novelraw Chapter 247: Primordial Goddess of the Abyss
Chapter 247: Primordial Goddess of the Abyss
The last threads of control dissolve like ancient threads of paper crumbling to dust. It took a great deal of Her power to control the puppeteered body beyond the threshold and through so much resistance to Her ethereal touch to begin with. Her Harbinger is absolutely worn down, and though Her gaze is cut off for the moment, it was an inconsequential defeat.
Her six eyes study the last images the dragon witnessed while she turns a fang over between Her fingers.
Controlling reanimated bodies of the dead is not especially challenging for those enlightened on the macabre arts, and the most skilled necromancers can summon skeletal soldiers from as little as a handful of small bones.
She kept this particular fang for one reason and one reason alone.
So long as she has even a single part of Her thralls, she can regenerate their whole body. Using the fallen body of the Betrayer as Her disposable agent seems like a fitting way to make use of him, now that justice has come full circle.
The Ancient One uses one of Her own claw nails to nick Her finger, smearing blood across the fang’s surface. She chants in a language long forgotten, guiding Her mana into a spell that does not exist on Zenkon. The blood turns black, and as Her mana pours in, it bubbles and thickens, expanding and bending to Her will. Slowly and surely, the form of a dragon takes shape once more, comparing in size to Her as the human who slayed him did to the dragon in life. As his body takes shape and starts to become armored with scales, the darkened color does nothing to obscure the visage that has driven Her mad for centuries.
Her hand instinctively closes around the lifeless dragon’s neck, which is still “stitched” together by Her magic; exactly as she is satisfied with and envisioned the pathetic creature. If ever his soul were to regain control of the body, his entire existence would still be entirely dependent on Her magic.
As if unsatisfied with this very thought, an unwelcome voice speaks up. “If your intent was to utilize the filthy child, you will need my soul, not my body. And, I would rather fade into the spirit realm than assist you.”
The Ancient One curls her mouth up in a toothy smirk. The voice is wholly unwelcome, but it is as meaningless as the time that has passed her by or the defeat she just experienced.
She calmly pulls the fang back out of the profane puppet’s jaw, and she casually tosses the lifeless body onto the abyssal floor she created to give herself a place to rest and cast her spells. The black ichor that channels her mana splatters a bit, but it’s no matter. So long as the spell remains functional, the ichor will replenish itself from the mana heart she created in place of its true heart.
The Ancient One then waves a single finger in a “come hither” motion.
Naturally, the being that She just beckoned would never obey of his own will, but his will is truly as irrelevant as a painting buried deep in a repository or a cheap artifact on display in a reliquary.
Her magic obeys the simple gesture, levitating the vessel containing the last true essence of the mighty being once known as the Red Lord of Shiaulvolgarro’s Hoard.
Trapped inside a simple crystal sphere is the ethereal form of the body she just discarded for later use.
She lets out a string of sounds that causes the soul to flicker its ghostly form within the sphere, clearly startled by the sound of its own true name being spoken by a being that should never have heard it. After all, when he met Her, he introduced himself by his friendly name, Morthybargaron.
“What is wrong? Did you think a goddess would not know your pathetic true name, you filthy perfidious khalt?”
Morthybargaron remains silent, floating uselessly in his crystalline prison keeping his true being separated from his physical body forever, unable to die and return to the cycle of life, but never to regain his former glory.
The Ancient One hums in approval. She then explains for Her own entertainment, more than the dragon’s benefit, “As for the feldrok girl, I have no need for your contract over her. If I wanted to bend her to my will…”
She has spent centuries gathering mana as soon as She found cracks through which to reach across the divide, and Her army of thralls has only grown. Unlike them, She will never bother to bind Morthybargaron to Her. She has all the time in the world to convince him.
She simply closes her hand slightly, still not actually touching the orb, and Morthybargaron’s soul begins to scream as if in intense agony.
This is obviously because he is in intense agony.
The human Harbinger’s allies have correctly determined that the intense raw mana coming off of solidified magical energy and other intense sources causes a sort of damage directly to one’s soul, though in most cases, this damage will recover on its own. It’s not particularly noticeably painful, but it can be felt.
When the soul does feel pain, it is the most raw, pure, direct burning that a being can feel, like being ripped apart and incinerated at the same time. It is exactly what she felt when she first found herself here in the void, her death imminent and her soul being pulled out of her body by the very return to nothingness that all things fear in the deepest parts of their hearts.
But, her soul was already in agony, so the damage was nothing.
There is no pain greater than that experienced by a mother knowing she can do nothing to protect her children.
What felt like an unending eternity of helplessness drove her deep into the thralls of madness, and the only place to go after decades of madness was the one thing all living beings crave when they are wronged to the absolute core of their being.
