Chapter 42: Brute Force Politics & A Lunar Expedition

His challenge to the High-King of the dwarves wasn’t just a challenge towards the royalty and leaders of their people, but a spit upon their culture, their honor and the very dwarven way of life itself. To hate greenskins and dark elves was a mere fact of life in the under-mountain; every dwarf participated in it and performing the ‘census’ upon their enemies was ingrained into their very being.

So, when Orodan marched up to the high table, ignored the High-King and made a show of insulting their actions? Every dwarf who sat at the lower tables was deeply offended. The High-King had been snubbed, and their kingdom bore the stain of disrespect at being chastised so publicly.

Needless to say, the walk down to the reinforced battleground involved every dwarf in sight glaring death towards Orodan Wainwright. Did he care? Not in the slightest. Were any of them bold enough to step forth and challenge him themselves? No.

Not when their ancestor Thavri Grimbreaker would fight in their stead.

Beside him on the walk down, were Balastion Novar and Vespidia Aulmalexis.

“You realize this will damage our working relationship with one of our closest allies?” the first emperor asked. “Could you not have approached this situation in a more diplomatic manner?”

“Why waste time bandying words with those who aren’t worthy of them?” Orodan asked in turn. “I saw something I found disgusting, and I acted like a warrior would, that’s all. Tact and diplomacy are nice for the situations which call for them, but this isn’t one of them.”

“I’ll have to disagree. The alliance between my empire and the under-mountain holds is paramount to keeping the elves off of Inuan,” Balastion explained. “Without their strength and the alliance against Eldiron, the threat we pose individually would be lessened and might embolden the elves to make an attempt upon my crown.”

“It always boils down to strength, doesn’t it?” Orodan asked. “If it’s strength you need, then I’ll show you I’m stronger than this Thavri Grimbreaker. Power dictates relations, doesn’t it? Then I’ll prove I have the most power of all your allies.”

Balastion said nothing in return, but Vespidia seemed to have a smile on her face as Orodan stepped into the arena, opposite from Thavri Grimbreaker.

Orodan recognized him upon sight now that Thavri was in full armor wearing a crown. This was the dwarf who fought the Eldritch Avatar and brought a battery of powerful artillery with him to the fight. His foe looked almost comical in how wide he was; built like a bulky, if short, walking fortress.

Orodan had a feeling that this dwarf was at least a quadruple-Grandmaster, and the various enchanted weapons and armor he held were no joke. His Enchanting was at level 47, and Orodan was good enough to at least recognize the profundity of the runic enchantments which lined the weaponry. Runic Enchanting was a separate skill from regular Enchanting, much like how Body Enchanting was. It was a higher rarity, and on Inuan, the dwarves were the undisputed masters of the craft.

“The runic enchantments are impressive, are they not? Far superior to even the strongest weapons you’d find in the royal vaults of your human nations,” Thavri spoke. “Best me and I’ll gift you one such weapon for yourself.”

“I’ll have to decline. I quite like my sword and shield; they’ve been with me through thick and thin. Down the line I intend to enchant my weaponry for myself, and while Runic Enchanting sounds powerful, I intend to learn soul energy enchantments first before I split my focus,” Orodan replied. “Besides, relying on equipment isn’t my style.”

“Hoh? Not often someone declines a Runic Enchanted weapon from the dwarves,” Thavri said. “Even your emperor only has three such weapons in his Empire. Well, your loss.”

“You’re being awfully cordial. Attempting to soften my blows with words?” Orodan asked.

“Far from it! In fact, I’ll take great offense if you don’t bring your full power to bear against me. My beard tingles at what my instincts tell me about you,” Thavri said. “I’m looking forward to this fight.”

Orodan’s own face erupted in a vicious grin.

“I agree, so let’s not waste time, how about we just get to it?” he asked.

A glint of battle-lust entered the ancient dwarf’s eyes, and Orodan’s own blood sang in desire for battle. Hells, he hadn’t had a single proper fight since starting this loop and his warrior spirit screamed for this chance.

The poor announcer who would’ve signalled the start took a hint and immediately fled right before the wards were activated to protect the audience.

Both practically flew at one another. Orodan with a Flash Strike, and Thavri with a similar skill which gave his traversal a blazing magma effect. The titanic collision immediately shook the defensive wards to the point of near-breaking and multiple Grandmasters of warding had to step in and reinforce them.

It wasn’t a pretty battle like Orodan might have had against a more calculated mortal foe. It wasn’t a battle against a mindless beast in melee. No, this…

…was a fight between two killers.

Each and every move was calculated to deliver as much raw damage to the other party as possible. Thavri Grimbreaker wielded a two-handed greataxe, and while one would think this meant the dwarven ancestor would be the more aggressive of the two, it was the opposite. Orodan was the one surging forward with raw aggression. Both sword and shield were empowered with Absolute Soul Dominion to be wielded as weapons of raw savagery. All-Consuming Rage, All-Strikes and Endless Blitz came together with Eternal Soul Reactor fuelling everything. He was an endless tide of violence and rage which no other mortal he knew of could match.

His old mentor Arvayne Firesword had once told him he fought like a maniac with a death wish. The sheer violence and ferocity of his combat style made fighting Orodan Wainwright a daunting affair. Even if one was better in melee than Orodan, they’d still have to pay a price for daring to engage him. The sheer aggressiveness of his style was overwhelming for most opponents and meant that even Combat Grandmasters would have to take damage in any melee trades.

Instead of correcting this style of combat, Orodan had decided long ago to simply lean into it and make it his own.

A bash of the shield was followed by a knee to the stomach, which transitioned into another All-Strike, and fourteen of Orodan immediately came into being and began savagely pounding the dwarf. For each attack Thavri sent, Orodan returned fourteen, and then some. He simultaneously swung the sword while throwing elbows and knees and oftentimes a single swing from Orodan came with a follow-up elbow on the carry-through and a shoulder-check for good measure. There were no moments where an attack wasn’t delivered.

To his credit, the dwarf was tough. Probably the single toughest living being Orodan had ever attacked. He was doing absolutely no damage whatsoever with any of his physical attacks. Thavri Grimbreaker took blows without flinching and returned his own attacks in kind, even if he was suppressed by Orodan’s raw aggression. And while the dwarf’s own offense was nothing compared to All-Consuming Rage, Orodan had to grudgingly admit, Thavri’s armor and pure defensive work was superior to his own.

The audience gasped and clamored as the two clashed, but to onlookers who had deft eyes they noticed the dynamic at play. Thavri was on the defense, and Orodan was a rabid wolf seeking to slaughter his prey.

The dwarven ancestor was a quadruple-Grandmaster, and he was strong, but not quite as naturally powerful as some of the quadruple-Grandmaster monsters Orodan had fought. However, what did make up the difference and make the dwarf a threat, was the runic gear that covered every part of him. Armor which caused Orodan’s blows to glance off ineffectively, jewelry which rejuvenated and healed the dwarf, and a greataxe which caused multiple elemental assaults upon Orodan with each blow struck.

On a battlefield Orodan could’ve gleefully ignored this metal bucket and slaughtered Thavri’s allies with impunity. But when forced into a duel against such a stalwart and tough foe? Orodan had no choice but to stand his ground and crack this near-impenetrable shell.

It was like fighting a turtle; an angry bearded one which fought back viciously at every turn and refused to take even a scratch.

Two minutes passed, and none of his attacks left a mark. Orodan’s assault would’ve at least severely harmed any other quadruple-Grandmaster monster by now.

“Incredible… such savage aggression… a rage skill more powerful than any I’ve seen in my long life! Since when do humans make such good warriors?!” Thavri exclaimed. “Who are you? No matter what I’ve done to look into you the only record that our agents come up with us a poor militia man from the Republic. Are you a transmigrator? A reincarnator? None of the signs exist, but how else can you be so powerful?”

