, running up the length of the arm reaching for it, then continuing on to every other target in sight. Five Moon Reachers, none of them that close to each other and only one of them briefly aware of their death before it happened, each received a dose of shocking power that went back and forth several times in the blink of a single Script Second, connecting each monster to each other, frying, burning, electrocuting, and killing, while excess power continuously flashed out into the rest of the Forest, burning trees and incinerating green life.

The bunny’s job was done. Her mana was used up. The bunny seemed to sigh into the Forest as she turned into dissipated mana.

In other parts of the Forest, tiny not-slimes made of gold and amethyst eyes found their own targets. They too, discharged their [Grand Lightning], ending themselves in the process. They had just enough mana to get to their targets, and to kill their targets. Some of the more distant targets required multiple [Teleport]s to get there, and those bunnies had to wait to recharge, but that didn’t take too long.

Sizzi was a Scion of Focus with a pair of Erick’s Willpower and Focus rings on her fingers, after all.

And besides that! Those bunnies and gold-amethyst slimes came back at the rate of one every minute, for their creator was a Summoner and one of her Class Abilities let her summons come back on their own, depending on how many remained. Bunnies multiplied like… Well. Bunnies.

Slimes multiplied like cells dividing.

In addition to that Class Ability, another Class Ability Sizzi had was to double the number of summons by halving their mana and damage.

So.

This meant that, all around the Forest, 38 targets at a time (Sizzi kept one bunny and slime with her, of course), lightning loosed, and Moon Reachers died, for of course they died. [Grand Lightning], like [Grand Fireball], like many other ‘Grand’ type spells, was actually multiple [Lightning]s at the same time.

- - - -

Sizzi said, “Nine [Lightning]s, in my case, based around [Force Beam] with Mana Altering for Lightning and Chaining, with the duration shunted into more power for a minimally increased cost.” She popped out a blue box. “It’s the limit of my current ability, Warchief.”

--

Grand Lightning, instant, medium range, 2200 mana

Unleash a wild tempest of chaining lightning that deals 900 + 2x WIL for 5 seconds to all targets within range.

--

Erick looked at the blue box, then back to Sizzi. The spell was expensive! But it worked.

Sizzi must have noticed his look. She glanced to him, but spoke to Koropo, “It’s expensive, but thanks to the rings Archmage Flatt gifted Spur for the defense of the city, even with each summon halved in power, each Rokkel or Gharla has enough mana to get to one target, and then to take out that target.”

Koropo eyed the rings on Sizzi’s fingers, and there was a desire there, but he did not ask Erick for rings, and Erick did not offer.

Erick shifted the conversation, “Summoners are pretty good.”

Sizzi grinned. “This would not be possible without you, Archmage.”

“Or you, either,” Erick said, for Sizzi had helped him to make Ophiel in the first place.

Koropo sighed, then smiled wide, showing off his lower fangs, as he said, “Ah! This is wonderful. We really need to train some good Summoners.” He looked to Erick. “We’re offering a million gold for whatever method allowed this new breed to flourish. I want rings, too. Name your price.”

Erick suddenly balked. “What? No.” And then he seemed to see a glimpse of a terrible future, and every good thing he saw before him took on a darker hue. Last he heard, Sizzi had accidentally given away his method for making Ophiel to her uncle, who ran off to the Magisterium of the Wasteland and tried to give it to them, but as far as Erick knew, nothing came of that, thank the gods! Well, he wasn’t going to take a second chance and let this method go to Treehome, either. And besides that— He rapidly asked, “You don’t consider this a war crime waiting to happen? That’s what I was worried for, at first. But if it’s just me, Kiri, and Sizzi, then that’s fine! But no more!” He doubled down. “No more. Not from me.” He looked to Sizzi. “No.” He added, “No rings either. Sorry. Uh. No.”

The incani woman nodded.

“I will ask after the rings some other time, and yes, you are right about these summons being warcrimes waiting to happen.” Koropo said, “But all archmages are all warcrimes waiting to happen. It changes nothing that you have summons like you have. But Miss Zago here? And Miss Flamecrash? These are new magics that would save countless lives. We would obviously need to implement some failsafes, like perhaps having practitioners get their mind blanked by a Mind Mage after a successful creation… But that is just a detail of security. There are many achievements to your name, Erick, but personally, this summoning achievement is the one where I see the most opportunity for good.”

