novelraw Chapter 246: Deireadhallow’s Eve Part Three
Chapter 246: Deireadhallow’s Eve Part Three
“Please, Count Ethuvere. You have to listen to me.” Heralesse pleads with the governing lord of Urflasdat, who is a Count in the Kingdom of Ahmpur. “You must evacuate the city within the next four days, or there will be a tragic amount of lives lost.”
She is managing to keep her tone level, but the urgency is growing. There are five days at most before the mana fire will be encroaching on the city walls of the major trade hub, and from what the scouting and firefighting teams have confirmed, in agreement with Rikuto’s information, the fire consumes everything, not just wood and other plants. Even stone and dirt fuels it, and the water tankards have proven ineffective because the water simply “burns” as well.
It was difficult enough for anyone to get close to the fire due to the waves of nausea rolling through everyone, including Heralesse. Seeing no other options at the moment, she decided her time would be better spent evacuating Urflasdat.
Or, so she hoped.
“My sincerest apologies, your Majesty. Truly, I do appreciate your warning, but even if the wildfire is spreading at the rate you indicated, we have both the city wall and the river between the main part of Urflasdat. So far, the King of Ahmpur has not issued any royal decrees, so if I were to shut down and evacuate the City, not only his Majesty, but Mattarglos, the Empire, and the rest of the Eastern Trade Union would be gathering at the walls within the fortnight. I truly do apologize.”
“As I’ve tried to explain, my Lord, the mana fire is not a regular flame. It consumes everything.”
“I have seen the elven Sorcerer Senn use Gloom Inferno with my own eyes, your Majesty. No matter the source of this magic fire, it will burn itself out when its mana is depleted. Not even a Gloom Inferno spell started by that same Sorcerer would have enough mana to reach us from Centerhold.”
He’s not listening. And his sons and wife seem to be convinced as well. I know it’s difficult to accept at face value. But, if he’s wrong…
The count has both of his eldest sons, one of whom is the heir, as well as the Countess all seated across from Heralesse and her Ladies in Waiting, while the count sits at the head chair at the end of the tea table. It’s definitely a rather informal meeting, and it would be fair for him to have refused her urgent audience. Regardless, as early as it is in the morning, he agreed to meet Heralesse in his estate’s drawing room to discuss the mana fire.
That said, the meeting is admittedly a bit more precarious since Rikuto is absent. Heralesse is of true Mornistae blood, but men’s voices tend to carry more weight in most territories.
It’s a struggle, because Heralesse wants to raise her voice and scream, but she isn’t a particularly formidable woman. Getting emotional will only harm her position and her reputation. Naturally, just to get the meeting, she had to claim that they are supporting the Empire’s efforts after the mana fire was started near the fortress of Centerhold.
And, Count Ethuvere is not shy about reminding her of that fact.
“If you’ll excuse me, your Majesty. I have a great deal of work to attend to. You have our hospitality here at the manor, but I will be awaiting word from her Imperial Majesty regarding the relief efforts around Centerhold. And, if our King of Ahmpur deems it so, I will follow his decree.”
Heralesse stands up with the Count, and the others join them. She gives a polite bow, since she’s in her riding outfit instead of a dress. “Thank you for meeting with me, my Lord. If you should reconsider, the safest routes would be to evacuate towards the mountains and make for the Imperial Capital or Mattarglos. I’ve sent messengers to the Grand Premier to inform him ahead of time, just in case.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, your Majesty. Please rest well.”
“If it’s all the same to you, my Lord, I will be returning to our staging area. I need to meet up with my Royal Husband to plan our next moves to…”
“My lord! My lord! It’s urgent!” The door bursts open, and the county soldier jogs just inside and kneels. “Please, outside, my Lord. There’s something in the sky to the west.”
“Is it a demon attack?”
“We don’t know, your Lordship. It’s still pretty far out, and doesn’t seem to be approaching at typical wyvern speeds. It… appears to be a vessel.”
This final statement seems to suck all of the air out of the room as everyone absorbs the last part.
