Echoes of War, Ch 31: Settling Accounts (Patreon)

Crown Prince Osander was leaning back on a golden couch with a glass of elegant Rehanian red in one hand and the other wrapped around a beautiful courtesan in a revealing dress who was tucked in beside him. A second courtesan was rubbing his feet with a polished smile, while another courtesan was draped over the side of the couch, offering him a tray of delicacies.

The prince was barely 30, and his chest was bare, revealing well-defined muscles that showed a powerful body, but there was a glazed look in his eyes as he drank his wine and watched the illusionists practice their art in front of him. The courtesans were little more than window dressing as he stared at the play. It was the third time this week that he’d seen this same play.

Soon, the shadowy hunter who was leading the lady through the forest would reveal he was actually the villain. Usually, he liked that part, since it was the most exciting part of the story, but right now he was feeling bored and irritable. Something was bothering him and he wasn’t sure what it was. It was an itch at the back of his mind that made it impossible for him to relax. Even the courtesans’ attention wasn’t helping.

“Farzen!” he called as he looked upward, without bothering to turn his head. “Start a new play. An interesting one!”

The royal seneschal appeared almost instantly. Farzen was a grey-haired man in elegant robes whose strength was near the top of the kingdom and one of his main tasks was to keep track of the crown prince. Even Osander wasn’t sure how he’d ended up as seneschal, but he was efficient and kept things interesting, so he didn’t have too many complaints about him. The kingdom was barely interesting most days and at least he kept him from being too bored.

Without delay, Farzen barked a series of commands at the illusionists, whose faces turned pale as they stopped their spells. The streamers of light creating the illusions faded away, as did the music accompanying them from the musicians in the corner, and they began constructing a new sequence. Streams of hazy mana filled the air, covering the center of the chamber and the walls as a shining palace began to appear where the dark forest had been. Osander frowned as he stared at the image, trying to place it, and then it clicked.

“Farzen!” he shouted with exasperation, “wasn’t this last month’s play? Why are you showing it to me again?”

He drained his glass of wine and then with an idle flick, he tossed it at the seneschal in complaint. With his strength, the goblet shot through the air like a mana bolt, strong enough to tear the head off a cow, but when it approached the seneschal, Farzen reached out idly and intercepted it. The goblet deformed in his hand like it had struck a cliff.

One of the new courtesans let out a sharp squeak of surprise, her eyes wide as she stared between the prince and the royal advisor.

“Your Highness,” Farzen said reproachfully as he looked down at the misshapen goblet in his hand, “try to have some patience while the performers work. You cannot throw things at them. They are not as strong as you.”

“That’s why I threw it at you!” Osander let out a boisterous laugh as his mood improved. Messing with Farzen was one of his main hobbies. It was nearly impossible to get a rise out of the man, so even a reproachful statement was a win. “I knew you’d catch it. Turn it into a sword for me!” He looked eagerly at the seneschal as he waited.

Farzen was a metal mage, and his abilities were more than enough to turn that goblet into an impressive weapon. Sometimes, he could even convince the man to arm the servants and let them fight one another. This time, however, he was disappointed as a quick spell fell from Farzen’s lips that restored the goblet to its original form.

“You have duties to attend to, Your Highness,” the seneschal replied calmly as he set the goblet to the side. “The ambassadors from Avalis will be arriving soon to discuss trade and your father has appointed you to oversee the meeting. The negotiations have been settled, but it needs your presence to proceed. You only need to nod at the right moments and then sign the documents in the name of the kingdom. The authority of the World Law will then recognize the treaty.”

“That’s no fun,” Osander grumbled as he picked up the courtesan at his side and set her farther away. She was as light as a feather to him, and it got him another squeak of surprise, which made him grin as he sat up. “Can’t you deal with it? And wasn’t there a delegation of ambassadors last week that I had to do that for already?”

He was always signing documents and talking to people, but he rarely paid attention to any of them. That was Farzen’s job.