“Less talking, more fighting you damned turtle,” Orodan said as he received a blow which carved his chest open and set it alight with flame, had it crackling with electricity, and had lethal blades of wind emanate from the wound. Of course, his resistance skills made the elemental portion of the assault pointless. “Your fancy enchantments won’t matter in the end.”

“And my blows should be harming you far more than they are. Resistance skills as well? For all these elements?” Thavri asked. “In tandem with your healing, you’re a true roach. Let’s see how long you can last.”

Wrong challenge to make of Orodan.

Yes, this battle would be frustratingly slow. Thavri’s runic enchanted gear ran on soul energy, which Orodan’s All-Consuming Rage couldn’t drain dry. And the dwarf had an enchantment on him which swiftly rejuvenated his vitality even as Orodan drained it. This was looking to be a battle of attrition.

But it was the sort of battle nobody would defeat Orodan Wainwright in.

The battleground was reinforced, meant to take the attacks of triple-Grandmasters, and not be scratched. Orodan’s Endless Blitz of All-Strikes tore it apart, and only the forcefields protecting the audience spared them. Yet, despite his titanic assault which could destroy a smaller nation with the collateral… Thavri’s pristine armor and helm remained unmarred.

“Truly a turtle… this will take a while,” Orodan said as he fought.

“You speak as though your own energy won’t run out long before then,” Thavri remarked as he received a pounding but endured.

“I’ve bested Gods in contests of energy generation,” Orodan stated. “Let’s see how you compare.”

Whether Thavri believed his outrageous claim or thought him a fool, there were few words exchanged after that.

Orodan felt he could use Spatial Fold or Whirlpool Whirlwind to potentially begin prying his opponent’s gear off or interfere with it in some way. Unfortunately, combatants typically had anti-spatiomancy items, and even if he could… it was a cheap way out of a fight between warriors that Orodan was enjoying very much.

Cheap tricks were unnecessary. Orodan would beat Thavri Grimbreaker toe to toe without any need for schemes.

Thirty minutes of combat passed, and Orodan finally succeeded in creating a minor scratch upon the dwarf’s breastplate. Thavri’s shocked reaction was telling in how often that happened.

Orodan’s own attacks weren’t the difference-maker, Warrior’s Reciprocity was. Each time the dwarf landed a blow of his greataxe upon him, the backlash bypassed all armor and enchantment protections to strike at Thavri directly. His foe’s only saving grace was that whatever enchanted rings and jewelry he wore allowed him to quickly recover, and once he realized how strong the backlash was, he moderated his own blows accordingly.

A shame, for baiting Thavri into hitting him enough might’ve been the quickest way to otherwise end the battle.

One hour of combat passed as Orodan focused on enlarging the existing scratch on the armor, and it slightly widened. The dwarf showed no signs of exhaustion, and Orodan’s Space Mastery alongside Vision of Purity allowed him to vaguely get a feel for a source of power from somewhere else connecting to Thavri’s gear and powering the enchantments.

Thavri himself was good, but not quite at the level of some of the more melee-oriented quadruple-Grandmasters Orodan had battled. Without the gear, Orodan felt he could best the dwarf rather handily and within a reasonable timeframe too. The enchanted gear was what gave Thavri an edge and made him so unbelievably tough. It was what allowed him to be the last one remaining against the Eldritch Avatar in Orodan’s first battle against it.

And unfortunately for Orodan this meant skill level gains were a bit lacklustre compared to what he might get against a more capable opponent. It was akin to hitting an impenetrable rock whose offence wasn’t much threat, tedious work but not as helpful for skill levels. If anything, this battle wasn’t difficult in terms of the pressure he was under, but time-consuming for just how absurdly durable the dwarf was.

It definitely painted a picture of how powerful the Eldritch Avatar was for being able to kill Thavri as quickly as it did.

Six more hours passed. Many members of the audience had left by now, although scrying eye orbs were setup in the stands, alongside a permanent teleporter for people to return at the slightest hint of any critical development.

All awareness of the audience was gone, and only Thavri existed in Orodan’s mind as the time passed and signs of actual damage were beginning to show on the dwarf’s breastplate. All-Consuming Rage continually drained the dwarf’s mana and vitality, and although the enchantments replenished his foe’s vitality, Orodan could sense that whichever distant source of energy powered them, was not endless.

Twelve more hours passed, and Orodan gained a level in Bulwark Physical Resistance and another in Endless Blitz. The gain of a level in Endless Blitz increased the pressure on his foe, and he simply kept battering away with increasing intensity. Frankly, this was one of the rare extended battles where Orodan was the one bullying his opponent over a drawn-out period of time, and the dwarf actually hoped to outlast him.

The one-day mark passed, and that then turned into two more days. In total, they’d spent three days fighting before Thavri finally spoke: his armor looking very battered by this point yet still maintaining functionality and integrity.

“Unnatural… whichever God empowers you must possess incredible amounts of power,” the dwarf spoke. “None of the Prime Five should be capable of empowering you this much. Which God do you call upon?”

“No Gods but the power of my own soul,” Orodan replied. “Beginning to falter at the thought of outlasting me, are you?”

No reply came, and the battle simply resumed. Sword and shield crashed into enchanted armor like a tsunami hitting a mountain, and Orodan continued his work.

It was four more days later, at the one-week mark, that the flow of battle changed.

Orodan had been fighting Thavri Grimbreaker for an entire week straight now, and he felt he was on the cusp of getting somewhere. He was fast approaching a tipping point, mainly because Vision of Purity and Space Mastery gave him a vague idea that the amount of energy flowing into Thavri’s enchanted gear had begun slowing. That Orodan was successfully outcompeting the energy source.

His assaults redoubled, and within the hour, he noticed the first signs that something was beginning to give.

An alarm blared out across the arena and a magically amplified announcement played.

“Code Dark, defences have lost power, switching to backup batteries.”

Orodan’s eyes took on a downright predatory look as he sent Thavri a piercing gaze.

“Oh? Your city’s defences have lost power? How unfortunate, and how improbable for a dwarven hold,” Orodan remarked. “Tell me, you wouldn’t be drawing power from your city for this battle, would you?”

Thavri gave no reply, but the dwarf’s fighting became fiercer for a moment, and Orodan soon realized that it was to create room for the introduction of a new factor into the fight. A ludicrously oversized artillery cannon which was the size of a house, pulled from Thavri’s spatial ring.

His opponent leapt into the air and aimed the artillery piece downwards, and Orodan realized this was to avoid hitting the crowd, despite them being behind a barrier. The following roaring shot which completely shattered the ground and continued for a quarter mile despite the battleground’s reinforcement, was enough answer for why.

Thankfully, it was a shot powered by mana. Although it was the strongest mana-based attack Orodan had ever received, causing some minor damage to even him despite his resistance skill.

The amount of mana in the shot made the ancient machine’s mana core look like a grain of sand in the desert.

[Mana Resistance 62 → Mana Resistance 63]

“Mana Resistance too? You really are an impossibility…” Thavri muttered. “No matter, we have a secondary firing mode for a reason.”

The last of whatever dwindling energy source Thavri was drawing upon was pulled into the cannon, and Orodan didn’t hear the sound this time.

Chiefly because his ears and brain were turned to mush alongside the rest of his body. Soul energy. The secondary firing mode of that artillery piece was soul energy.

He hadn’t really noticed that these cannons could use soul energy when they were used in the last long loop against the Eldritch Avatar, primarily since it didn’t have Mana Resistance and there was no reason to switch to a costlier firing mode. But, Orodan had to admit the innovation of these dwarves was lethal. Both shots fired by the gigantic cannon were of similar power, but either one could kill a triple-Grandmaster with a direct hit and severely injure any of the tough quadruple-Grandmaster monsters he’d seen.

Yet again Orodan found himself realizing just how monstrous the Eldritch Avatar was. For it to survive an entire battery of these weapons in the last loop alongside everything else thrown at it, was just ludicrous.

Harmony of Vitality reformed him instantly, and Thavri’s eyes behind the visor of his helm widened like saucers.

