Chapter 48 - Downpour and Despair (Patreon)

Echo and Fumi reached the Great Clan stronghold of Xulatar by nightfall. The forest had been grown into the city walls – the only way to assault the city would be from above, or through the Northern and Southern gates.

Buildings were seemingly woven from and created from the trees surrounding them – albeit more spaced out than most of the forest. Fumi explained that the Krekyo Dominion’s two forest Clans – the Xulatar and the Kumawara – had many shamans (their name for druids) that could control and shape the trees to their will.

And so, they were led to a secondary defensive fortification. The only structure made from stone that lay at the center of the oval-shaped city. The estate of the Overlord. An enormous Edo-era styled castle, with several buildings on the exterior for servants and supplies.

It was one of these servant quarters Echo was directed to. Echo and Fumi shared a kiss before she left.

Fumi was guided to the Overlord’s audience hall by several heavily armed guards. All Gori. Other races were strewn about – criminals from foreign lands who sought to invade or steal from the Clan territories.

She sat in seiza on a large, soft cushion in front of an ornate and much large cushion. It was currently empty.

As is tradition.

Behind that cushion were six smaller cushions.

He has few wives.

That meant he must be a relatively new Overlord, as the tradition was to take a new wife every fifty years of consecutive rule.

The Overlord entered. A very tall Gori – even for a race of tall individuals, he stood out as a giant among lessers. His broad shoulders spoke to years of combat training and his tree-trunks of legs demonstrated his power. A braid of brown hair went from the top of his head to join a more ornate braid for his beard.

Fumi stood when he entered, waiting until he sat on the large cushion, before she resumed her pose, and bowed – with her head only.

“You sought an audience. I am Overlord Ragged Eclipse, of the Xulatar Great Clan.”

“I thank you for the audience. I am Fumi Medrana Soju, of the Soju Great Clan.”

The man chuckled and leaned forward, “So I heard. The Maven of the Blade, returned after her capture centuries ago.”

Fumi’s demeanor darkened at the reminder of her past failings against The Empire’s invasion. “Yes, I return.”

“You not only return, but you destroy an army of creatures that had plagued our forests.” His eyes narrowed, “But not alone. I would have expected one with your reputation to have handled the army themself.”

Fumi ground her teeth. He knew he was riling her up, and she really, reallywanted to show him the difference in their strength.

But part of being an Overlord was being diplomatic with other Overlords.

She smiled, “I chose my servants well.”

“So I heard.” Ragged Eclipse leaned back and gestured. At his silent command, servants came in and poured tea for the two, which Fumi graciously accepted. She held the cup, silently, waiting for him to drink his as custom dictates.

But he did not. He set it down. A grave insult, as the thin cup would burn the hands of those waiting for their turn to sip.

But Fumi didn’t feel such pain, her immunity to flames preventing any injury. “Your Great Clan is weak if those monsters could drive you back within your walls, Overlord.” Fumi goaded.

Ragged Eclipse waved his hand dismissively, “We have a Sanctioned Clan War and the next Choosing soon. Why waste our manpower?”

“Because it shows weakness. Do you think my clan, the great Soju, would bow to such monsters?”

The emotion that crossed the visage of this Overlord startled Fumi. It was…sorrow. And the emotion bled into his voice.

“You have not heard.”

Fumi’s heart skipped a beat. “Heard what?”

“The Soju…they are no more.”

Fumi threw the cup on the ground, standing up and pulling her blade as Quintessence flared around her, a neon-green pillar ascending to the roof before splashing against the surface, the red sparks filling the room in a torrent reflecting her rage.

“You lie!”

The Overlord held up his hand as his guards entered, waving to them to stand down.

Fumi stood there, fuming.

How dare he lie to me?

“I am the Maven of the Blade! You will tell me the truth!”

“Calm, Maven. It is the truth. The Soju were the first to fall to this wave of monsters. I truly am sorry. The loss of a Clan – any Clan – to anything but Sanctioned War is terrible.”

Fumi shook her head as tears streamed down her face.

It can’t be.

But then the images hit. The twisted monsters they had fought, the combination of Ogo and Gori.

They had a horrid facsimile of the Soju symbol on their skin. The tattoo that was hidden on the upper thigh; the symbol of the mountain stronghold they called home.

The only reason she did not notice at first was due to the malformed flesh. But now, remembering back, she could see it clearly in her mind.

Revulsion hit her. For the first time since becoming a monster, just like Echo, she felt sick to her stomach. She had eaten her Clan members. Not some humans turned into monsters. But Gori and Ogo. The clan that she rebuilt. Her kin.

They are all…

She stood at a precipice, on one side sheer, blinding rage at her loss. In her past, she would have immediately slain all those there to alleviate her suffering. Her anguish. In her old life before being captured, she would have slaughtered every single person – man, woman, child, servant – in this Clan stronghold.

In her old life…

But she was not the same woman anymore. Not the same Ogo. Not the same Overlord or even warrior. Not the same Fumi she once was. She had changed.

Her heart had softened.

She turned and ran from the edge of madness borne from grief.

Ran for the only comfort she had left in this new life she had been given.

For her Echo.