Heralesse isn’t afraid, since she has a pretty high degree of confidence that only one faction has vessels that can become airborne. Ahmpur also stayed out of any of the conflicts with the Fievegal so far, so it’s reasonable that information regarding the Fievegal’s full might hasn’t quite trickled down even among the aristocracy and royalty. If anything, it has become diluted information, twisted into an unbelievable fantasy by the rumors carried by troubadours and the historical intrigue and storysharing being performed by bards and other scholars. Quite often, especially as the number of towns, cities, and borders increases, the stories heard by troubadours from the bards, shared as song and poetry in the next town, become the foundation of the next bard’s starting information. And, so the cycle goes as a feat or event becomes increasingly more exaggerated or biased in either direction, until flying sky ships that can slay dragons and carry entire armies directly into the castles and capitals of the world.
Ironically enough, while the airships are slower and would be easier to attack with magic before they can land, the seemingly exaggerated parts of the story aren’t far off. According to some information Heralesse picked up at the Citadel, Reignleif was hit with a specialized magic cannon that was able to knock her from the sky on Wenlianna’s first attempt to design it. If Daniel’s artillery were installed on any surface of the vessels…
“If it’s an airborne vessel,” starts Heralesse. “It’s almost certainly the Fievegal. Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Sundenelle, and her Imperial Greatness, Empress Hekate, have been in contact since the Peace Conference held in Mattarglos a couple weeks ago. I have great confidence that there will soon be a formal alliance between the Empire and the Fievegal.”
“What would bring the Fievegal here?” asks Nortaer, the heir to the Countship. “Without a formal alliance already established, can we trust their arrival to be beneficial?”
Heralesse feels a bitter irony settle in her stomach. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, it was very quickly clear that there is almost nothing the surviving mage corps of Mornistae can do about the mana fire, and the army was shut down just as quickly when the tankards proved ineffective. It’s not common knowledge outside of Mornistae, yet, but the Fievegal has weapons that explicitly nullify magic, meaning all soldiers of every rank are hardly more than common footsoldiers against their weapons.
Where’s Eri when I need her…? She’d be swimming to talk up her friends…
The young Queen replies, “I do believe they’ll be crucial to stopping this mana fire. My Royal Husband’s fear is that this mana fire will not run out of mana and will burn until the whole world is eventually swallowed by its light. The Fievegal has proven time and again that they have far outpaced any other territory on this continent.”
Count Ethuvere scoffs. “It is difficult to separate truth from the embellishments of the troubadours.”
The younger son remarks, “They do get paid more for exciting stories than for factual recountings.”
“I have seen their weapons up close,” retorts Heralesse. “The exaggeration is far less fictional in this case.”
“Let us go see with our own eyes what is approaching before we determine whether or not they are friend or foe,” states the count.
Heralesse has no reason to disagree, since it’s almost certainly the Fievegal. It’s likely they won’t bother focusing on the City of Urflasdat, since the higher priority is stopping the fire.
They all make their way out to the western-facing balcony, and there, glowing in the early morning light is the outline of something approaching. It’s already practically on top of the city, so unless the guards of Urflasdat have become grossly incompetent, the lights were activated intentionally as the vessel arrived to signal their presence.
The Stalvaltan and Fievegal sigils, one a feldrok wielding the six elements of magic and the other, a fox-eared girl standing with a proud, conquering pose with one hand elevated in front of her, as if to present the sky itself as a trophy to her people, and the other holding a shield. It’s obvious to anyone who knows her, it was unlikely the subject of the sigil’s explicit choice, but Hekate is as much the vexillum and emblem of the Fievegal as she is its sovereign ruler and rightful inheritor as a feldrok.