“How?!” the dwarf asked. “To recover from even such grievous wounds…”

“Don’t act as though you haven’t been holding back either,” Orodan remarked. “You think I don’t know you have yet to call upon your own divine power?”

“You speak of things you shouldn’t know,” Thavri replied, and his guard lowered for a moment, although Orodan refused to take advantage as it’d be unfair. “How about this… I propose a wager.”

“Why? We could just fight till one of us is truly broken,” Orodan replied. “Long as this has been, I haven’t had such a good brawl in a while. Even if fighting you is like breaking my weapons against a rock.”

“Aye, we could fight till the end… but my hold’s energy reserves aren’t worth my pride,” Thavri said. “And I would not offend Varkir by drawing upon his power for a mere honor duel. Not that the advantage gained would be very great with that skill of yours.”

Thavri referred to Divine Resistance of course, since even the strongest of Avatars would have their main source of power neutered by the skill. And those Avatars who could hit hard enough to affect him through it would simply give him more levels in the skill. A shame: Orodan was looking forward to seeing Thavri pull out all the stops, but it wasn’t to be.

“What’s your wager then?” Orodan asked.

“One full salvo from the first battery of our artillery regiment. The pinnacle of dwarven firepower,” Thavri said. “Survive, and you can dictate whatever we do and take whatever treasure you desire from our hold. Fail… and you die.”

If the dwarf was expecting Orodan to balk, he’d be mistaken. If the same energy source that had been powering Thavri’s armor thus far was the source for the artillery, then it didn’t have much left either. Perhaps one good full power salvo was all it would be capable of.

An elated grin took over Orodan’s face. How could he back down from this challenge?

The Eldritch Avatar had also survived multiple full power salvos from the artillery batteries of the dwarves. And if Orodan intended to defeat it, he needed to walk in its footsteps and grow to become capable of the same feats it accomplished.

“I can take whatever I desire you say?” Orodan asked. “Give me the strongest salvo you’re capable of then!”

“You doubt my word? If you survive this, you can empty our vaults!” Thavri yelled. “Let’s see how far your limitless vitality truly extends.”

In actual combat, lining up even a single artillery cannon towards him would be incredibly difficult at best if he was moving around and changing position. Doubly so if he decided to use Whirlpool Whirlwind or Spatial Fold to target the cannons directly. They were powerful weapons, but incredibly vulnerable to directly being targeted by hostiles.

Artillery was thus used most effectively in battle when the ones utilizing it had time and space to deploy the weapons. This involved either setting them up in pre-arranged defensive positions, or having allied forces provide cover for the deployment all while hoping enemy ranged troops or artillery didn’t catch wind and blow them to bits.

To stand there and allow artillery to be lined up against him? Tactically unwise.

Orodan wasn’t stupid. He could tell this was an obvious setup designed to kill him. As the dwarven artillery cannons were lined up and aimed in his direction he stood there and counted how many. Fifteen. He knew that an actual battery of them contained ten cannons. He didn’t comment on their obvious attempt to stack the odds against him.

Balastion gave him a perplexed look, as though asking permission to step in and stop this nonsense, yet Orodan would have none of that. Whether it was an apparent attempt to kill him or not, Orodan Wainwright had only one way of doing things.

The stupid way.

And this would also be great training for Harmony of Vitality.

“Should I take a nap? Open fire already!” Orodan shouted. “Make sure your aim’s on-point. It would be embarrassing if you missed a single shot. Then again, aiming at hapless orcs and drow mustn’t do much for the skill levels.”

It was flagrant disrespect, but with how red some of the artillery dwarves’ faces became, it worked to motivate them.

On Thavri’s end, the dwarven ancestor’s eyes contained naught but suspicion. The oldest of the Grimbreaker line wasn’t stupid. Seeing Orodan act so maniacally even with such odds arrayed against him doubtlessly set the dwarf on edge. Perhaps he feared Orodan actually surviving?

Not a good outcome for the dwarven treasury or their honor.

It took fifteen minutes for the entire setup to be complete and the whole time even Vespidia was beginning to give Orodan worried looks as though questioning his sanity or hoping he had a plan in place.

Orodan did in fact have a plan.

It involved facing their artillery barrage head-on like a true warrior.

“Orodan Wainwright… you fight well, incredibly well. Never have I seen someone handle the basic sword and shield to such a standard of excellence,” Thavri praised. “But, against the artillery barrage of the dwarves you’ll face your toughest test yet. Open fire!”

Using the shield for its intended purpose wasn’t something he often did in his rather aggressive style of combat, but in a situation like this it was called for. Absolute Soul Dominion empowered it to its maximal strength, and Orodan braced himself to receive the salvo.

One moment the wrecked battleground was calm. The next, Orodan’s arm felt as though it would rip off from the force pummelling his shield. The cannons didn’t all fire in sync, and some of the more eager cannon crews went a little early since they were rather hasty in wanting to kill him.

Compared to taking the shot on his body which turned him to mush, his shield did a better job at defending. His faithful wooden and steel rimmed defense was an extension of his soul while under the effects of Absolute Soul Dominion, and given how powerful his soul was, for once Orodan could choose to hide behind the shield and use it for blocking attacks.

But, simply surviving wasn’t enough. This was an excellent opportunity for training, and Orodan intended to use it for just that.

His shield partially blocked the titanic soul energy empowered artillery shots and Orodan allowed much of them to slip past and strike. Immediately, the parts which were hit turned to a puddle, and Harmony of Vitality was hard at work in reforming them despite the continuous barrage.

Thirty seconds passed.

[Harmony of Vitality 88 → Harmony of Vitality 89]

These gains were quite good!

“Angle it better on the next shot, your aim needs work,” Orodan said as he reformed even faster thanks to the boost from the level gain. He pointed to a particular cannon crew captain. “You there, stop firing before everyone else just because you want to kill me. Working with the other crews increases the power of the shots.”

Another barrage came his way, and the improvements were apparent, even if it wasn’t enough to cause skill level gains. If Orodan truly took a full barrage without defending, he might’ve been killed prior to gaining one more level in Harmony of Vitality. But now, with Absolute Soul Dominion his weapons were as powerful as his soul was, and they could survive such barrages. If anything, his body’s durability was the weak point.

Which meant he could actually use his shield as a defensive implement now.

“Hold! That’s enough! Cease this treachery Tharv-”

Balastion’s complaints were interrupted as the dwarf’s eyes began glowing. The artillery cannons were empowered to the point where they looked ready to explode. One more barrage came his way, although this one was strangely ineffective. Chiefly because it was composed of divine energy.

The divine energy washed over him and his shield, and it was strong enough to seriously char his flesh even through his Divine Resistance.

[Divine Resistance 12 → Divine Resistance 14]

The cannons themselves became molten slag upon firing that salvo, unable to handle so much raw power.

And then, a new voice made itself known. His spatial ring trembled and vibrated oddly as well.

“Enough.”

Surprisingly, the voice came from Thavri himself, or from his mouth anyhow.

Thavri looked somewhat unhappy at the interruption, but when his eyes glowed and a God used his body as a conduit, what could the ancient dwarf do but obey?

“Varkir… to descend for this? I thought you’d abandoned this world entirely…” Balastion remarked as he stepped onto the battleground.

The dwarven God of Crafting, Endurance and Honor; Varkir. He wasn’t a permanent fixture in dwarven politics like the Prime Five were in the human nations of Inuan. However, from the rumors he’d heard, the dwarven God was incredibly powerful if aloof.

“I’d almost forgotten about this world since I cleaned it of undesirable divine influences,” the God of Crafting spoke. “For this child to draw upon my strength for empowering a mere battery of artillery? It was worth a look. And what do I see? My power used ineffectually against a warrior with the Divine Resistance skill. You, what is your name?”

Varkir was addressing Orodan directly, and those among the audience who heard could only gasp and mutter as his Divine Resistance was spoken of so openly.

“I am Orodan Wainwright,” he answered. “Your Chosen here wagered that he would surrender if I could survive a single salvo from his artillery battery. I survived two salvos, and he drew upon your power for the third.”