“Those were the cloud mages from the southern ocean, Your Highness,” Farzen replied blandly as he kept an eye on the illusionists who were still trying to create a new scene. “They were here to discuss weather enchantments for the crops on the central plains.”

“Was that why they kept talking about rain?” Osander asked with a frown. He couldn’t recall the names of any of them. “What happened to them anyway...did they grow some crops or not?”

He didn’t feel like keeping track of the people he met, but those fellows had said something about wine, and he remembered that part. He liked wine. It was delicious and it kept things moving. He’d be a lot more bored without wine.

“And what happened to those guys you sent to stop the rogue spirit who was digging around in Aloso’s vineyard?” he asked as a spark of curiosity floated through his eyes. “Did they kill him yet? If not, do you think we can go see him? It’s been a long time since I left the capital.”

He’d heard the report a few days ago about the chaotic spirit causing trouble down there. He didn’t usually pay attention to World Spirits or things related to them, but that one was too strange. It was the same one that had gotten in his father’s way when he wanted to take over Highfold, which meant they needed to teach it a lesson.

Even if he was lazy most of the time, this was his family’s kingdom. He had a sense of ownership toward it. If his father wanted to take over some little city, he should be able to. He didn’t understand why it was a problem.

Farzen had said something about old treaties, but he hadn’t listened to the lecture. He was looking forward to conquering a new city. He didn’t think that had happened in years, although his memory was blurry sometimes. Maybe it had been longer.

Either way, he’d never done it before, and that made it exciting. He wanted to tour the city afterwards and see all the people with their heads bowed in submission while others cheered and threw flowers. He wasn’t happy that the spirit had gotten in the way, so when it showed up again, it got his attention.

It was also in a key area this time. Aloso was one of his father’s more loyal followers and gifted them a lot of wine every year, so they had to do something about his vineyard.

Before Farzen could answer his question about the spirit, however, a shudder went through the walls of the palace, shaking the room he was in. It mixed with the illusion magic in the air and sent a hundred rays of multicolored light dancing across the walls. The prince turned toward it, his attention immediately caught as he let out a boisterous laugh.

“This is new!” he said with a grin as he looked at the illusionists. All the thoughts of the spirit were tossed aside as his attention shifted to the present. The lights dancing across everything made the room seem like it was spinning and he let out another booming laugh. “Is it an illusion of an earthquake? Farzen, you have to give these guys a reward! I’ve never seen an illusionist shake the room before! Do it again!”

“Your Highness, that’s not...” Farzen’s expression was alarmed, but before he could finish his words, the shaking intensified. He looked up at the walls and turned pale. He suddenly threw himself at Osander as a steely grey barrier with metallic highlights formed in the air around them. “Get down!”

“Is this a steel barrier?” Osander laughed as he caught Farzen in one hand and looked around at the shield the mage had made. “I like you, Farzen, but I don’t want to hug you. You’re nowhere near as pretty as these girls.”

He laughed again as he held Farzen off to the side and looked up at the cracking walls. There was no surprise on his features, just curiosity. His entire life had been lived mostly in these palace walls, only interrupted by training when the guards brought him monsters to kill for experience.

This room and the training arena were the only places he spent much time, and now that something different was happening, he was looking forward to it!

At that moment, the room shuddered again, more violently than before. The floor and walls rippled as loose stones shook free and chunks of plaster and marble rained onto the floor. Cracks spread across the wall near the ceiling as sunlight suddenly burst through.

Giant golden spikes drove through the roof from the sides and closed in the center, leaving behind massive rips in the walls. Stones cascaded around them, but instead of falling, they floated in the air, trapped by some spell. Then the roof disappeared, lifting away into the sky in the grasp of a massive golden hand. The spikes that had torn through the walls were its fingers.

Osander’s eyes were wide as he stared upward at the ceiling, and a grin continued to spread across his features until his mouth was hanging open with delight. This was the most interesting thing that had happened all year!

“Farzen!” he shouted at the seneschal he was still holding off to the side. The man’s panic only made him laugh harder. “More wine!”