Strangely enough, the airship turns slightly, and though it’s difficult to tell for certain, it appears to be avoiding crossing over the perimeter wall of the city, and instead, cruising around the city. Heralesse thought that they would send someone to meet with the lord at least, since Aramellianna would definitely advise exactly that. And, just as she’s thinking this, a smaller aircraft, one of the so-called shuttles, takes off from the hull of the airship and descends towards the southern gate, which is relatively closest to the Count’s manor. The shuttle flies significantly faster than the airship, which is indeed much faster than a buckrokh-drawn carriage at full speed.
“What are they doing?” asks Nortaer.
“I believe they intend to send a small delegation to inform his Lordship about their presence,” replies Heralesse.
Ethuvere is speechless as he watches. It’s clear that he completely disregarded any rumors about the Fievegal’s flying vessels, and he’s worried that they may fall under attack without warning or time to prepare, since even if a messenger from the western border started for Urflasdat to inform them, it would be several days of continuous riding, changing buckrokhs at the relay stations, to reach the capital as fast as possible. And, if the lights were off, there’s almost no chance the airship was noticed cruising through the darkest part of the night.
Count Ethuvere orders one of his vassals nearby, “Send a messenger to the south gate and confirm their intentions. If they have arrived peacefully, invite them to the manor.”
“If I may, your Lordship…”
“P-Please attend, your Majesty,” replies the Count, almost seeming to hope that Heralesse’s presence will serve as a sort of passive hostage, if she does have the relatively positive relationship she indicates. While Heralesse is obviously not as positively biased towards the Fievegal as her younger sister, she cannot deny that she learned and gained a lot from the Fievegal, with the four national treasure-quality dresses still being fully studied and appraised by the Royal Lapidaries who cut and polish the Royal Jewelry, as well as the Warden of the Stones of State, who is principally responsible for Mornistae’s few but valuable national treasures.
Heralesse and Rikuto now know that the Fievegal manufactures their jewels through otherworldly means, which will eventually drive the market down as they enter the market. But, for now, the sheer gravity of their existence dwarfs most other treasures in existence, since they are indistinguishable from naturally collected jewels, save for their high degree of perfection and consistency.
Heralesse smiles and dips her head respectfully. “I am most grateful, my Lord. But, I would also like to ask that you instruct your messenger to grant the Fievegal’s shuttle permission to land here at the manor. It will be faster, and the shuttle won’t cause any meaningful damage to your estate.”
The Count nods, still a little out of it from the unbelievable sight. He orders his vassal, “Do as she says.”
“Of course, my Lord.” The vassal jogs off, and the group returns to the drawing room where they were meeting.
Count Ethuvere all but collapses back into his chair, somewhat vacant about the arrival of the Fievegal. While the scope of the rumors are obviously unbelievable, he would have been a fool not to have caution about their existence, and with one of the important rumors proven true, he is reevaluating everything right now.
It only takes about ten minutes before the distinctive, unnatural sound of the shuttle approaches and lands out front.
The Count massages the bridge of his nose, and the Countess leads in the envoy for the Fievegal.
Or rather, the grand sovereign of the Empire.
Everyone present recognizes her relatively easily, and they all scramble to their feet. “Y-Y-Your Imperial Majesty!?” cries out the Count as the terrified Countess, tries to shrink into the corner, having done her part to greet the Empress of the Grand Zenkon Empire.
“Remain calm, Count Ethuvere. This is hardly a formal visit. Indeed, I’m certain I owe you an apology, but I have been scrambling to gather the resources and engage the mana fire. As such, I will make a formal apology to both his Majesty King Harnavock kos Ahmpur and you as well, Count Ethuvere.” Heralesse doesn’t know Sundenelle especially well, but she has heard stories that, if the Forgotten Princess-turned-Empress seems innocent or naive, one should assume oneself is the subject of her plans or otherwise a strategic piece. She seems to notice Heralesse only after speaking to the Count. She perks up, saying, “Ah! Queen Heralesse kos Mornistae. We were aware that Mornistae was also answering the Grand Principality’s emergency call to action, but I didn’t expect to run directly into you here.”
Heralesse bows respectfully. “Your Imperial Majesty, it is by coincidence that we have crossed paths.”