“Reneging upon an agreement? Quite dishonorable…” Varkir muttered. “This child is not my Chosen, but someone I gave Blessing to as a favor for a loyal champion of mine who is his ancestor. He assured me his progeny would be a good leader for my people upon this world… but I see that judgement was made erroneously.”

In other words, Thavri looked to be in hot water with his God. Well, it wasn’t any of Orodan’s business how Varkir chose to discipline Thavri Grimbreaker, and neither did he see anything wrong with it. After all, the dwarven ancestor did in fact go past the terms of their agreement. That being said…

“While it isn’t my business, I hope you can show him some clemency,” Orodan remarked. “I gained a level in a critical skill thanks to his barrage.”

The glowing eyes of the Avatar of Varkir fixated upon Orodan for a second. And then a resounding divine laugh echoed throughout the battleground.

“Truly… you humans never fail to entertain me no matter what world you’re in,” Varkir remarked in an amused tone. “Very well… no death for this stain upon dwarven honor today, if only because of your request.”

Orodan nodded in appreciation.

“You speak of other worlds? I know there exists a vast cosmos beyond Alastaia, but for your influence to spread over more than one? You must be powerful,” Orodan remarked. “Are you aware of the descending Eldritch threat?”

“The universe is vast, and this world is but a drop of water in the ocean. Alastaia is not the only world threatened by the Eldritch; nor are the Eldritch the only threat beyond,” Varkir said. “In time, you may come to learn of such things Orodan Wainwright. Once your time to move beyond this world comes… find me. There is a place in my ranks for a warrior who has Divine Resistance.”

Orodan expected more words from Varkir, perhaps questions about his strength. But the dwarven God did none of that and instead simply left. The glow faded from Thavri Grimbreaker’s eyes, and the dwarven ancestor came to and looked at Orodan with nervousness in his eyes.

“Now then, about our agreement.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He had elected to take a simple runic enchanted dagger from their vaults, among the most basic of items. Partly because robbing them blind would make him feel like a raider and a thug, and partly because he only needed one very basic runic enchantment to study in the hopes of increasing his own Enchanting skill.

It was what he found deeper, past their vaults, that sickened him.

Orodan was beginning to grow a severe dislike for the under-mountain confederation. It was difficult to avoid having a negative opinion of all dwarves after what he’d seen in the deeper parts of the hold.

Thavri was too shaken by his God’s descent to stop him, and the dwarven ancestor was almost studiously keeping to his word in allowing Orodan to dictate whatever happened and to take whatever treasure he wanted.

Orodan made a mental note to put an immediate end to the sickening things he saw underneath the Dokuhan Mountains in each longer loop. Thousands of orcs and drow, chained and kept as slaves while attached runic devices harvested soul energy from them, all while the intricate runic enchantments and wards upon the holding pens prevented the influence of Gods such as Malzim from reaching and perhaps freeing these souls from their torment.

He now knew where exactly Thavri had been acquiring the power to fuel his enchantments throughout their battle.

Needless to say, every bit of the foul operation was torn down and the worst of the dwarves running the operation had their fates decided by the orcs themselves, with Orodan providing the execution.

High-King Vokrim had attempted to step in only to be backhanded across the cavern, and there were perhaps a handful of other dwarves who protested vehemently only for Orodan to give them a beating too. Disgusting, and he would make sure to eliminate this sick practice whenever he could, even if it involved war against the dwarves.

Many of the drow had been tortured rather badly too, and while Orodan disagreed, he could understand the dwarves taking it out on their enemies. What Orodan didn’t understand whatsoever, was the torture many of the poor orcs went through. Whether it was sadistic overseers or the natural dwarven hatred for their kind, these orcs had also suffered in captivity. Almost all of them were victims of the ‘census’ and had done nothing to offend the dwarves besides exist upon the peaks of the Dokuhan Mountains.

The biggest kicker, however, was that the dwarves had captive dragons. Yes, they were notorious dragon slayers, and the Novarrian Soaring Flame dragon flight knew not to fly anywhere near dwarven territories lest they face the wrath of artillery and dragon killer crews. But for them to capture dragons and hold them in secret?

Eldramir, patriarch of the Novarrian Soaring Flame dragon flight, stood before Orodan, Balastion Novar and High-King Vokrim and his council of Grandmaster dwarves. And the dragon was enraged beyond measure.

“I should burn your entire under-mountain hold to ash! Foul bearded murderers all!” Eldramir roared in fury. “Balastion… many times have I made my displeasure known about your alliance with these mountain-dwelling vermin; and now you give me reason to detest them even further?! Two of these dragons are from my dragon flight, gone missing for almost a decade now. They were nowhere near the Dokuhan Mountains when this occurred.”

Balastion himself looked rather resigned with the situation. After Orodan’s thorough defeat of Thavri Grimbreaker, the first emperor’s tune about the alliance had noticeably shifted, and the man now considered appeasing Orodan’s wishes to take priority above the dwarves. In line with that, he had said nothing as Orodan carried out executions of certain foul dwarves who’d engaged in unsavory practices.

“I understand, Eldramir. We shall discuss the matter of suitable recompense for these offences at a later time,” Balastion replied. “Orodan, might I speak with you in private?”

He nodded, and the two of them went off a distance and Balastion cast a silencing bubble around them.

“Did you know?” was the first thing Orodan asked.

“I did not. And lying to you about that would only harm me in a later loop once you discovered the truth,” Balastion replied, and Orodan chose to believe him. “I knew they had something under the mountain hidden from my crown’s sight but did not know what. You’re displeased.”

Orodan simply sighed.

“I’m not displeased with you but with the situation. Rather… it’s not my way to fret, stomp my feet and point fingers in a show of outrage in such matters,” Orodan replied. “The world is a cruel place, and the dwarves’ maltreatment of orcs and drow is but one part of it. Expecting Balastion Novar, the first emperor to solve everything would be quite entitled and whiny of me. But I’ll say this, in future loops I’ll deal with this myself.”

In other words, it was what it was. Orodan wasn’t about to lecture the ancient emperor on how to run a nation. Sanctimonious lecturing was a juvenile thing to do. If Orodan didn’t like something, he would intervene and stop it, solving the problem himself. Lecturing others for their non-interference was just weak. And if Varkir also knew about it and was complicit… Orodan would take the dwarven God to task in the future as well.

Balastion had a noble goal in attempting to forge a world of peace, but until he resolved such situations, the man’s dream would remain unrealized.

“At the very least it’ll earn you great favor with the various dragon flights of Inuan,” Balastion spoke. “I can already see Eldramir regarding you with more respect than he does most mortals.”

“I’m not in it for approval; I saw something which displeased me, and I acted, that’s all it was,” Orodan replied. “Standing by and acting as though something isn’t my problem or attempting to be diplomatic isn’t my way.”

“I hope you do not throw diplomacy to the wayside entirely during our upcoming meeting with the elves,” Balastion said with a jovial tone. “They are strong, and a battle this close to the Eldritch’s arrival would be counterproductive for both sides.”

“I don’t approve of their imprisonment of Faraine for selfish reasons… but the time for that issue is nearer to the end of the year,” Orodan replied. “Anyhow, I doubt you wanted to hear me prattle on about my plans, so what did you drag us into a silencing bubble for?”

“Merely to say that our fates are now entwined. After your display with Thavri Grimbreaker I’ve decided to throw my lot in with yours,” Balastion said. “You are… strong. I instinctively sensed some of it when we met for the very first time, but to actually see you fight? Your abilities are beyond what your skills would suggest.”

Orodan decided against any questions comparing his strength to Balastion’s. Throughout all their conversations the first emperor had never given too much detail about his own combat strength, and Orodan understood that the man was playing his cards close to his chest. Whether to avoid giving any details to the elves or to Orodan himself, he didn’t know. Still, Balastion could keep his secrets, and Orodan felt no need to pry.