*****

The clouds above the capitals exploded with bolts of silver lightning as Sam ripped away the roof of the crown prince’s palace. He towered into the sky at 200 feet tall and the clouds swirled around his shoulders, outlining him in a stormy cloak. The palace below was barely up to his knees, and his hand was large enough to span the entire roof of the room that held the prince. The dome-shaped construction crumbled between his fingers as he tossed it aside onto one of the grassy parks.

He reached down through the gap in the roof as he swept up the prince in his hand. The man’s Level 340 strength was nothing compared to his, but the prince barely even struggled. He was looking up at Sam with wide eyes and a delighted grin as he was carried skyward. Sam scanned his aura now that he had him so close and frowned. He’d sensed something strange about the prince from a distance, but now he confirmed it.

The man’s mind was clearly addled by some spell that made him easy to manipulate, but it was something to deal with later. He had a plan for the prince and it would work just as well like this. That was why he’d come here first.

Behind him, the Ice Drake floated in the distance and the four hundred nagas of the Silvery Army shone like coiled lightning as they hovered in the sky, creating pillars of elemental power among the storm. Each of them was inside a node of the enchantment he’d created, waiting for the moment to strike. The enchantment was temporary, but the nagas presence and the storm maintained all of the nodes as it enclosed the entire nobles’ quarter.

In the sky, Silverbeak and the astral assault golems cut through the air in streaks of silver wings, slicing the clouds as they circled the area and looked for prey. Lightning and ice crackled along their feathers and their passage made the storm clouds spin faster. With each sweep of their wings, they added more force to the storm.

The sky above the palace was a vast disk of spiraling clouds that framed Sam in sharp relief. His horns and golden skin burned with silver flames against the dark backdrop. Bolts of lightning ran along his skin and shot away from his horns, and his Elemental Mastery was pouring out in waves of essence as he maintained the sky’s fury.

It was a dramatic appearance, especially since it had all appeared in the last dozen seconds. A few moments before, the sky had been clear, but now it was a threatening spiral outlining an angry Astral Titan. Perhaps this type of thing was why the Outsider from the Path of Elements was called the Demon of Shattered Skies.

It looked like the world was furious.

“Kingdom of Aethra,” Sam rumbled as he looked down into the prince’s chamber. “You have broken the edicts of the World Law. You have assaulted your ancient allies and released Outsiders into the world. As High Artificer and Guardian of Aster Fall, I am here to pass judgment upon you.”

In his mind, it was the World Core and not the World Law, but he used the term the people here would understand. His mood was a mix of cold anger and wrath, but little of it was directed at the prince he’d just grabbed. His anger was reserved for the king and the nobles who created the problem.

He’d already searched through the entire city before Sleset and the Silver Army arrived and he knew more or less what was going on, so he’d decided on this approach to make his presence known. The prince was a key figure and it was much easier to grab him than the king, who was protected deeper inside the palace. If things went as he predicted, the prince would be useful soon.

Sam looked down at the muscled idiot in his hand and shook his head. He surrounded him in an Astral Shield and set him to float at his side, where everyone could see him.

“What’s happening next?” the prince asked eagerly, grinning as he looked around and knocked on the shield curiously. There was no trace of fear on his features, just an excited curiosity. It looked like he was having a good time.

Sam ignored him as he continued to stir up the storm, making it larger and more powerful. His words were still echoing across the entire city, carrying like thunder. His Silver Army’s formation was separating the nobles’ district from the rest of the capital, but he wanted to make sure everyone saw what was going on. With his height and the storm, it wasn’t hard to get off to a good start.

Citizens began appearing from every doorway and alley, staring in his direction as they tried to see what was going on.

“King of Veritan, come before the judgment of the World Law,” he growled in a voice that rumbled with the storm. “Come and show the truth to your people and how you have betrayed them.”

Every word he spoke carried to the far reaches of the city, echoing from the walls and the air. There was nowhere within a dozen miles that wouldn’t hear him, and he wasn’t holding back his aura. The full force of his astral energy and essence as an Astral Titan pressed down on the city like a lead blanket, making it difficult for people to move and adding emphasis to his words.