“Still. No.” Erick said, “I am glad no one has been able to replicate this success.”

Koropo sighed, small. The Warchief suddenly waved off, saying, “Onto the job! We’re glad to have you here, Sizzi Zago. My people will keep you in the loop and active.”

Sizzi curtsied. “Though I will not be spilling Archmage Flatt’s secrets, I will be paid for my efforts on the Reachers and the Shrooms, Warchief.”

Koropo laughed. “Aye! Wouldn’t have it any other way. Our people come through and clean up the messes, but if anything should happen to not be there during that clean up, then that’s fine. Don’t get too greedy, though. This Culling is expensive. Other than any choice of treasures you might find, we’re offering 10% of whatever you kill in rads and 10% of your portion of the day’s kills in treasure, to be divided at the end of every day. It’s the same offer we’ve given everyone. The only limit to how much you make is how fast and how many Moon Reachers you can eliminate.”

Sizzi said, “Very well. I accept this standard offer.”

“Good.” Koropo said, “You’ll go far, Miss Zago.”

“I intend to.”

Koropo chuckled as he walked away to deal with a clerk who had been waiting for him.

Erick turned to Sizzi. “That’s some nice Summoner Class you have. I didn’t expect doubled summons and automatic resummoning. What else is there?”

Sizzi smiled; a genuine expression. “A lot I wished I could have taken, but I settled for Doubled Mana and Regen and a few other basic Abilities. I couldn’t have done this without you, Erick. Thank you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, either. And Koropo’s right, you know.” Erick said, “You’ll go far. I hope you make good choices, but then again, I hope that for everyone.”

Sizzi turned serious. She bowed. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

Erick would have spoken more with her, but Koropo wasn’t the only one with a clerk waiting to speak with them. Sizzi also had some people waiting to get her into the system. He asked her, “We’ll do dinner, perhaps? You and your mother and all of us from Spur?”

“I would be delighted, and I’m sure my mother would be as well.”

“And now for work.” He turned to the clerk assigned to him, asking, “What’s up?”

“Just some adjustments to map 14, 17, and 19, Archmage.”

“Around the Fallen Hills?”

“Correct. We need…”

- - - -

The day came and went.

New numbers were tallied.

There would be five more days of this, or somewhere around there, and then…

Every single Moon Reacher in the Forest of Glaquin would be dead and gone.

Sirocco spoke over her glass of wine, “But there are still more Moon Reachers in the world, and even on Glaquin. They don’t like the mountains for all the Stone Elementals roaming that land, but they do still exist in the Wyrmridge, the Greyhorn, and everywhere else.”

Erick cut into his steak, saying, “There was talk about that today. Treehome wants to assist with Imaging and culling all throughout the mountains around the Crystal Forest.”

Dinner was served in a private room to the west of the hotel under Arbor O’kabil, and it had been served fast. Kiri, Sizzi, and Jane all sat next to each other. Poi and Teressa sat on the other side of the table.

Erick and Sirocco sat on opposite ends.

After a few small words between everyone, and a few small pleasantries, here they were. In a certain sort of way it was nice to see Sirocco again, but so far Erick was still tense, and could not put out of his mind that the Wasteland wanted to expand around Candlepoint, like some amoeba swallowing a morsel. Sirocco didn’t seem to want to approach that topic yet, and neither did anyone else at their table, but that tension held in the air, for sure.

Sirocco asked, “If they approach the Wasteland for assistance or permission, then we will agree to assist. Moon Reachers are extraordinarily rare in the Greyhorns, but they do show from time to time. The only problem with getting rid of all of them in all the mountains would be the Greensoil Republic. Last I heard, that Converter Angel is in the Mondariskas, to the west of the Republic.”

“… I have half a mind to just get that over with.” Erick asked, “Is Caizoa ready?”