Count Ethuvere clears his throat, saying, “I welcome both of your Majesties to my humble estate. Queen Heralesse informed me that she was here on your instructions, your Imperial Majesty. Please, everyone, have a seat. I’ll have tea prepared…”
“No need for tea. And, indeed so on the matter of her Majesty Heralesse. Or rather, it was a sincere request. We’re still investigating the cause, but there is reason to believe rogue operators have used a weapon developed in Mornistae against their knowledge. As such, we were confident that Mornistae would be able to assist in identifying and overcoming this aberrant phenomenon."
Count Ethuvere glances between the two royals. Neither of them have direct power over him, though he has a high level of responsibility to ensure not to offend them. Heralesse does notice that Sundenelle’s guard seems to be minimal, but it’s very possible she has an entire contingent of invisible golem guards armed with firearms hiding all around her. Like Heralesse, Sundenelle is wearing an officer’s military jacket and pants, rather than a fancy dress.
The Count asks cautiously, “Do you perhaps mean… the weapon that was used against Fort Twilight?”
Sundenelle seems to be genuinely impressed, but she always seems to wear a stoic expression, with minor shifts between seriousness and amusement. “I’m impressed, Count Ethuvere. I wasn’t sure how far my official decree had spread. As I’m sure you saw, the airship is carrying the officials of the Fievegal, including her Greatness Hekate fell Lawson. Please forgive us for only my presence. Since I would be more readily accepted, we felt it would be the most reasonable for me to serve as the envoy to inform you of our intentions.”
“If… you intend to evacuate the city, your Majesty, I must hold firm. Until I hear from his Majesty King Harnavock, I can’t disrupt trade between the nations that exchange within our walls.”
“As much as I wish you would reconsider, my Lord, I understand your position. If you are willing to deal with one of my own delegates, we can lend your people our shuttle to make the trip take less than a day.”
“I-I could never!” exclaims the aged City Lord. “As I explained to her Majesty, I don’t believe the fire will be able to overtake our walls.”
“You’re wrong,” states Sundenelle bluntly. “This fire does indeed consume everything. But, I understand your skepticism. After all, a Gloom Inferno should burn itself out once its own mana is depleted.” She stands up from her seat, saying seriously, “This is no mere Gloom Inferno. It would be more accurate to call it a magical rot on the surface of this world. If it is not burned out by our hands, it will continue to spread.” The others quickly rise to their feet as well, and Sundenelle flips her large single braided snow-white hair behind her once more. “If you will not be assisting us, please grant us permission to operate from Ahmpur’s borders as the margrave of this region.”
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Just as he’s about to speak and make the same excuse as before, she adds, “You can refuse, my Lord, certainly, as you have not heard from your king. But this will go one of two ways; we engage the fire now with everything at our disposal, which will appear tantamount to war with your expert judgment determining that there is no time to wait for his Majesty’s permission, or we do so without your permission and win the inevitable war against Ahmpur as well. I am acting as both the envoy of the Fievegal and the Divine Sovereign of the Grand Zenkon Empire. Because of this, I can assure you Ahmpur will not have the Empire’s assistance in this matter. At most, I would recuse the Empire from getting involved. But, depending on how this situation develops, I may side with my fiance. So, do please think carefully about your role as Margrave and Warden of Urflasdat.”
There’s a moment of silence as the horrified Count remains speechless, locked between his duty to report to the King and the not-so-subtle threat the Empress of the widely-recognized most powerful Empire in the known world just made.
Nortaer speaks softly but urgently to his father. “Lord Father, her Imperial Eminence is right. We have little to lose by granting them permission if the fire is serious enough that the Empire is involved. His Majesty would almost certainly heed her Divine Grace’s counsel.”
Heralesse keeps quiet as the Count deliberates. She wants to keep pushing for evacuation, but more important is getting formal permission from Urflasdat as the fire breaches the borders of Ahmpur to avoid a diplomatic incident or the threat of war.