This wasn’t the time to be shy.

His return to Aster Fall had been too quiet, so it was time for a change. Sometimes, hiding your power only leads to more problems. He had to frighten the people of the kingdom into a better path, and for that he’d chosen a carrot and a stick.

He was starting with the stick.

Since he’d come here to deal with the king, it wouldn’t help to do it in secret. He wanted the capital to know he was watching, that he was the voice of the World Law they pretended to worship, and that the king was being justly punished.

Killing a king needed a spectacle. Otherwise, the people wouldn’t know why it happened.

As for the king’s crimes, he’d already confirmed them with his investigation after arriving at the city. He’d broken through the palace wards earlier and listened to the king’s conversation for long enough to determine that. What he hadn’t expected to find was that there was an Outsider outpost buried beneath the capital.

That was where the king was now.

The outpost was almost entirely broken, with barely any runes still functioning, and it looked like it had been there for a long time. It went a long way to explaining some of the appearance of Outsider artifacts in the kingdom. There was also a massive grey crystal at the center, which was the source of the energy that attacked him back at the gate. The bone shield from the elites had the same energy on it.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised by the outpost here, but he was.

Most likely, the World Core had long ago decided that this ruin was destroyed, so it didn’t pay much attention to it. The king or his ancestors had taken advantage of that to turn it into their base. It was well hidden from the surface, but it couldn’t escape Sam’s senses, especially with the trace of Outsider runes that were still functioning on it.

It wouldn’t have bothered him too much to find people studying Outsider ruins if they were doing it to protect the world, but the king was currently meeting with four members of exiled races down there. An array of Outsider weapons was on the table and the discussion of a trade, which made it clear that the exiled races were providing them to him.

A map of Highfold and several other key areas near the kingdom was on the table in front of them all, including some of the Bloodline Clans and a couple strongholds of the dwarves and the church, all of them marked as potential areas for conquest. The king was offering assistance in taking over those areas to the exiled races in exchange for the weapons and their military forces inside the kingdom.

He wanted to use the current situation with the Dimensional Convergence and Flaws appearing everywhere to consolidate his power and eliminate anyone who threatened his authority, including old allies. It was more than Sam had expected to find here, and it showed that the problems with the kingdom ran deep.

Perhaps in a different situation, it would have been a clever plan to strengthen the kingdom, but combined with the attack on Highfold and at the Passion Gate, it was enough for Sam to pass judgment. If this plan went forward, the Ice Sylphs wouldn’t be the only allies who were attacked.

Aethra would be better off with a different king.

At that moment, Sam’s appearance finally got a reaction from the palace. The response came from the nobles and guards rising up all around the palace. His arrival was sudden and no wards had announced his presence, but it was hard to ignore a titan appearing in the sky with a storm that stretched in every direction.

Now, they were like a kicked beehive as they grabbed their enchanted equipment and flew upward into the air. Within moments, hundreds of combatants filled the sky. Ranks of the king’s royal guards dressed in gold and blue were at the forefront. All of them were over Level 200 and their captains were over 300. There were nearly a thousand of them in total as they merged into formations and activated defensive wards while staring at the prince that Sam had captured.

Scattered around them were hundreds more officials in loose packs, most of them over Level 200 as well, and dozens of Level 300 ones that carried a greater weight of prestige and had richer clothing. They were the real power here.

Sam looked at the ranks of enemies as he cracked his knuckles. The royal guards were casting enhancement spells on themselves and activating their formations, but their features were dark with rage as they stared at the prince in the shield. They were hesitating for the moment, since the prince was a hostage, but it wouldn’t last for long.

“Release the prince, giant!” one of the bolder guard captains shouted as he stepped forward and pointed his spear at Sam. His bravery was on full display as he prepared to attack.