“She’s getting there.” Sirocco said, “And the Angel isn’t always over in those mountains, anyway. She moves around a lot. A lot faster than we thought possible. We think she has a [Gate].”

“You can just buy the Spell for 10 points, if you can get that far. And that’s concerning, simply due to the tactics required to take down such a target.” Erick said, “But what concerns me more is that you are speaking as though you are a member of the Kingdoms, and not a pillar of Spur.”

Silence, save for the scratching, and then sudden stopping, of cutlery on plates.

“In the face of such danger all incani must band together, for we die if we do not.” Sirocco said, “Even a pillar of Spur is a target.” She continued, “Did you know that I was scheduled to die, just seven days ago? It is true. An assassination attempt was scheduled to go off in the middle of the Triumph of Light, but then you happened with the Cleansing of the Shades, and Caizoa came out of there with the Black Star and upset the Angel’s plans in the Wasteland, and all those monsters came out of there, and we had to adjust every single one of our security protocols— It was this adjustment of protocols that saved my life.”

Erick had dropped his fork. He didn’t even know he had dropped it until Sirocco had paused her terrifying words.

Sirocco said, “Silverite authorized a few special scanning magics which we installed in a few discreet locations. These scanners caught the intruding Angel-touched mere minutes before they attacked. I was saved. Eleven people were killed in the crossfire.”

“… I am sorry, Sirocco.”

“For what?” Sirocco asked, flippantly. “Don’t mistake me, Erick. I’m not mad at you. You have a full schedule. You are dealing with matters that affect the world over and it’s not like this was my first time as a target of assassination; No. Frontier has tried to murder me too many times since I became the Guildmaster of Spur. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the Angels. I’m mad at the humans of this world. I have had to deal with this Quiet War my whole life. It is exhausting.” She asked, “Aren’t you mad at the Republic, too? They’ve withheld that Quest reward for killing the Daydroppers for months upon months! They refuse to execute that woman in their custody, and thus they screw you out of those points that are rightfully yours.”

Erick leveled a glare across the table. “I will not fault them for not executing a woman who I believe was forced into working on the Daydropper.”

“That is all well and good, but they refuse to execute her because it would give you more power.”

Erick balked. “No. That cannot be right.”

“It’s true.” Sirocco said, “The Angels of this world have a stranglehold upon their progeny. The Angels are all the same. They whisper secrets into the ears of the humans. They coordinate across the globe. In the beginning, they might not have executed that Daydropper woman due to her forced inclusion in the creation of the Daydropper, but the reason the Republic doesn’t do it now, is, in part, due to the fact that such an action would give you power. And you’re already positioned to go against their greatest current threat in this world: the Republic’s Converter Angel.” She asked, “Here’s a hypothetical, and please tell me true: You have two invites. One to see the Kingdoms, the other to see the Republic. Both are lavish, respectable invitations. Do you visit either? Do you go, but in secret?”

Erick said, “I would visit both.”

Sirocco pulled out a sealed letter from her robes and flipped it across the table, to land in front of Erick. It was laden with wax in several colors, with several seals, some done up with ribbons. She said, “Here is an invitation to visit the Wasteland, signed by King Rashi, Queen Tiz, and Magister Aerie Iordex. There are also lesser signatures from a few barons and baronesses. Baroness Pirazel Xelxex is on there.” She sat down, saying, “We would not dream of interrupting what you are doing here, with the Culling of the Forest, but we do offer you this opportunity. Please visit whenever. And please do not visit the Republic until the Angel is gone. For your own safety. I know you say you would visit both, but I cannot believe that you would actually do such a thing. Those humans will either kill you or control you the second you show yourself over there.”

Erick stared at the letter. He said, “I feel like you have blindsided me over and over again today, Sirocco.”

“I have been neither polite, nor gentle; this is true. Apologies for that.” Sirocco said, “But I was almost assassinated a few days ago, monsters keep pouring out of Ar’Kendrithyst, the Brightwater has turned half of the Dead City into a warzone, and my secretary— But more like my predecessor. Anhelia. You know her. Every single Mage Guildmaster before me has relied on her for so much, and I am no different. She has all the real power in the Mage Guild of Spur— But Anhelia has gone off the abyssal shelf! Banded together a dozen wrought, she did, and now she assaults the Dead City every day, attempting to carve out a bit more of it into livable wrought territory. Silverite is fighting with her, you know. Not physically, though it did almost come to blows right in the middle of the Guildhall.”