“Well, as I said… I don’t intend to lecture you on what you do. But if I see something I dislike, I’ll intervene regardless of the consequences,” Orodan said. “Throwing your lot in with me is risky business. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Considering that the entirety of Eldiron’s spy network has pulled out of our continent thanks to you, I feel I’ve made the right decision,” the first emperor said. “With you joining us in battle, the Eldritch threat needn’t be so insurmountable.”

“I hope not… but every time I fight it, I’m reminded in some new way about just how powerful it is,” Orodan said comparing his own durability in the face of the dwarven batteries to the Eldritch Avatar’s toughness against them. “Admittedly, I have certain advantages it doesn’t, and the gap is ever shortening.”

“Come now, let’s not engage in defeatism,” Balastion said. “You won’t fight alone but alongside allies. And we have a plan of action which will deprive it of many of its advantages.”

“Fair enough… let’s speak of more important matters though,” Orodan said. “I was fighting for a good while… the postponement of the diplomatic meeting didn’t inconvenience you, did it?”

“A small matter when the elves also received valuable intel on how you fight and what your capabilities are,” Balastion said, and continued once he saw the look on Orodan’s face. “Yes, they’ve left Inuan, but acquiring a scrying eye recording of the battle isn’t very hard. Not when there were so many members in the audience, and you were fighting for an entire week straight.”

“Is it tomorrow then?”

“Yes, we’ve agreed to finally have the meeting tomorrow.”

Orodan hadn’t stuck around to see it, but from what he’d been told, the orcish tribes had been left alone after his thrashing of Thavri Grimbreaker and the freeing of all captives beneath the Dokuhan Mountains. Besides their shattered pride, the under-mountain confederation hadn’t suffered much material loss from Orodan’s visit. He’d bested their strongest dwarf and killed a few dozen sadistic dwarves, but that aside the worst they suffered was the destruction of a battery of powerful cannons thanks to Thavri’s own last ditch attack.

Balastion, Vespidia and himself left the under-mountain confederation of the dwarves behind as they made way for the meeting spot in a grand cavern which was on the border between the dwarves and the drow. Spatial Fold underground would cause widespread devastation at Orodan’s current level of control, so he resorted to manual travel.

Thavri had elected to not come along, and Orodan was fine with that. The ancestral dwarf was likely dealing with the fallout from what had occurred, and in return the drow had agreed to not send their most powerful representative either.

The dwarves and the drow had been battling for control of the underground beneath the Dokuhan Mountains for many years now. Even before the current war started, the two factions were always at odds as rivals. As the party moved forward the ornate and ostentatious decor of the dwarves began to fade, and the tunnels took on a more natural look.

Near the borders dwarven decor began to show up again alongside an outpost or two, however dark elf decor also featured right on the cusp.

“Hold… I sense they have a divine artifact with them,” Balastion said. “They’ve brought the wand of Athandelu along, insurance in case they need to fight me.”

“An attempt to treacherously break the ceasefire, perhaps?” Vespidia suggested. “I don’t like this.”

“We have a way out with the spatial recall artifact we’ve brought along,” Orodan said. “Any attempts to lock down space will fail with me here.”

“It’s as Orodan says,” Balastion remarked. “The cost of attempting to attack us here would be too much to bear for them.”

Orodan’s endless power backed by Space Mastery meant no wards, enchantments or artifacts were truly capable of stopping his movements. If he wanted to Spatial Fold back to Novarria in a single step, he could, even if it would be rather destructive.

Still, there was something off, and that was the number of individuals he picked up with Vision of Purity. As per agreement, each side was to bring three people to this meeting. Yet, the Eldironans…

“I count four,” Orodan said. “Do you still want to proceed?”

Balastion took a moment before replying.

“They would not so flagrantly bring another unless there was a reason for it,” the first emperor said. “Let’s see who it is first.”

The meeting was to be held atop a gigantic bridge over an underground waterfall. It was gorgeous, the flowing water, the sparkling ore deposits which remained untouched due to territorial disputes, and the glowing mana crystals dotting the cavern walls.

The natural beauty of the scene amplified the tension between both parties. The distance slowly closed, and Orodan saw two familiar faces among the elves: the Avatars of Cithrel and Athandelu. These two were the ones who responded in the last long loop after he’d bested Othorion Evertree and inadvertently freed Faraine through Warrior’s Reciprocity. Next to them, was an elf who looked incredibly calm and carried an aura of serenity about him.

“Who’s that?” Orodan asked Vespidia.

“The first druid… leader of the elder council of Aldenil, capital of the elves,” Vespidia replied. “Be careful… he has the same Bloodline of Othorion Evertree, capable of drawing upon unbelievable amounts of divine energy without harm to himself. He’s far stronger too.”

Orodan heeded the warning and kept that in mind should time come to fight the elf.

“I do not recognize the other one,” Balastion spoke as they approached.

The last elf looked young, but something about him had Orodan’s instincts screaming in a way they never had. This elf… was incredibly dangerous, more so than anyone else present. Only the Void Horror past the first gate and the Eldritch Avatar itself gave off stronger feelings of power.

He truly itched to test himself… but the situation was improper for it.

“Greetings, Orodan Wainwright,” the first druid spoke. “I am Virion Ethweni, pleased to make your acquaintance. Balastion… Vespidia… how’ve you been?”

Orodan didn’t miss the emphasis and sarcastic intonation upon Vespidia’s name. But Ethweni? Orodan had once embarrassingly asked Othorion Evertree if his species engaged in incestuous relations given how common blonde hair and blue eyes were among the elves, and the elf had indignantly corrected Orodan that it was a common magical trait among the ‘Ethweni-blooded’ elves.

“Are you the reason why elves have blonde hair and blue eyes?” Orodan asked.

The first druid laughed gently before replying.

“I see the rumors about your headstrong nature were not inaccurate. A meeting between the great powers of two continents and the first thing you ask about is my genealogy,” Virion teased. “But… in a sense, yes. My magical influence has made the Ethweni blood rather widespread among our people. Shall we move onto more important topics now?”

Orodan wasn’t sure if that meant Virion went around sleeping with all elves magically, but he didn’t ask. He wasn’t even sure how that would work.

“Quite. I understand you’ve called this meeting so that we may come to an understanding about our respective positions,” Balastion remarked. “Especially given recent events.”

“Indeed, let us not waste time with flowery causerie,” Cithrel, God-Queen of the elves spoke. “Orodan Wainwright has the Divine Resistance skill. It isn’t mere rumor but a fact we’ve verified for ourselves when a divine artifact was used against him.”

“And your concerns with that are?” the first emperor asked.

“Who are you and what are your intentions towards Eldiron?” Cithrel asked. “No matter what our far seers and shadows report, the name Orodan Wainwright is tied to a mere militia man from the Republic. The tests for transmigrators and reincarnators have been run multiple times to no avail.”

“I’m Orodan Wainwright, the militia man from Volarbury county in the Republic,” he replied. “Your agents were correct; I really am from Ogdenborough.”

“Yet, that does not explain your strength. By all reports you were no more than a mere Apprentice a month ago,” Cithrel spoke. “For you to suddenly possess Divine Resistance and contend with the mightiest warriors of a nation does not add up.”

“Ah, that would be because I’m in-”

“Orodan! These elves are not to be so easily trusted!” Balastion exclaimed. “I won’t stop you, but at least consider the potential ramifications of this!”

“I have, and whatever the ramifications may be, I’ll batter them down with brute force if needed,” Orodan replied, and Balastion could only sigh in resignation. “Anyhow, I’m in a time loop. I wake up over and over on the day of the ancient machine’s awakening beneath Mount Castarian whenever I die. My strength is a result of being in the time loops for so long.”

“A time loop, why-”

“That makes quite some sense, friend. How many tries did it take you to acquire Divine Resistance?”

It wasn’t Virion, but the unnamed elf with an aura of extreme danger who spoke.