“Attack and rescue the prince! Don’t let the giant kidnap him!” The shout came from the robed advisor who had been beside the prince. A quick analysis said his name was Farzen. “He hasn’t harmed him, so he must be planning to take him away! Don’t let him leave!”

A handful of other officials in robes came to the same conclusion and began shouting as well, ordering the royal guards forward. As for themselves, they sent hesitant glances at the storm in the sky and began slinking backward, clearly intending to flee.

With the chaotic shouts from every side and the prince right in front of them, it was too much for the guards. Hundreds threw themselves forward in a wave of blue and gold, heading for the prince. They wanted to get him back.

One thing about Sam’s size was that he made for a very large target. The guards had no trouble finding space to launch an attack. Spells and weapons flew toward him in a mass of a dozen colors, their edges burning with flames, razor edges, and glowing enchantments.

Sam raised a hand in front of himself, his expression unchanging. A silver blade of light cut through the space there and rotated, turning into a dark barrier that held a thousand pinpoints of light inside. It was like a window that seemed to stretch endlessly into the Void.

The attacks sank into the depths of the Void and disappeared. Their energy was too weak to even cause a ripple. A moment later, the window to the Void folded in on itself and disappeared, leaving only the same slash of light behind that slowly faded away like mist. None of the attacks that had been swallowed reappeared, nor did any of the weapons that went into it.

This was Void Wall, his newest ability.

It was the first time he’d used the spell and he had to give it an inward nod of approval. The duration was variable and it could last for as long as he had the essence to maintain it, but it was a true window to the Void. It was very similar to opening a dimensional gate to swallow an attack. There was another way to use it too, by layering dimensional energy to create a destructive barrier, but this was the easiest.

All of the attacks were dissipating into the chaos winds of the Void outside of Aster Fall.

The royal guards stared at the space where their attacks had been. Their charge turned into ragged steps as their momentum was interrupted. It was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. The officials farther back were trying to activate the defensive enchantments on the palace, which he’d already disabled, so he needed to act before they tried something else.

A quick sweep of his hand sent thousands of silver stars shooting through the air as he activated a mass teleportation enchantment he’d set up around the palace. All of the servants and weaker beings in the entire noble’s quarter shimmered like silver flames as they were teleported away to another section of the city.

The forces left in the area spun around in shock as they saw the stars shooting past them, and at that moment, Sam reached out to the World Core through his connection as High Artificer and showed it the king’s association with exiled races and the Outsider weapons, as well as the outpost below the city.

The heavy weight of the World Core’s attention fell on the area, its familiar power filling the capital. To everyone in the quarter and across the city, it made the association between him and the World Law as clear as day. They were the one and the same.

Now, it was time.

“Unless you wish to die with your fallen king, all of you should leave,” Sam said as he looked across the people left outside the palace. An image appeared in the air at his command, outlined in silver flames, as he showed them where the king was. “Even now, he is working with the enemies of the kingdom to betray your old allies. Under his rule, the kingdom will fall to Outsiders and traitors. He is not worth your loyalty. You have three seconds to choose your side.”

Then the World Core spoke.

Outsider activity detected in this location. An Outsider outpost and unapproved artifacts are present.

All nearby Authorities of Law are summoned to eliminate the threat to Aster Fall and to defend the World Seal.

Those who oppose this effort will be marked as Defiant and lose access to authority and powers granted by the World Law.

The World Core might not have paid attention to the king’s activities in the past, but there was no hiding from it now. With the World Core backing up his words, Sam’s speech was like a decree from the gods.

No one who heard it doubted him any longer. It was a moment of utter condemnation from the world they lived on. Faces went pale as some of the guards began to throw aside their weapons and run.

Here and there, officials began to run like headless chickens, racing toward the border of the palace and fleeing into the parks nearby as they tried to escape the nobles’ quarter. Some of the royal guards were slower to act, but sections of them stared up at the image Sam had summoned and then began to pull back.

“Level the palace,” Sam sent to the Silver Army. “Ignore anyone who doesn’t attack you. Destroy the structure and pull out the king.”