“No. I did not know.” Erick said, “Silverite told me to stay away.”

Sirocco sighed. “Probably for the best.” She said, “Apologies. It’s been… It’s been a week. I am blowing some incidents out of proportion. I was almost assassinated. That definitely almost happened. But… On the bright side —ha!— the Brightwater isn’t much of a warzone.” She sipped her wine.

Tense moments passed.

Erick ate his steak.

Everyone ate, or drank. Sirocco ordered a second bottle of wine.

No one said a word.

Suddenly, Erick could not stand the silence. He spoke, “So! Sizzi—”

Sizzi tried not to choke on a slice of whiteroot. Kiri patted her on the back.

Erick continued, “How was your day of summoning?”

“It went well, Erick.” Sizzi said, “They eventually offered me 1.6 million gold to give them your method, but I turned them down, of course.”

Erick sighed, and smiled, and considered secrets, then asked, “What is the major difference in our summons versus all the rest? It’s just the mana they are summoned with, isn’t it?”

“That is it, entirely. Your method produces summons that come summoned with full mana.” Sizzi said, “Standard summons do not have that, and they cannot regenerate their own mana. You have to feed them mana to get them to do anything at all. At their most crude level of use, they are spell platforms from which to prepare contingency magics and for attacking from a separate angle. Before you came along, the best summoning magic I knew of could hold that mana for a rather long time; indefinitely, even.” She added, “Some Summoners could even artificially inflate their mana pool by creating summons that did nothing but hold their mana for them, which they could then retrieve themselves at a later date. Though that is also a rare art, indeed.”

“Oh?” Erick said, “I never considered giving away mana and then taking it back. But that’s an interesting idea.” He added, “I’m still working on that [Melee Reflection] you once showed me. I think Jane is working on that, too.”

Jane gave a small, polite smile, as she said, “Still working on it; yes. Spell reflection was easy once I was shown the way.”

Sizzi asked Jane, “What’s your methodology for [Melee Reflection]?”

“Ah.” Jane said, “[Rebound], [Strike], [Personal Ward]. The usual.”

Kiri spoke up, “I’ve tried that one but never got much further than Jane.”

Sizzi said, “If you two would like, I could work with you on that...”

The conversation turned to magic and melee.

It was a better discussion than the one about Angels and obligations.

- - - -

After dinner, Erick met Sirocco on the balcony of his hotel room, while Sizzi moved into one of the empty rooms on the second floor. Sunset painted the sky orange and gold. He handed her a glass of wine; a refill for her own.

Sirocco took the glass, saying, “Thanks for inviting Sizzi to stay with you. I feel much better about leaving her.” She added, “I feel much better about her being out of Spur, too.”

“I’ll look after her.” He asked, “Did the assassins go after her, too?”

“No, and thank the Demon King for that! If she had been… I wouldn’t have been able to...” Sirocco looked away. “I blew up at you at dinner, and you did not deserve that. The Angel is not your fault, nor should anyone truly expect you to make it your responsibility; not when you’re already doing so much. It is up to us to put that thing into the Void, as it has always been.”

Erick sipped his wine.

Sirocco drank hers.

Erick asked, “Are you truly a part of Spur, Sirocco? Or are you just an arm of the Wasteland?”

“I know where I live, but I also know where I came from.” Sirocco said, “Don’t stop cleaning out the Forest. That is a noble goal almost as bright as culling Ar’Kendrithyst. I honestly feel bad about bringing up all this Quiet War shit around you, but you needed to know. You are still a valued citizen of Spur.”

Erick smirked, and tried a joke, “So I once heard that the Headmaster has said that we should just blow up both Hell and Celes and be done with the Quiet War, once and for all.”

Sirocco’s eyes went wide as she turned to Erick.

“… That was something of a poor joke, I see.” Erick said, “Sorry.”