If the King has been kept apprised of recent events, he should be wise enough to avoid conflict with the Fievegal, especially if the Empire will remain neutral in the best-case scenario.
Count Ethuvere lets out a soul-drained sigh. “If… his Majesty overrules my permission, you must know it leaves my hands at that moment…”
“Understood,” replies Sundenelle. “And thank you. You should begin spreading the word that, regardless of what they see or hear on the horizon, our attacks are directed at the unprecedented plague approaching. And, even if you won’t mandate an evacuation, please do encourage one.” She then gives a more formal bow, as is customary in the Empire. “If you’ll excuse me, I shall return to the front line with my allies.”
“Wait… What?” asks the Count, horrified by the prospect before he could even confirm her requests.
“My family-to-be is facing this unprecedented force of nature at the very threshold. If this day is to go down in history, I do not intend to be forgotten in the shadows of my brothers and sisters in the endeavors to save the world.” With that, Sundenelle crisply turns on her heel, instructing a Lady-in-Waiting that doesn’t appear to be Byleathea, “Please remain with the Count’s family in my place, Lady Beige. If the Count requires our assistance or decides to make use of the proffered shuttle, please let us know.”
Heralesse’s name twitches at the name, as well as the simplistic way the apparent Lady-in-Waiting bows and confirms the orders. “As you wish, your Luminous Majesty.”
A fake? She’s leaving a golem? Ah! That’s right. They can easily communicate through the Citadel. But, what happens if anyone finds out? Isn’t this reckless?
“Queen Heralesse, I believe her Greatness will be joining with your forward operating encampment just across the border. If you’d like a ride back, please do join me.”
“Ah! I will take you up on your gracious generosity, your Majesty!” Heralesse says a quick farewell and pledges a formal apology to the Count and his family as well, leaving them stunned for the moment.
You’d be wise to take the offered shuttle, but I understand the caution.
Fortunately, the shuttle wasn’t heavily occupied, so Heralesse’s own entourage is able to join them, with a handful of soldiers remaining behind to ride the group of Buckrokhs back.
As they’re taking off in the shuttle, Sundenelle explains, “I fear little we do is going to have an effect.”
“We tried water and other direct magic spells, but nothing our mages could come up with worked.”
Sundenelle nods. “Thank you for trying so quickly. Truth be told, I… believe Daniel is dragging his feet…”
Heralesse widens her eyes. “H-He’s… not going to help?”
“No…” Sundenelle’s expression softens, and she looks out the window beside her as the ground passes by. “I believe… he is preparing himself for a crushing weight, in addition to the other things that have kept him busy.”
“You’re talking about the last resort?”
“Yes. The Fievegal seems to be wholly confident that it will end the fire, but they are afraid that it will cause innocent deaths in a wide range around it. Urflasdat falls into that range.”
“Manhattan…” murmurs the young Queen.
“I’m… unfamiliar with that word.”
“It was in a coded message that Ryuogriar sent to me via my sister, meant for Rikuto. It’s something from Earth, and it must refer to his god-killers.”
“You’re right,” replies the albino Empress. “Perhaps it is fitting. From what I saw, this truly is the god of all fires.”
“What… happens if the god-killers don’t work?”
“I dare not think about it,” replies Sundenelle. She looks at Heralesse with resolve, in spite of the fear that’s in her eyes. “It is our job to put it out before they ever need to be used.”
Heralesse smiles, but she can feel the fear gripping at her own heart. “R-Right. I can’t speak for Rikuto for certain, but I believe you will have the full cooperation of Mornistae.”
The Empress smiles for a moment before closing her eyes. “Yes, indeed we should all work together, but… My instincts tell me this tragedy will come down to the choices they, the few, make in the final moments, rather than any action we, the many, might take.”
Heralesse can’t say anything to refute. They’ve already exhausted virtually all means Mornistae could manage, so the most they can offer is magical power for joint spells, bodies to move whatever equipment, or even sacrifices to the god-killer, if that’s what it takes.