Silver nagas shot down like lightning bolts across the area, their hisses splitting the air as their elemental manipulation abilities came to the fore. Roaring torrents of ice, flame, spiraling earth, hurricane winds, and swirling green leaves like blades tore across the capital.

As they landed, the palace buildings exploded. Stones fountained in every direction, ornate crenellations and domed roofs collapsed inward, streets were torn apart, and soaring walls began to topple over.

Sleset landed in the center of the main palace with his three captains behind him, all of them hissing with delight as they lashed outward. Walls crashed into one another and flew away, leaving shattered trails of stones in their wake. Their tails crashed into marble columns that exploded and joined the disaster.

Behind the nagas, the storm descended from the sky. The winds were charged with astral energy and all the elements in a roaring ocean of destruction that was very similar to the chaos winds of the Void. As they struck the stones, the palace buildings began to simply disappear. Their structures disintegrated, turning into dust that spiraled away in the storm.

The nagas raged to their hearts’ content, shattering everything around them in a wave of destruction. It was the first time their lord had let them have free rein to destroy his enemies, and they didn’t hold back. Guards that tried to oppose them were torn to pieces in a rain of blood and mangled armor. Hisses of victory accompanied bodies falling to the ground.

Sam’s attention covered the area, keeping a close eye on everyone who’d been in the palace as he continued teleporting people away. Anyone who looked indecisive or frozen in terror and unsure of what to do turned into a streak of silver light and disappeared. He wasn’t here to kill everyone in the palace, and he was doing his best to make sure no one innocent was harmed.

For those who chose to defend the king and attack the nagas, he left them where they were for the nagas to deal with. Under the force of the Silver Army and the storm, it didn’t take long for half the palace to erode away to nothing and the most stubborn troops were falling at the same rate.

Just then, a rubble in the earth drew Sam’s attention and he looked toward the center of the palace, where a vortex of earth was starting to spin. It didn’t take long before half a dozen figures rose up from the ground and stood in the air above the ruins.

The king had finally arrived.

He was wearing a golden and red robe that was draped over a muscular, fit body, and his hair was streaked with grey threads at the temple. It gave him a fierce and authoritative look that suited a king. Right now, however, his expression was a mix of ashen grey and red fury, as if he couldn’t decide which to choose. There was no way he’d missed Sam’s speech or the words of the World Core.

Of the people with him, one was a human advisor in a hooded robe that shadowed his features, while three were from exiled races that Sam hadn’t seen before. There was a muscular figure whose body looked like it was carved from sandstone, a rail-thin figure with an oversized head and glowing green eyes that took up half of its features, a humanoid lizardfolk with retractable claws on the tips of its blunt fingers and black bands across its snout.

The last one was a bellisagi. The race’s signature grey skin, skull-like face, red eyes, and four arms were on full display as it looked up at Sam and snarled in defiance.

There was no way for the king to hide his actions. The image of him in the Outsider outpost was still in the air and the World Law had spoken. Consorting with the exiled races was nearly a crime already, since they made up the bulk of the black market and illegal activities across multiple kingdoms. Standing side by side with them as the head of the kingdom irrevocably tarnished his reputation.

He gave a close look at the crown prince who was still floating near Sam and then he glared at him, but he didn’t try to defend himself.

“Kill this rogue spirit and I’ll deal with the World Law,” he ordered the people around him. His voice carried easily across the ruined palace, filled with authority and self-confidence. “Don’t worry about the Defiant trait. It’s easy enough to get rid of later by clearing a few low-level Flaws.” To him, the Defiant trait was clearly like a transaction, a fine to be paid to get the World Law off his back.

“If you manage this, I’ll get your exiled status removed immediately afterwards,” he promised as he looked at the green-eyed creature next to him. “I have the peace treaty to sign with your people already prepared. Your race has always been on the verge of acceptance, and with one person speaking on your behalf, the World Law will recognize it and change your status. Then you can settle in the territory we discussed.”