Sirocco said, “If you want to blow up Celes, go ahead. I already have a plot of land waiting for me on Hell.”

Erick’s eyes went wide, this time.

And then Sirocco chuckled. “My joke was better, yes?”

“Can you actually buy land up there?”

“Oh, no. I see there are some missing cultural—” She waved a hand. “You have to enter into contracts with an Ancient House if you wish to live on the surface, and even then you’re bound to start your next life in the mires and the tunnels unless you have the power or prestige or ancestry to make it up there on top.” She added, “I have what it takes to make it up there on the top.”

“And that… Appeals to you? To live after death, but struggling the whole time?”

“Of course it does? Is this a weird concept to you?”

“… What happens to humans if they end up on Celes?”

“Ah. Well. About the same, actually. More regimented, though. The Angels of the Celestial Choir are soldiers, through and through. Perhaps, back before the Sundering, there might have been other factions to have been a part of the Celestial Heavens, but the only faction to survive the Sundering and the subsequent turmoil was one of war.”

Erick glanced out to the west, to the horizon. Hell was already in the sky, followed by the Silver Star, looming on the horizon. Without Meditation active, the moon was a simple pinkish sphere. But turning on his ability to see into the manasphere, Hell became a land of lush trees and oceans of mainly red, but also every other color under the sun.

He asked, “Why do the Angels and Demons fight? Surely there have been attempts at diplomacy over the many centuries since the Sundering. What’s going on there, exactly? Is it anything aside from hate? Any actual reason for war? Hate cannot sustain a war on this scale, can it? Or… if they’re immortal and warlike, then… that is rather sad.”

Sirocco gazed out west, alongside Erick. “Immortal, biased, and hateful Relevant Entities of the Script fuel the war through incentivizing Participation amounts. For others, the Quiet War is just a small part of the Forever war. For others, it’s a matter of honor and reprisal. There are thousands of smaller, more personal reasons, from every single combatant. Celes is a land of war preparedness, and that’s a major fault. If there are deeper reasons for the hostilities, I don’t really need to know them, for the only thing that matters to me is that they tried to kill me. They have been trying to kill me for a long time, Erick. It is like that for most incani.”

Eventually, Sirocco needed to go back, so she did.

- - - -

‘Hello, Erick,’ Caizoa sent.‘Late hour for a call, is it not?’

‘What’s going on with the Angel, Caizoa? I just heard my Guildmaster of Spur was nearly assassinated a while ago.’

‘Yeah. Her and about a hundred other highly placed incani the world over. Not many succeeded, for the Black Star saw them moving all at once across Veird and I started alerting people right away.’ Caizoa sent, ‘Half the time the Angel isn’t on Veird, though. She has a [Gate] to Celes, for sure.’

Erick sighed, as he felt some ephemeral weight descend on his shoulders. ‘Ah. That’s a complication.’

‘She was being circumspect about it at the beginning, but something changed recently. We’re not sure what. She disappeared from the surface every so often and reappeared in the Underworld a few times, making her an impossible target, but then the Black Star spotted her on Celes two days ago. She’s been on the dark side of that moon since then.’

‘Impossible to attack?’

‘You got a way to blow up Celes? Let me know and I will help you make that happen.’ Caizoa asked, ‘Did Zago give you that letter? Don’t accept it. Or do, and make the complication of you a bit easier to deal with.’

Erick filed away every single one of the implications of Caizoa’s words, then changed the subject, ‘If she’s up there, could she not bring more true Angels to Veird, then? All it takes is a [Gate] to Celes, right?’

‘It takes more than that. A ritual, at the very least. Something powerful enough to overcome Koyabez’s Domain of Veird, and a [Gate] is not that power. All this means is that we can’t get her how we thought.’ Caizoa said,‘So don’t worry about her. We’d rather you stayed away from her, anyway. I’d hate to have to kill you after you’ve done so much good for this world.’

Her words were insincere. She would be fine with killing him.

Erick sent, ‘Good night, Caizoa.’

He got in his last words, and ended the call.

- - - -

‘Archmage Flatt. To what do I owe this late honor?’ spoke Viscount Andro Helix, of Frontier.