The grim finality of Sundenelle’s statement reflects the very reason Mornistae ultimately performed a dubious ritual that transcends their very world.
It’s easy in theory, and physically simple in action.
Their last hope may very well come down to a trio of strange heroes fighting for a world they do not hail from.
***
Daniel exits his own private quarters, adjusting his gloves. They are chock full of numbing agents to make up for the damage done to his hands in the process of the contracts. He didn’t expect it to go the way it did for any of them, and he used the bottom of his left hand opposite of his thumb when they were removing Zuzia’s contract. Even with the numbing gel, his hand aches like he has carpal tunnel syndrome across his entire hand.
“{Daniel… What did you tell her about me?}” asks Kaeralegier’s voice. She ‘regained consciousness’ during the collar removal, and she chose not to speak until this moment much later.
She already noticed your existence. She specifically asked me not to address too many specifics about Nemaisol for plausible deniability, but I believe Ryukana suspects that it’s you, specifically. She seemed torn about what to do.
“{Damn… I think I should be safe while I’m bound to the sword, and I doubt they would interfere during the fire, since it should qualify as an anomaly. But… d-don’t drop me into the fire, alright?}”
Daniel scoffs, though his usual sense of humor is absent. He has an enormous amount on his mind, and he had to find a way to speak to Ucahote separately.
Fortunately, he confirmed what he hoped, so he has as many contingencies in place as he can manage.
We have the artifact now, but we’ll need to recharge it. Most of the little power that it had gathered when it was still attached to its charger was used on Zuzia. I’m sorry.
“{Don’t worry about it. And, I’m impressed you realized why it couldn’t actually be moved.}”
Carbon nanotube columns gathering mana from the world. If it weren’t for Kernuules, I never would have connected the dots. As soon as we can, we’ll free you from Nemaisol, and I’ll contract you if that’s still what you want.
“{Yep. Looking forward to it, partner.}”
Daniel manages a soft smile as he heads for the teleporter. He could instruct Balamae, who is going to supervise the Citadel while Xyreko works at the front line with everyone fighting the fire, to teleport him from anywhere, but there’s still time before he needs to leave, and speaking with Ucahote was very brief.
What do you think our odds are on the fire?
“{It’s unprecedented, but I am confident the nuke will finish it. And, if it won’t, you could try a similar collision-based mechanism using the Rods From God trick. Or ‘Fiendbreaker’, I guess you call it. The collision should easily spark a purer fission than even your world’s biggest.}”
Except that it would burrow deep into the ground. I need the mana-negating effect more than the blast. If I knew anything about making a neutron bomb, I’d be less afraid of using sharmelkolle as the shell.
Daniel can see the teleporter, and Reignleif and Jeavana are waiting with their respective daughters, cuddling with them.
“{They’re basically the same,}” replies the goddess in his mind. “{The shell is the difference. Less reflection, more ‘transparent’ to neutrons. That probably is the better idea.}”
My fear is that, if I use sharmelkolle, it’ll actually contain the blast.
“{Hahaha… That’s actually… probably true. Don’t ask me how it works, because I didn’t create it, but it probably could contain several megatons worth of blast force. Tsar Bomba, not so much, but Fat Man and Little Boy? Just don’t forget where you put it. Heh heh heh!}”
Daniel cups his chin as he thinks, and Reignleif remarks when he gets close, “Is something wrong, Mukori?” Her voice is soft, and Gyualen fusses in her arms by making cute, alligator-like yips and squirming to try to turn over. For their part, Clover and Willow are still clinging to Jeavana’s arms, which makes the mechanic nervous. They seem instinctively capable of latching onto their mother’s shoulders, similar to some baby primates, water fowl, and even gators, whose hatchlings will sometimes ride on top of their mothers or even inside their mouths. Daniel can’t help but see a mother Jeavana in her true draconic form carrying the two hatchlings between her massive, firebreathing jaws, and it gives him a bit of a chill.
Willow opens her mouth at Daniel, keeping her maw aimed at Daniel with snappy movements, and he can tell from the way her back and tiny wings twitch that she’s trying to breathe fire at him.