“Remember your words,” the exile hissed as it turned toward Sam. “My people are not forgiving of those who break their promises to us.”

“Don’t worry,” the king replied confidently. “I’ve never let you down before. This will all disappear as soon as we deal with that spirit.” He turned to the hooded advisor next to him as he continued to speak. “Jesen, activate the palace’s second line of defense. I don’t know what happened to the main enchantment, but I can sense that one is still there.” Then the king turned to look at Sam, his expression dark.

“I don’t know who really sent you, but you won’t be the first World Spirit I’ve killed.” As he spoke, he pulled a long dagger from his robes. The blade was bright blue and radiated with mana. It was clearly made of some strange metal. “Once you’re dead, the rest of this will settle down, even if I have to destroy that outpost myself to prove it to the World Law.”

His actions were clear enough. He was used to tricking the World Law by cooperating with it in obvious ways and going against it in ones that wouldn’t get much attention. Now, he was clearly willing to destroy the outpost and the Outsider weapons behind him if it meant getting his way. It was all just a matter of costs to him and what he needed to do to tip things into his favor.

At that point, however, the Silver Army had already surrounded the king and his group. Sleset towered above the king at 24ft, almost like a miniature version of Sam. The naga folded his four arms as he stared down at him. The lightning bolts on his cheeks and the silver half crown on his head glowed with mana, making him look like an avatar of the storm.

“An ant has no right to speak to the Silver Lord,” he hissed. “Your fate has been decreed.”

“I am the king of Aethra!” the king responded, his temper flaring for the first real time as he looked up at Sleset. “Who are you to speak to me?” Then he turned to Sam as he continued.

“And who are you to speak for the World Law? The World Law is the record of royalty. It obeys my word, not yours. It has old rules locked into it that make change difficult, but that is all. It is a tool for my use and that of other royalty, handed down from our ancestors in direct succession. I don’t know how you managed to come here and destroy my palace, but I will repay you in blood for every moment of this attack.”

Sam didn’t reply as he looked down at the king. Instead, he felt for the connection to the World Core and spoke to it. He didn’t need to add much. The king had already said everything that the World Core needed to hear. He just had to suggest a way to respond, basically giving it a push in the right direction. As High Artificer, as long as there was a valid reason, the core would usually cooperate with him. Only then did he speak, his words filled with a burning force.

“For crimes against Aster Fall and attempting to manipulate the World Law, Keres Nephral, King of Aethra, I strip you of your authority and titles, and I mark you as an Exile, so that you can join those you choose to spend time with.”

As Sam spoke, the attention of the World Core in the area pressed down more heavily on the king, and then a moment later, its announcement rang out across the city like the voice of an enormous bell.

The High Artificer of Aster Fall’s decree is recorded. The Kingdom of Aethra has 180 days to appoint a new monarch before all titles of nobility and treaties signed by the king will be dissolved.

“What?!” Keres’s eyes were wide now as he checked his status to see what had just happened and then stared upward into the sky. “How is that possible?!”

“For attacking my homeland and people,” Sam said as he looked down at the tiny figure of the former king, “it is time to settle the account.”

He hadn’t forgotten who was behind the attack on Highfold that nearly killed his family, nor that the exiles next to Keres were planning to do the same to seize territory. His desire for power made him blind to the real lives of people in the kingdom. He only saw them as disposable tools. He analyzed Keres to see the changes in his status.

Keres Nephral. Fogsoul Summoner-Exiled Sorcerer. Level 399.

Status: Exile, Former King of Aethra, Censured by the High Artificer.

Both of his classes were focused on magical combat, but his subclass had been “King of Aethra” until a few moments ago. Now, that was replaced by Exiled Sorcerer and his former rank was a footnote. It had changed after Sam’s decree.

The change in his subclass was interesting, since it was the first time Sam had seen it happen like this. A royal title came with its own abilities, mostly leadership and alliance ones that related to the kingdom. When the title was gained, it could change the type of subclass someone had, but that change was overlaid on top of the original subclass and you wouldn’t lose your original abilities. The new title was a mantle of power granted by the World Core.