Revenge.
She releases the crushing motion of her hand, and Morthybargaron’s soul continues to moan and whimper, still suffering the lingering memory of his pain. “I would condemn myself to another eon here in this place in order to dedicate my every last drop of power to you and you alone, feckless fool.” She leans her unnatural, six-eyed gaze close to the sphere, staring down on the puny spiritual remnants of her mortal enemy. “But, I sincerely doubt I’ll need that much time. Do you truly believe a dragon’s mind cannot break?”
The dragon looks at her with terror, but he tries to remain defiant.
Ahh, the ever proud dragons. Yes, I will take the most pleasure in ensuring you are all cleansed from the world. What cruel irony that you were cursed for so long and never knew it.
She squeezes on him again, raising herself back to her normal, relaxed posture as her tails swish idly behind her. She could be manipulating her thralls or otherwise steering the Harbinger, but the mana fire does indeed need to be stopped, and his efforts, as well as any others bearing her mark who get involved, will merely funnel a great deal of mana to her.
It is a shame that the Harbinger so easily figured out that much. Had he merely let go of the goddess… No matter. Even if I must wait out his lifespan, there will be an abundance of opportunities. Not least of which if he acts as I expect. He should be a bit more urgent now that he knows the threat exists.
She glances at the lifeless corpse nearby once more, smirking. And, if he doesn’t, I’ll simply remind him.
“R-Regardless, you wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything unique with my body without my soul present.”
“Oh? Do you think so?” muses the Ancient One. Though her words indicate actual interest or curiosity, she is wholly apathetic to his thoughts. “Fortunately, my generous Harbinger and his harem favorite provided you to me without me even needing to ask. And, then, they proceeded to spawn even more dragons when you failed for all those endless centuries.” She lets out a cold, sinister cackle at the dragon’s expense. Even when she knew him in life, at his absolute most humble, he was still one of the more arrogant and prideful beings she ever knew. And, when she learned that a curse had been implemented as a last-ditch retaliation, she rejoiced and bided her time for a chance to finalize her own revenge.
Her taunt works, though the dragon is still quite fearful, even as irritated as her remarks made him. For all his strength and wisdom, Morthybargaron has no living legacy. And, though the feldrok child did spare a large clutch of his eggs being kept in stasis, most of them are likely already dead, and those that aren’t just need to be smashed.
A trifling matter, really.
In time, you will be overshadowed and forgotten, oh ‘mighty Red Lord’. And, I will be there to spread the ashes of your legacy to the winds.
“F-For all your power, I have no idea why you would desire me, specifically. I am hardly the first dragon to perish or be discarded. You act as if you are so high above me, and yet, you were so readily defeated by the same human.”
“Hmm? Oh, that. Yes, I suppose it could be called a defeat. To the likes of you, who needs glorious, visible triumph, it truly would seem like I gained nothing. But, he is a human of merely a few decades. Even if he does not fall into step with my plans, I would only need to wait a few decades more. Just as you should have when he first captured the Citadel.” She gives the same cold cackle.
“W-What…!?” asks the dumbfounded dragon, as if it never even registered to him.
Fool. Waiting out a human is the easiest thing in the world. If he never gained your harem as his assets, he would likely have been killed long ago by other means.
Just as he starts to protest, she gestures her hand, and he dissolves into the darkness around her. She has had centuries to master magic, in spite of her circumstances, so tucking him away for later is no challenge at all.
Keep toiling hard for my return, dear Harbinger. I will not forget your many kindnesses, just as I will not forget your resistance to me.
She genuinely looks forward to the day that she can meet the human known as Daniel face to face.
It will be a glorious day indeed.
***
Everyone is gathered on the forward observation deck of the airship, and before them, a massive contrast to the Devourer fills the view ahead.
It is an undeniably beautiful sight, in spite of the formidable threat it poses to the whole of the world.
Aramellianna murmurs, “Heaven protect us…”
Hekate tilts her head to glance at the Grand Duchess Senior, sympathizing with the sentiment. It’s Hekate’s second time seeing it at such an enormous size that it’s difficult to really comprehend how much it has expanded from the last time, especially because it was a tiny spark when it first appeared.
“Naive human,” states the unwanted guest and future Archpriestess of the Children of the Star. “Why would we need protection from Heaven’s divine Children coming to take us to paradise?” She is absolutely giddy at being able to see the glowing fire, in spite of her eyes being completely blind.
“Ochibenara,” warns Hekate with a slight edge to her voice. “We’re allowing you up here to help. If you disrespect my friends and family, you’re going into the deepest hole I can find where you’ll never see this again.”
The spider woman pales slightly, shrinking her shoulders. “F-Forgive me. I am just so excited to see such beauty.”