“Thirty tries if I recall,” Orodan answered. “Divine energy is based upon faith, resisting it then requires understanding that quality trumps quantity and modifying the soul accordingly.”

Well, there was slightly more to it than that, and plenty of accompanying deaths. It was the gist of it, however.

“Hrm… I’d never thought to try that… tell me more, please,” the elf asked.

The discussion about the time loop itself had lasted for an hour. Orodan didn’t bother regaling the elves with all the particular details he did with Vespidia and Balastion. However, they seemed to have some measure of truth-detecting capabilities and accepted all he said.

Throughout the talks, the unknown elf had never once given his name, although he was without a doubt one of the most polite and friendly elves Orodan had ever met. It was hard to consider this elf a potential enemy when he was just so pleasant and amenable. At one point he thought it a social skill, but there was no trace of one.

“Unbelievable… this time loop has allowed you to come quite far,” Cithrel spoke. “Multiple Mythical skills with Eldritch Resistance being among them? You’re the ultimate weapon against the descending enemy we face. Why not come with us? On Eldiron, we could offer you whatever incredible treasures and tutelage you require.”

“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to decline,” Orodan said. “My current loop is with Novarria, and I’ve promised Balastion my aid against the Eldritch. Hells, why don’t you join us in fighting it? With your aid victory will be closer.”

“I’m afraid neither we nor Balastion would agree to such an arrangement,” Cithrel spoke. “While there is no open war at this time… we have our disagreements which prevent us from working together side-by-side. Venturing to Novar’s Peak is out of the question.”

“Indeed… disagreements such as Faraine’s imprisonment,” Vespidia angrily spat.

“A failure like you whose ineptitude caused her to become corrupted by the Eldritch has no grounds to protest,” the serene Virion shot back. “Or have you not told your allies that Faraine took the Eldritch directly upon herself to save you from its corruption? A Goddess sacrificing herself to save a mere host… I still do not see what she saw in you.”

“You dare! She was a mother to me! Your treacherous lot have her imprisoned to this day despite her overcoming the corruption!” Vespidia snarled. “I still commune with her through her Blessing, and she slumbers in chains, but her mind is clear. The only reason she’s still imprisoned is because you need a convenient power source for that foul Bloodline of yours!”

“You know not of what you speak. Your failures were so grand that the world decided you weren’t even fit to reincarnate as one of us,” Virion insulted. “A mere single-Grandmaster after how many years? That such a talentless elf was chosen as her host…”

He tuned out the angry argument between Vespidia and Virion. Orodan wasn’t about to nobly step in and defend Vespidia’s honor or some such nonsense. She was an ancient elven reincarnator who could fight her own verbal battles.

“Ah… I apologize on behalf of Virion,” the unknown elf said to Orodan even as the two still argued. “He has a rather vicious streak when it comes to Faraine.”

“But you do have her imprisoned for use as an energy battery, don’t you?” Orodan asked.

“Correct, I won’t deny this Mister Wainwright,” the unknown elf spoke even as the Avatar of Cithrel sharply looked to him. “But I humbly ask you to consider the idea that Gods and Goddesses can be as guilty of wrongdoing as mortals are. Consequently, if someone were to have committed some great wrongdoing, should they not serve their time despite being divine?”

Orodan naturally agreed, but it then begged the question…

“What did she do?” Orodan asked.

“That… is not my place to say,” the unknown elf said. “I can agree that what she did wasn’t right, but at the same time I can also disagree with the length and severity of her punishment.”

Interesting. Perhaps the situation wasn’t as black and white as Orodan had thought and Vespidia would like him to believe. It didn’t exactly change his plan to break her free during the Inter-Academy Tournament, but it was something to consider that he was getting information from one side of this issue.

“Virion, please bring this to a close,” Cithrel gently asked, and the first druid stopped arguing with Vespidia. “Let us return to the heart of the matter. You’re in a time loop, but our original concern still stands. What are your intentions towards Eldiron, Orodan Wainwright? Now we have even more reason to believe you might attempt to free Faraine. We don’t wish to needlessly antagonize you, but we won’t tolerate an outsider meddling in our dispensation of justice.”

“Well, how about you start by telling me what exactly Faraine did to warrant being imprisoned for fifteen-thousand years,” Orodan said. “From what I saw in my last encounter with her, she didn’t sound as though she was maddened by the Eldritch. Just a little disoriented from slumbering in whatever divine shackles you have her in.”

“Even if I can see you tell the truth, it does not solve the matter of what she has done,” Cithrel spoke. “She attempted to usurp my position among the elven pantheon. Did little ‘Vespidia’ tell you that? Her original plan was to utilize the power of the Eldritch and overthrow me. Unfortunately, it went awry due to her host being so inept that she had to step in and save her, becoming corrupted by the Eldritch in the process.”

“She only sought to overthrow you because you rule the elves as a tyrant!” Vespidia protested. “Imprisoning her for so long is beyond unreasonable!”

“Child… you only cling so desperately to freeing Faraine to wipe away the shame of your own failure,” Cithrel said.

Vespidia’s rage was apparent, and Orodan saw the divine dagger manifest in her hand ready to be used against the Avatar of Cithrel. Evidently, so did Virion as a mighty beam of divine energy left the first druid’s hands, intent on pre-emptively taking Vespidia out.

Orodan stepped in-between, shield empowered with Absolute Soul Dominion, and he threw Vespidia backwards as he did.

Powerful. Well beyond the power of any other divine attack Orodan had received. Virion Ethweni, the first druid of Eldiron, possessed the same Bloodline Othorion Evertree did, and the elf had no fear of calling upon too much divine energy. Rather, he could comfortably channel it in amounts which would cause a regular Avatar to burn out a hundred times over.

The gigantic cavern they were in was completely obliterated and the very mountain exploded above to reveal blue skies.

[Divine Resistance 14 → Divine Resistance 17]

Three levels gained in one attack, as Orodan’s flesh was burnt and slightly melted despite his existing Divine Resistance. Yet, both he and his shield stood strong.

“Hrm… so that’s the power of Divine Resistance… you would be a most troublesome foe if we fought,” Virion calmly spoke. “Your little assassin drew her weapon first, what do you have to say about this Balastion?”

It didn’t help the Cithrel antagonized her into losing her cool, but the blame did squarely lie with Vespidia for rising to the words and choosing violence which she was ill-prepared for.

“Was this your plan all along, Virion? To taunt Vespidia till she snapped and then attack us?” Balastion asked. “I’ll admit that the fault lies with us, but we don’t seek battle so close to the enemy’s descent. Let us leave and let bygones be bygones.”

Orodan was confident in being able to fight the Avatars of Cithrel, Athandelu and even this Virion Ethweni off. All three of them used divine energy, and despite the collateral damage which would likely wipe out the entirety of the Dokuhan Mountains, Orodan was confident he could do it if it was just them.

The strange and friendly elf, however, was the wild card he wasn’t certain of. His instincts told him that this unnamed elf was the deadliest of the Eldiron party.

“Cease, Virion,” Cithrel ordered. “Offending Orodan Wainwright when he could very well be a time looper of great power would be unwise. We have enough enemies and need not make more. Not one who can restart from the past with us being none the wiser.”

“I apologize, Mister Wainwright… Virion is rather jumpy whenever anyone brandishes weapons towards Cithrel,” the unnamed elf said. “I believe this meeting is to be adjourned for now. I would kindly ask you refrain from attempting to free Faraine, in this loop or future ones. But if that isn’t possible, then I humbly ask you take it easy on us when you go rampaging throughout Eldiron.”

“I wouldn’t go on a rampage throughout a city full of innocents anyways,” Orodan replied.

“That speaks well of you,” the unknown elf spoke. “On that day, I’ll be glad to test myself against you. After all, I didn’t miss how you’ve been sizing me up the entire time we’ve been speaking.”

A smile graced the elf’s face as he said so. And Orodan reciprocated it.

“I do hope to match my blade against you one day. You’re strong, I can tell,” Orodan said. “For now, though, I sense Vespidia is quite angry and this meeting has run its course.”