‘I’m going to be blunt. Can you stop the Converter Angel?’

‘Nope, and I have no reason to. The incani deserve everything they have reaped. They destroyed Odaali, Erick, or is your memory truly that selective?’

‘Did you authorize the attack on Sirocco Zago, the Mage Guildmaster of Spur?’

‘Not the latest one. I can tell you that she has tried to have me killed, too, just so you know. Her actions almost got you killed by Bulgan, as well.’ He asked, ‘Would you like to come here and put me under truthstone? Or have your Mind Mage Scan me? I'm very willing to take this step if it means getting you away from incani who wish to kill you.’

‘All too willing, it seems, but I will have that Scan the next time I’m in Spur; I will call your bluff.’

A laugh. ‘I await your arrival with open arms. But until then: have you heard? The Wasteland is looking to annex Candlepoint. We will help you fight them off, if you wish. We can even do so diplomatically; without swords. You have but to ask.’

‘Send a trade envoy to Candlepoint. Help them with honest commerce.’

‘We can do that, too.’ Andro Helix said, ‘But I feel I have gotten a raw deal out of our talk today, Archmage. It is considerably expensive for us to travel that distance, so I confess that I don’t see the good in setting up such a trade. Could you sweeten the deal? We could use an embassy in your city.’

‘Mephistopheles will be in touch.’

Erick ended the call, touching his head, fighting off a headache. He looked to Poi, asking, “Is it right or good to ignore the fact that they’ve both tried to kill each other before? It seems self-serving and disingenuous, but it also seems like the best way to proceed.”

Poi shrugged. “I can’t answer that, except to say that how you choose to proceed is how it will probably go. You’re a power now, Erick. People fall in line with what you want, or they’ll stay out of your way.”

“I’m still not comfortable with that. Benevolent tyranny is still tyranny.”

“I think you are making problems out of thick air.” Poi said, “Soon, the Moon Reachers will be gone. Deathsoul Shrooms are headed the same direction. You recently saved a decent sized group of orcols from imprisonment and rescued shadelings and the world from the Shades. You invented a spell of rain that already spreads through Atunir’s temples to feed people from many different nations the world over; both in the Wasteland, and in the Republic, and Nelboor and Nergal. And this is just the start. Anyone would love to have you as their overlord, sir.”

Erick felt a stab of some awful emotion knife through his heart. He recoiled, saying, “Ugh! Terrible word.”

Poi shrugged.

“And I couldn’t have done any of it alone! You’ve kept me a lot safer than otherwise. No one lives alone, or works alone, and I am no different. I would have been killed a dozen times over if not for you, according to what I saw in Guardmaster Merit’s office that one time— And that reminds me! That assassin from the Green Circle. I should have held that over Andro’s head.”

Poi said, “That kill order was surely issued by the Viridian King. I doubt Viscount Helix had much to do with that, but I do not know. That is just my professional opinion.”

Erick sighed. And then he frowned. “Overlord! Really! I’m not no overlord.”

Poi shrugged. “Would you prefer ‘Mage Emperor’?

“Ugh!”

“Archmage Tyrant King?”

“…”

“Lord of Candlepoint and Roadbuilder to the Stars?”

“… You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Poi could not help but smirk, as he offered, “Worldmaker? Demon Slayer? Angel Killer, soon enough.”

Erick sighed.

- - - -

Four days and many slaughters later, the last Moon Reacher breathed its last breath in the Forest of Glaquin. Coincidentally, the final Reacher was killed by a team led by Kordon, with Jane and a few others in his party.

The celebration that night was monumental, enveloping all of Treehome.

Eight days after that, the last Deathsoul Shroom of the Forest was fried by four bunnies, each hopping around the Adult Shroom, each releasing torrents of power, like so much electric death. Sizzi had taken out the bulk of those targets, herself. Her bunnies and metal ooze could do so, so much more than Kiri’s Sunny, or even Erick’s Ophiel.