“Hey! Stop that!” complains Jeavana, though she only places her palm in front of the baby’s face, which causes her to glance up at her mother. “That’s going to be your papa. No breathing fire at him.”
Since it has only been a day, the babies understand virtually nothing, and the dragon hatchling simply makes a squawking noise.
Daniel answers Reignleif, “Just trying to crunch more ideas for the mana fire.” He kisses the blue dragon Empress, and she smiles affectionately. She then holds Gyualen up, and he pets the infant’s head and kisses her, earning a little squeaky noise as the baby dragon scratches his cheeks. Fortunately, and contrary to his fears, it seems the infant dragons aren’t much stronger than a human child, though definitely more so than a human infant of the same age. It sounds like a happy sound, and as far as he can tell, Gyualen has a big grin afterwards.
And, Willow continues trying to breathe fire at him.
“Sorry, Harbinger. She’s just jealous, that’s all,” reassures Jeavana. She smiles expectantly at him with a slightly sheepish expression, and Daniel glances with his eyes at Reignleif.
The blue, quiet dragon gives a quaint smile and nothing else.
Not one of you would object if she became my consort, would you? thinks the mechanic to himself a little dryly.
That said, it’s far from enough to distract him from his immediate future, which could shift any further future entirely.
That said, there are only a handful of people in the world Daniel can trust beyond all measure, not just for going along with what he says, but for giving him an honest opinion if he’s in the wrong. Ironically enough, two of them are present.
“Listen… I, uh…” He struggles to get the words out, since he doesn’t want it to come to it.
Reignleif instantly frees up her right hand by carefully cradling her baby in her left, and she cups Daniel’s cheek. “Tell me, Mukori. If you wish to claim Jeavana as well, she will surely accept.”
“I never said that!” exclaims the golden dragon with an embarrassed crack to her normally deeper female voice.
“No, not that,” replies Daniel, his voice drained of his usual confidence. “I… I think… I’m going to have to… do the unthinkable… And, there’s an alternative, but it’s not much better.”
“What is it?” asks Jeavana seriously, immediately trying to go with the topic change to hide the source of her rosy cheeks. “If it’s as bad as a god-killer, why bother?”
“The difference is that it is a god-killer, but instead of focusing on the blast, it would generate an even more intense anti-magic field. We called them neutron bombs. The problem is, there will be so much anti-magic… or rather, nuclear radiation, that it would be lethal at long range, and poison everyone even further. I… have no idea how to scale it safely to ensure the fire is put out. And, unlike mana, radiation is very much dangerous to me, especially if there’s no mana to counter it.”
Daniel suspects that he has gotten away with his rather reckless use of radioactive materials as weapons thanks to the inverse relationship it has with mana. For denizens of Zenkon, their natural mana likely acts similarly to iodine tablets used during a nuclear accident; intercepting or blocking the radioactive particles before they can deliver their damage, like an invisible sunscreen ‘field’. If Daniel remembers right, iodine tablets are meant to saturate the body’s iodine receptors in case the fission product is inhaled or swallowed, so the body ignores and purges the radioactive iodine more quickly through the natural waste processes.
But, not much can actually stop neutron radiation easily, and in the amounts coming from fission or fusion, there is the very real possibility that everyone for miles would be very quickly “poisoned” to death by the destruction of their cells at the atomic and molecular level.
“So, the choices are to almost definitely kill innocents with fire at a known distance, or possibly kill innocents at a much greater distance, yes?” asks Reignleif gently.
“Yes…” murmurs Daniel, feeling dread at the thought. He hopes the evacuation goes well, but he’s not as optimistic as Zuzia. Daniel lived in Florida for his fair share of hurricanes, and even cities on the coasts taking direct hits would have people who refused to evacuate.
And, in some cases, people were drowned in their own homes when the storm surge flooded above their rooftop, even in the most recent hurricanes where evacuations are mandatory. The mana fire is unprecedented, and even if they could convince them that Daniel was going to vaporize them if they don’t leave, there’s very little chance of the evacuation going smoothly in time.