Echo was resting on a simple cloth mat alongside Rose. They were receiving odd looks from the servants in those quarters – most of whom were human, but a handful of Ayshor that took after badgers for their animalistic side were also present. They were wearing collars that said ‘Xulatar’ on them, and next to the word was a series of deep grooves.

Rose explained that in the Krekyo Dominion, those who were criminals or who participated in Unsanctioned Clan Wars were captive for a duration of no more than ten years depending on the crime committed. Then they would be given the means to return to their homeland – normally just some food and clothing.

Echo frowned as he heard this.

It’s like prison but without rehabilitation.

From the interactions he had observed, these servants were treated much better than the Crulon were in the Kingdom of Cruxia. They had free roam of the Clan’s stronghold and were treated with respect. So, they weren’t even close to slaves.

It’s better than being locked in a small cell for your crimes.

At least they could feel productive. To that end, he considered it to be somewhat humane, and the servants he chatted with idly seemed to appreciate their situation. Not being locked away in an imperial prison colony off the coast of Lestosk, where most of those serving a sentence for serious crimes were sent, was a blessing in its own right.

There was a racket outside, and Echo could clearly hear a cry that caused him to move as fast as he possibly could.

“Echo!” Fumi’s voice was filled with sorrow as she yelled out.

The door was blown from its hinges as Echo dashed outside, immediately spotting Fumi, and met her halfway as she hugged him close and sobbed into his chest.

“They’re…m…my Clan…” She relayed the horrific news through sobs and heaving breath.

The rainfall increased as if it was resonating with her sorrow. The droplets pounding down around and upon them as lightning arced overhead.

Echo held her close, trying to comfort her as best he could.

He had no idea how much she was hurting on the inside.

Fumi had built the Soju Great Clan from the rubble of its destruction. After it was destroyed, she was the lone survivor, and she was able to bring it back to a prominent position of glory. She was Overlord, and at several points, War Chief over the whole of the Krekyo Dominion.

And all of that was gone. Again. Her hard work over centuries to create something that she could call family. A family that could stand the test of time unlike her children or first husband.

Nothing but ashes and dust in the pages of history.

Rose regarded the two monsters. She had not seen Fumi this upset. The news that was whispered as the story of what happened brought her to a simmering, boiling rage.

Tiberius.

She knew this was his plan all along. Not necessarily to let the two monsters go in the first place, but to destroy the Soju clan. To bait Fumi back and hurt her in the worst possible way.

Her cool demeanor lapsed, and she ground her teeth. How dare he? Tiberius was no God. Just a man with the stolen power of one.

What right did he have to do this to her allies? To her friends?

I’ll kill you. I’ll trap your soul and torment you just like you’ve done to them.

There were Gori, Ogo, and servants who were watching the sorrowful display, and the normal stoic expressions were dour, knowing some great grief had been shared.

The Overlord walked out and put a hand gently on Fumi’s shoulder. “Maven,” he whispered just loud enough for the two monsters to hear him.

Fumi glanced back at him, the rain mixing with her tears as the sky cried with her.

“I truly am sorry about your Great Clan. But this is not the behavior an Overlord should demonstrate.” He glanced at Echo. “Are you the bed-servant?”

Echo nodded, “Something like that, your grace.”

The Overlord cracked a smile, “Your grace. I like the sound of that. Come. Tonight is for sorrow and solace.”

Echo held Fumi close as the two followed the Overlord. Their Evolution Instinct tried to activate – it had been a day since their last monster meal – but they both pushed it aside; the sorrow Fumi felt overwhelmed any other instinct or emotion.

Rickard panicked.

“Lux!” He tried to cry out.

He tried to channel his divine power to return to The Sun.

But it was for naught. His form of pure spirit had been turned corporal against his will.

Against herwill.

He struggled against the chains that now bound him, but to no avail.

“There, there,” a voice from the shadows said quietly. “No need for that. You’re in my hands now.”

“You…” Rickard recognized the silhouette, and for the first time since he had died, felt fear course through his body. The figure who had blocked his Goddess’ power from reaching him when he fought Echo in Crux Omega.

“Yes, me. Tiberius the Shaper. You’re that nasty cleric who caused me some minor pain in those tunnels nearly four years ago. I never forget a face. I will make sure you pay dearly for that.” He held a shimmering metal cube and slowly put it on Rickard’s bare chest.

Rickard struggled as the weight settled. His wings were chained, his power not responding to his call.

His connection to his Goddess – severed.

And then, the goo began to spread.

Rickard screamed as pain engulfed his whole being.

Tiberius grinned, and the servant of Lux grimaced as the words hit his ears. “Let’s see what type of monster you’ll make for my creations to feed on.”

He lifted the cube as Rickard’s flesh distorted, his body warping and mutating as his angelic form was transformed. A form that, perhaps, in time, Lux would have granted Rickard. Giving flesh to his spirit once more.

But Rickard was not a perfect servant of Lux.

He still felt anger.

He still felt hate.

Hatred for one man.

And that visceral disgust of Echo festered within him. A mote of rage that the monstrous instinct latched on to.

If not for his anger, he could have ripped his soul free of this form once more and returned to the glory of his Goddess.

Rickard’s mind left him. All that was left of the once-cleric of Lux was a singular emotion.

Rage.

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