“Indeed. Do come by Eldiron in a less volatile loop of yours, perhaps I can offer some tea and we might chat?” the elf offered, and Orodan made a note to do so in the future.

“You never introduced yourself,” Orodan said in parting as Balastion prepared the spatial recall artifact. “Who do I ask around for?”

“Ah, well it’d ruin the surprise, but I suppose you’ll find out at some point,” the elf said. “Just ask around for Cithrel’s husband and somebody will point you in the right direction.”

Cithrel’s husband? But this elf… wasn’t even a God…

Balastion’s artifact activated and pulled them away while the Eldironan party also teleported back to their continent. Orodan allowed the pull to take him back to Novar’s Peak, even if he was left with more questions than answers.

What sort of mortal was married to a Goddess?

“I must admit, human… I was not expecting the reward you asked of us to be teachings in chronomancy,” the patriarch of the Time Wind dragon flight said. “When we heard many of our number who’d gone missing over the years were found under the Dokuhan Mountains, I wished to fly over and eradicate the foul bearded gremlins myself… but alas, I stomached my temper knowing you dealt appropriate justice upon them.”

He’d spent the week doing nothing but training with the Republican-aligned dragon flight, the Time Wind. And before him was their patriarch, Kultuanir the Frozen Instant, a dragon strong enough to slay an Avatar in combat.

Unfortunately… things were going rather poorly.

“This is difficult…” Orodan muttered. “I’ve obtained Space Mastery, so why is Time Mastery so difficult?”

“You underestimate the feat you’re attempting,” Kultuanir spoke. “There is a reason why chronomancers are the rarest mages in the known world. Even Time Magic Mastery is an Uncommon rarity skill and takes dedicated students many years to acquire. For you to claim you’ll acquire not that, but Time Mastery itself within five months? Temper your expectations.”

Orodan had been sitting within a time dilation chamber and attempting to master this odd time orb for an entire week of real time. It was no easy feat and no matter how much he strained till his orifices bled; the answer just wouldn’t come to him.

“With my power… if I managed to acquire Time Mastery… what couldn’t I do?” Orodan asked. “Bring back those long since deceased? Uncover critical answers by reverting time? Reverse time for an entire nation?”

“Again, you look to the sun when you have yet to cross the clouds. Did you learn such a juvenile mindset from that idiot Eldramir? Is that what they teach in Novarria?” Kultuanir reprimanded. “I will say this; I greatly approve of your work ethic and desire to aim high, but you must temper your expectations. Now come, let’s go over the flows of time being emanated from the orb once more.”

The remainder of the session went by with no gains, but with Orodan having a deeper understanding of the time orb he was studying. Much like his studies with Space Mastery, aspiring chronomancers also had a training aid in the form of a time orb which continually emitted multiple time fields with differing speeds. The goal of students was to utilize their mana in an attempt to interact with these time fields and manipulate them. Of course, students typically learned the very basic Haste spell concurrently.

Orodan, being the difficult student he was, insisted on learning not just Time Magic Mastery, but Time Mastery. And he remained steadfast in learning Time Mastery before attempting any spells from the school of chronomancy. When it came to Spatial Fold, his spell was dramatically stronger since he’d learned Space Mastery first. Similarly, Orodan hoped to learn the fundamentals first and acquire Time Mastery before casting a spell and hoping to acquire the skill through repetition and luck.

Still, for this session he wouldn’t be achieving much else.

“I need to clear my head. We’ll continue once I return,” Orodan said. “I have a prior commitment to keep.”

“Ah yes, your visit to the moon. That space mage Destartes cannot stop blabbering about it,” Kultuanir said. “We shall reconvene upon your return. Farewell, Orodan Wainwright.”

Orodan bade the Time Wind patriarch farewell, and he made his way to the top of a nearby mountain.

The first Spatial Fold was aimed at a mountain near Novar’s Peak, and the second towards a tower of the royal citadel. Like that, in two physical steps he’d returned, crossing thousands of miles in a second. Space Mastery was rather convenient.

A short walk took him to his residential tower where his students were waiting.

“Teacher!” Zukelmux greeted. “You’ll be departing soon? I can’t believe you’re capable of using spatiomancy to teleport to the moon…”

“I want to go to the moon too…” Aliya whined.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Well, considering even the weakest monsters I saw there were at the Grandmaster-level, I don’t think it’s a good idea until you get stronger,” Orodan said. “Sorry if I couldn’t teach you much the past two weeks, but I’ve been a little busy. Once I return though, we’ll be resuming. In the meanwhile, keep training yourselves and don’t slack off.”

Both students happily agreed.

Frankly, they were making good progress.

Zukelmux was the undisputed second strongest student at Novar’s Peak Academy. He’d recently walloped Primon Cosanox in a duel and was looking to be one of Novar’s Peak Academy’s preferred spot holders for the Inter-Academy Tournament. Orodan had a feeling his goblin student would go quite far.

Aliya was quite talented and making excellent progress for her age. He’d enrolled her in a pre-academy meant for the children of nobility and she was the strongest child under thirteen years of age in the city. Her parents received many offers for her to be apprenticed to someone, but they referred them to the fact that he was her teacher and they all shut up. Nobody would be stealing his student.

Some final goodbyes were said, and Orodan made way for the border town of Jerestir where a combined research team from Novarria and the Republic was waiting.

“Before I cast the Spatial Fold,” Orodan said as he drew his book companion out of the ring. “Anything you feel I should know about the moon? We’ve been there once, but what should we be looking out for?”

“Looking into the various ruins would be a good idea,” she said as she fluttered about. “I experienced a moment of strange pain as my soul was melding recently… I think this was around the time you were fighting that dwarf.”

Orodan’s eyes immediately narrowed in thought as he drew the connection to Varkir. Perhaps the dwarven God had something to do with his companion’s current state of affairs? He shelved the thought but wouldn’t forget it.

“Good idea, anything else?” Orodan asked. “Should I keep an eye out for anyone with mismatched eyes?”

“No? What do you mean?” she asked.

“You know… like yourself? With your eyes?” Orodan asked, but then frowned when no answer came from her. “Do you… not know how your own face looks within a mindscape?”

“No, I do not, boy,” she replied. “But if you’ve seen it then I’ll trust you to keep an eye out for any clues regarding my identity.”

He nodded and stowed her away once more before a Spatial Fold was cast towards a mountain near Jerestir, and a second one was cast from the mountain downwards to the border town.

A few moments of walking brought him to the town center where the two teams were waiting. And from the expressions on the faces of both teams of researchers, tensions were rather apparent, and an argument was going on.

“And how are to be assured that this won’t be a repeat of what occurred beneath Mount Castarian?” a Republic researcher asked pointedly. “This Orodan Wainwright you’re bringing along is rather powerful… if he wanted, we would be left for dead or have an unfortunate accident befall us. It’s only right that we bring soldiers along for our protection in this current political climate.”

“I think you’re overreacting. Additional soldiers will make spatiomancy more difficult, and we’ve only budgeted for one round trip,” the Novarrian scholar countered. “Besides, there’s nothing valuable enough to warrant friction between our nations over an exploratory trip.”

“Are you dense? This will be the first ever recorded journey to the moon,” the Republican said. “Who knows what we’ll find there? There will doubtlessly be many things of value present, and the soldiers will be present to avoid us being bullied out of our rightful dues. We’re as much a part of this expedition as you are.”

“Ah, Mister Wainwright…” Destartes muttered as he approached. “I apologize for the unsightly scene. The scholars from both sides seem to be having a minor disagreement.”

“It’s not a problem Destartes. You,” Orodan said, pointing to the Republic researcher. “You can bring as many soldiers as you want but outfitting them with enchantments and gear for counteracting hostile terrain will be your problem. Making multiple trips isn’t a problem for me.”

“Oh… why that does sound acceptable…”

“And you,” Orodan said, looking at the Novarrian. “I expect to see the researchers of the Republic given first priority as Destartes is the one putting this expedition together. Any friction between either party… or I’ll personally give the offender a beating.”