The party that night was even larger than the previous one. Though Erick was honored with many words and many gifts, Sizzi and Kiri both received their fair share of the accolades. Sizzi was even more popular than Erick, for she was actually approachable in the conventional sense, down there at her own table of honor, closer to the actual ground. People could see Erick, though, up there at his high table of honor, sitting with the Elders, but they could not approach him like they could approach Sizzi.

To everyone’s surprise, the Culling of the Forest went off without a hitch. No one died. Everyone lived.

… Monsters died, by the hundreds of thousands.

Monsters didn’t count.

The Culling of the Forest went off without a hitch; Erick had to repeat that to himself a few times. No one expected that. Everyone expected some other interruption like a Cultist attack, or something worse.

Erick still had no idea where that lead missile from the Cultist attack came from. He had squirreled that payload away in a tree out in the Forest, and he checked on it occasionally, just to see if he could find any clues as to who had tried to kill Syllea, but nothing came of that, either.

In fact, the entire world seemed to pause while the Culling took place.

The Converter Angel had remained on the moon of Celes, full time. She hadn’t moved much except back and forth on that white pearl of a celestial sphere, with almost all of those movements being on the other side of that moon. The one time she had appeared on the visible side, Caizoa had called Erick up and told him to look.

He couldn’t see her. Not even with Ophiel’s eyesights. Maybe he should have been carrying a telescope with him? The Converter Angel moved on even as Erick moved to find a telescope. Caizoa ended that call, disappointed in him. Some part of him felt that her call had been nothing more than a ploy, or a taunt, or something similar.

So Erick ignored the caustic young woman’s comments, and focused on what the Converter Angel had done since being up there on the moon, and the fact was, that the Converter Angel hadn’t made any new attacks against the incani of Veird, at all. She hadn’t done much of any visible thing, up there.

So what was all that about?

- - - -

Erick woke with the dawn.

Something had woken him up. Some intrinsic thing…

What had woken him? He checked himself out, and, finding nothing wrong, expanded his mana sense throughout the whole hotel room.

Jane was asleep in her bed in her room, tangled in the sheets. Kiri, Teressa, and Poi were all in their own rooms. Sizzi had crashed out in her own bed; exhausted. That young woman had truly done more than anyone when it came to Culling the Forest. Erick had been impressed with her fortitude, but she had been extremely busy, and he had not gotten much time to talk to her beside normal pleasantries. No one had. For her, it had been ‘wake at dawn, cast for 14 hours, then crash’. She was truly determined to make her mark, and Erick didn’t quite understand why, or for what reason, though he did have his suspicions.

But for now, the young woman had crashed out for a different reason than ‘overwork’. With how much all of them drank last night, none of them would be waking up for several more hours. Poi might be awake in a little while, but everyone else had partied hard. Erick didn’t want to be awake at this hour, either, and it wasn’t a full bladder that had woken him, though there was enough pressure down there that he could probably just get up and take care of that while he could.

But...

Something had woken him...

He checked himself and his Status.

His Shroud was healed. Mostly. He was rested, for sure. His Mana Regen was still a bit broken, but it was at 90% of where it should be; and that would have to be enough. Maybe he had woken over the anticipation of the spells he had unlocked and bought in the last few days? He hadn’t had much experience with any of them outside of initial usage since he was still healing and he truly could not afford to set his healing back any longer with any experimentation, but his new spells would prove useful, soon enough.

--

Witness X, variable cast time, variable range, 25 mana

See the past.

--

Future Sight X, variable cast time, variable range, 25 mana

See the future.

--

True Sight X, instant, medium range, 25 mana per second

See through all falsehoods.

--

But that anticipation had not woken him.

Why… ?

He gasped. He realized. He mentally checked the day, and knew what was coming, and what had happened. The Converter Angel wasn’t the only thing looming on the horizon.

An event a year in the making was scheduled to come to fruition, soon. Right now?

Today? Yes. Today.

Any second now.

As though summoned by his thoughts and fears, a blue box appeared, unbidden. A thrill of excitement and apprehension coiled up and down Erick’s spine, for the blue box was blank.

And then words began to populate that blue field, as though typed by a godly hand, directly to him.

--

Particle Magic is now a part of the Script.

Details to follow for concerned parties...

--