“Just as with the Devourer, Mukori, you have no duty to save this world. But, you do have a family whose future is counting on you doing so, or asking us to do something if there is something we can do. If you need help flying the god-killer, I will entrust Gyualen to Ryuo or Doephluev and assist you at once.”
Daniel can feel the weight of that statement far more than Reignleif realizes. He does have his family’s future to think about.
But, can he choose that future at the expense of one person, let alone possibly thousands?
A fist lands against his chest very gently, not so much a punch, but a simple way to get his attention. Jeavana stares at him seriously. “I destroyed a kingdom singlehandedly. I killed a man who had done me no harm whatsoever simply because I did not care for his life when his own foolishness led him to his death. I have no regrets and no remorse. You have killed your enemies plenty of times, Daniel. As you should. But, you can’t save people every time from their own stupidity. You are killing no one, no matter what you do to stop this fire. They are killing themselves by not getting out of your way.”
“Jeavana…” murmurs Reignleif with a little cautious disappointment. The blue dragon knows that Daniel isn’t as callous or coldly pragmatic as a typical dragon, and many of his decisions have gone out of the way to be merciful when many of this world would never consider it.
Daniel takes a breath and sighs. “Before that, I suppose we have to find out if Hekate, Wenlianna, Yaulwembor, Vaergraes, Senn, and Serrentuk can do anything about it, right?”
Both dragons smile and nod. It’s obvious that he’s deferring the thought to later, since it’s a mountain that he won’t be able to avoid.
Jeavana hands Clover and Willow over to Reignleif, kissing her babies. She murmurs, “Papa will warm up to you eventually, my babies. So, stay with Auntie Reina for now, while I go help him save the world.” She gives a warm grin, and Daniel finds himself momentarily captivated, given the cold answer she just gave in regards to the lives of Urflasdat and any surrounding villages that may also be in the destruction range.
She gives a softer smile to him, saying, “Sorry if my answer was too cold, Harbinger, but it’s a fact. If I wanted you to be a failure, I would tell you to do nothing, since it’s ‘the most right thing to do not to kill innocents under any circumstance’, but the world is too important for pride and rivalries to stand in the way.”
Daniel feels a little more reassured by that, and it keeps his mind going. He looks at Clover and Willow, who stare up at them with curious eyes.
The mechanic sighs softly, and he leans down and kisses both of the twins as well, petting their heads. “Take care of Mukori and your, uh, cousins.” He puts his finger close to Willow’s mouth, and she predictably snaps her tiny jaws down on his index finger. Both Reignleif and Jeavana gasp, but it only hurts a bit and draws a little blood.
Daniel withdraws his finger, which she isn’t strong enough to bite off nor stay latched onto, and he touches his finger to her head above and between her eyes, avoiding being bitten again. “There… The Legendary Willow has wounded the Harbinger of Calamity.” He paints a small red tree onto her forehead as she growls and tries to angle her jaws towards his finger again.
Daniel glances at the two dragon women briefly, saying with a soft and weary smile. “This certainly can’t stand. I’ll definitely have to claim revenge.”
Both of them understand very quickly, and Jeavana’s eyes water a little. She looks aside, grumbling, “That’s… so silly…”
“I’ll be counting on you, Jeavana.”
She finally grins at him, replying, “Obviously! Let’s go down in history as the strongest warriors this world will ever see.”
The Earthling chuckles softly.
He wouldn’t normally be arrogant enough to believe he’ll linger on in history past his lifetime, but he already has become infamous on the continent as the Harbinger of Calamity, and fading under that title, the Feldrok Sorcerer.
But, if he is forced to take the lives of innocent people to save the world from a threat that is not yet showing signs of such imminent destruction, he will definitely become a major historical figure taught to children in schools for decades and possibly centuries to come.
In a worst case scenario, it would be for all the wrong reasons.
***