[Intimidation 14 → Intimidation 15]

Good behavior assured, Orodan then turned to Destartes.

“I’m ready to leave whenever you are,” Orodan said. “Anything I should know about your expedition? I assume they’ve all been equipped for the airless environment and briefed?”

“Of course! Every single member has enchanted items to combat the hostile environment and to aid in escape,” Destartes spoke. “We even have an abundance of materials and support staff to erect a temporary fort upon our landing with gigantic spatial relay stones to help make a permanent teleporter from the moon and back without the need for your unique methods of travel Mister Wainwright.”

“I wasn’t aware teleporters could work over such long distances,” Orodan said.

“At great mana cost and expensive materials for the initial setup, they definitely can,” Destartes replied. “The old Hasmathorian Empire supposedly managed a trip to the moon once, and we’re basing our long-range teleporter blueprints off of the records we have of theirs.”

At worst, Orodan could just get everyone back home anyways.

“Alright then, any particular spot you want me to aim for? I could always land us where I went last time,” Orodan said. “There were ruins nearby.”

“An excellent starting point, let us commence whenever you’re ready Mister Wainwright… I haven’t been this excited in decades!” Destartes exclaimed, and Orodan smiled at the man’s enthusiasm as he focused in on the moon and could vaguely make out the crater he’d caused with his Spatial Fold last time.

All his empowerment skills were flared to their limits, and an overcharged Spatial Fold was cast towards the same spot on the moon he’d been to last time. He felt it connect, space was folded the entire way and then…

…he stepped through.

The first thing he noticed upon his arrival was a flock of familiar soul devouring butterflies lounging about, drinking up the ambient soul energy he’d thrown about during his initial arrival last time. Upon noticing him, they immediately flew for the hills, the difference between their relative strength levels apparent.

The second person to step through, was Destartes.

“What an exceedingly strange feeling… it’s not like a teleport where I’m going through a space tunnel, but as though I really did just take a single step and reach the moon,” Destartes said. “I still maintain my theory that you’re a God in disguise, to throw around such power so casually.”

Orodan brushed the space mage’s comments off as the rest of the expedition came through, soldiers, researchers, scouts, and support staff. They immediately got to work setting up a fort in a well-organized and professional manner.

Scouts fanned out and took stock of their surroundings, although were careful not to go far lest they run into a Grandmaster-level monster. They relayed information to cartographers who began sketching maps, and all this was relayed to the command center which was quickly erected.

Altogether, the outpost took thirty minutes to complete, and multiple laborers, construction experts and the like took professional pride in having an outpost on the moon added to their list of accolades. The entire time, Orodan maintained the Spatial Fold so that people could cross back and forth to ferry supplies as needed and a few people goofed off by stepping back and forth through the fold while having fun.

In another hour, the teleportation relay was set up and Orodan was asked to release the Spatial Fold so they could test it out. Destartes was the first one to go through, and it was only after he returned with a bouquet of roses that everyone cheered, and the mood of the expedition took a jubilant turn knowing there was an assured path home.

Orodan made a mental note to secure the space mage’s help whenever manned expeditions to foreign worlds or dimensions were called for. He seemed both passionate and competent in the matter.

“We’ve done it Mister Wainwright! Teleportation between the moon and Jerestir in the Republic of Aden is now possible!” Destartes exclaimed. “I think we’ll name this place… Wainwright’s Land.”

“That’s a bit excessive don’t you think?” Orodan asked. “I don’t actually need a point on the moon named after me.”

“Who else would we name it after but the man who’s made it all possible?” Destartes asked. “With you, a new age of magic becomes possible. Or er… soul energy I suppose, given how much offense you take to the term magic.”

Orodan charged the outpost’s mana battery to full capacity, and it would have enough to last for thousands of trips back and forth. Immediately, more people began going back and forth. Guards, soldiers, scouts, and Grandmasters from the Republic came through to visit and witness the novelty.

Orodan however had no time to stand around now that things were setup.

“Can we head out? Now that things are setup, we should get on with our expedition, no?” Orodan asked, and Destartes happily nodded.

“Agreed, let us set out at once.”

The researchers were all incredibly excited for the opportunity and simply couldn’t stop talking among themselves as they traversed the moon on their way towards an area which had multiple ruins.

“So, it’s true! The Hasmathorians were right when they said an entire civilization existed upon the moon!” one Novarrian scholar excitedly exclaimed.

“I wonder what their technology was like, their culture, their history… some of the smaller carvings we see indicate that there was frequent travel between Alastaia and the moon,” Destartes himself replied. “Anyhow, we’re at a juncture here and we have a choice of which of the three ruins nearby we’ll delve into first. Mister Wainwright, as our benefactor, any preferences?”

Two of the ruins looked rather plain… but the third had draconic statues and motifs visible even from a distance. The obvious choice.

“Let’s go with the draconic-themed ruins,” Orodan said, and Destartes nodded.

The expedition was off and approached the ruins in short order. They were gigantic, clearly built to accommodate dragons, but they also had smaller entryways meant for mortals. The buildings had evidence of aerial doors meant for flying dragons to enter through, alongside regular human-sized accommodations.

Pathfinding had gained two levels over the course of exploring.

“Incredible… the size suggests to me that this was a settlement meant for dragons, but mortals also lived here,” Destartes said. “Actual co-habitation? Even the Soaring Flame for their close alliance with Novarria do not outright sleep together.”

The few Grandmaster-level monsters within who’d made the ruins their home were all shooed away by Orodan. He felt a little thuggish for bullying them out of their abodes, but they could come back after the research was done.

Within, were gigantic stone halls adorned with carvings of various scenes. Of rebellion; humans, dwarves and dragons fighting against a ruling class of tyrannical beings. The tyrants themselves looked humanoid but… draconic?

“This almost seems like a rebel settlement,” Destartes spoke as the expedition walked down the halls. “But rebelling against who is the big question.”

Orodan had a feeling he might know the answer already as his spatial ring began to tremble once more much like it did during his battle against Thavri Grimbreaker.

The expedition walked down many more giant hallways with carvings depicting battles against a tyrannical half-dragon queen, and finally they reached what looked to be a vault of sorts. In front of them was an ominous looking golem, a guardian.

“Careful Mister Wainwright, it’s a triple-Grandmast-”

A combination of Endless Blitz and All-Strikes dealt with the issue in less than five seconds.

Destartes cleared his throat.

“Never mind… let us continue and see what this vault has to offer,” the space mage said.

The party stepped past the threshold and were met with a sight of pure wonder. A grand vault containing a plethora of treasures. Many of the treasures were decaying, but some were still useable. Some of the greedy guards attempted to rush out and grab them only for Destartes himself to yank them backwards with space magic.

“Fools! We must ensure there are no traps first!” the space mage cautioned, and Orodan agreed. “If this place was damaged by your negligence, I’d have thrown you lot into the void!”

His Vision of Purity pored through the vault and detected at least three magical wards which were promptly drained dry of mana by All-Consuming Rage.

“Should be clear, I don’t detect anything else,” Orodan declared.

“Excellent, now let’s slowly go over this vault and catalogue everything we see. Have the scrying eyes capture everything,” Destartes ordered. “Mister Wainwright, let’s approach the central altar.”

Orodan didn’t have to be told twice, particularly since the grand carving upon the wall behind the central altar had already caught his eye. As he stepped closer to it, the spatial ring on his finger shook with more violence than it ever had before.

The carving was a simple one. It had the picture of a monarch wielding a terrible sword of fell power as she oppressed the noble people of a world. Beneath, the carving was actual lettering which was carved into a plinth.

The System did its job in translating as Orodan read through it.

‘A monument to our heroic defiance against the Queen of Calamity!’

Nothing else was written, but nothing else was needed for Orodan to understand. The carving spoke for itself. After all…

…the half-dragon woman’s eyes in the carving were a mismatched white and gold.