In the rest of the galaxy, there were other artifacts that could do the same thing, and the Path of Stars was the greatest of them, but the World Core was in the rank just below it.

Keres had probably been something like a “Royal Sorcerer” before he became king, but now that he had lost the royal connection, the subclass’s name changed. As for his main class, it was a summoner type, which was suited to a commander, but fog was a rare elemental affinity.

It was undoubtedly the first time in many years that the king had felt so helpless in the face of external power. He was used to things being the other way around.

At that moment, the ex-king’s rage grew beyond his control and the bright glow of grey mana burst out around him. Tendrils of fog blasted outward in every direction as they formed into a fog bank, and the earth below his feet trembled as the Outsider outpost came to life. Streams of grey essence exploded upward from the shattered earth where the palace had been, shooting into the air and gathering into the shapes of hundreds of grey-armored warriors.

The grey crystal at the center of the outpost burned with mana as links formed between it and the warriors. The energy started off as translucent, but within moments, the warriors were as solid as stone. Their bodies were covered in grey plate armor, giving them the appearance of an armored legion. Sharp spears and shields formed in their hands, as well as stranger equipment like whips, hooked daggers, and nets.

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he looked across the ranks of grey warriors. The king’s class as a Fogsoul Summoner made sense now, as did how he was using the crystal in the outpost. It was like a magical storage artifact for him. From the auras that were radiating from the summoned warriors, it looked like he’d bound the energy of warriors who had once served him to it.

They served in life and now they served in death...but he doubted the king had asked them if they agreed.

“Even if you’ve destroyed the palace,” Keres growled as he raised the blue dagger to point at Sam, “I still have my own power and this outpost. Once you’re dead, I’ll find a way to reverse the World Law’s verdict, and then I’ll take back what’s mine. Nothing is set in stone. Kill him!”

At his word, the ranks of grey warriors charged toward Sam. They were like a fog bank rolling across the ground, and their speed was faster than it seemed, but Sam only shook his head as he ignored them. Their attacks couldn’t damage him at all. All he did was erect a barrier to keep them from climbing his legs.

The remaining exiles and even the advisor next to the king shuddered as they saw the difference in power and began to run as well, trying to put distance between themselves and the former king.

“Since you only believe in power, I’ll tell you that you are right about one thing,” Sam said, his voice pitched so only Keres could hear him. He pointed up at the storm that was still covering the sky. The elemental energy throughout the clouds thundered with his words as brilliant silver stars formed in the darkness. “This was not set in stone. It was your choice to attack me, and it was my choice to ruin you. In your next life, make sure you remember that.”

The stars in the storm turned into the blinding bolts of an Astral Strike as they descended, leaving the streaks of long tails behind. Then they struck the area where Keres was standing. The former king was disintegrated in an instant, his body ripped to pieces by the blast. The king’s fog warriors were incinerated as the explosion rolled out across the fallen palace, turning it into a field of silver-white flames.

The strikes didn’t stop there. Silver meteors continued hammering the earth as they ripped their way down into the ground, targeting the old Outsider outpost. Stone and bedrock were hurled aside and torn to molten slag as layer after layer of rock was removed, until eventually they reached the rippled stone of the old war.

The outpost was buried deeply, but it wasn’t deep enough to endure what was happening. The walls melted as Outsider runes exploded and a path was opened to the control node at the center. The artifacts on the table that the exiles had brought shattered under the force of the strikes, adding corrosive black and red energies to the air.

The grey crystal that had powered everything couldn’t resist the destruction either. Its faceted sides glowed with spidery runes as giant cracks ran across the surface and a vast force gathered at the center, even stronger than the essence that had infused the bone shield, but before it could lash out, it also exploded. Shards of crystal blasted outward into the walls, but they melted away as they met the Astral Strikes.

A short while later, the storm clouds faded away, leaving behind the footprint of the ruined palace and a hole that was five hundred feet deep with heated lava glowing at the bottom.