“I’ve seen the aftermath of the Devourer, but is Daniel’s weapon truly capable of stopping this?” asks Vaergraes.
“I have to fail first,” states Hekate confidently as she places a palm against her chest. “And, before I’ve fully failed, we have lots of stuff to try. Wenlianna, is the converted cannon ready?”
“Y-Yes,” replies the brunette. Her green eyes are glued to the fire as well, which isn’t quite painful to look at yet. “Ahok should be on standby with her team to start connecting everything through the portal.”
“That is correct,” states Xyreko as she appears from thin air nearby. “And, Daniel’s team is departing now. He asked if you think you’ll be able to teleport the shuttle, your Greatness.”
Hekate nods. “Of course! I was wondering what was taking Daniel so long!”
“There were some… complications with the contract removals. However, Jeavana and Zuzia are joining Daniel, ready to fight.”
“Good. Wenlianna, as soon as the airship is in range, you have permission to start extraction. I’ll be back with Daniel in a few minutes.”
“Hekate,” starts Aramellianna. The feldrok girl turns her full attention to the Grand Duchess Senior.
“Yes?”
“I ask for your permission to deploy all planned countermeasures in your absence, from now and until the fire is dealt with or we are forced to evacuate ahead of the Alamogordo Special.”
“You have it, Aramellianna. If anything shows signs of driving it back even a little, let me know immediately. Yaulwembor will be coming with Daniel, and she and I should be able to work something out if it’s merely a matter of power.”
“Of course, your Greatness. Safe travels.”
The fox-eared girl grins. “You say that like it will take more than a few minutes. Xyreko, let’s go!”
The golem caretaker bows and transports Hekate off of the observation deck, leaving the others to begin.
Aramellianna states, “Wenlianna, you may begin at the earliest opportunity. If you need the airship to do something, relay the message quickly. Captain Muindis, have the battle mages focus on negation, wind, and fire. According to the golems accompanying Sundenelle, water was exhausted quite extensively by King Rikuto and Queen Heralesse. All rifle and artillery men have permission to utilize anti-magic rounds once clear of the airship. Anyone who gains any abnormal effect from the fire, report it at once.” The matron turns to the spider woman, who is being watched by Roetta. “Ochibenara, is it? As I know was promised, you will be permitted to worship this deity, but you must act truthfully. If your unique vision of the fire indicates anything, please inform me at once.”
“Asking a woman to help slay her gods,...” murmurs the spider woman.
“You will cooperate, or I will send you to meet your god immediately. I am neither Hekate nor Daniel. They will forgive me if I determine you will be of no use to us. You will not be forgiven if you try to stand in our way.”
“I understand,” grumbles the drider. She touches the glass of the viewport, only knowing it is there after seeing its relative position via the shadows cast by anyone between her and the fire. “I see so much light, glowing deep in the ground. Just as with you naysayers, the world seems to be resisting. But, it is a cleansing of all the rot and darkness that…”
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“Ochibenara,” warns the Grand Duchess Senior.
The blind woman stops and nods, resuming a more silent observation of the fire as Aramellianna continues giving out instructions.
“Roetta, do you believe dragon fire will have any effect?”
“At this scale, I don’t have the power to make much of a difference, I’m afraid. That said, Neith will be returning to battle soon. I can make an attempt to test it before then, if you wish.”
“Please do. At full scale, if you would. If we can eliminate it before the primary team returns, we can save their time and energy. Vaergraes, are there any suggestions you have for how to deal with this?”
“It’s advancing faster than the Devourer, and I can feel the mana from here already.”
“I can make a suggestion, Mother,” states Arachne from nearby. The observation deck is naturally too short for her, so she can’t stand at her full height. But the Death Knight that Vaergraes summoned has developed a great deal of personal identity since due to her own exposure to strange mana when she went to Daniel’s side on the Kobold/Selkethia island.
“What is it, Arachne?” asks the Uhl’tall Empress.
“While I can absorb some mana, we may benefit if Lady Baeka were to also attempt to create condensed summons like myself.”
“Interesting idea, my Child,” replies the Uhl’tall as she ponders this. “The vast mana consumption could be a way of stopping the advance, at least.”
“I trust this summoning is an abnormal procedure?” asks Aramellianna.
“Indeed. Had I not employed Hekate’s immense mana pool when summoning Arachne, she would have lost coherence and dissolved after a short while, and she wouldn’t be able to speak or think for herself. It wouldn’t even be fair to compare my most powerful summon normally to Arachne, given the vast differences between their capabilities.”
“Where is Baeka now?” asks Aramellianna.
Roetta replies, “The Mikadresselle is likely on the hull making preparations. I believe she hoped to use her summons to probe the fire much closer without risking death.”
“Ensure she conserves her energy for now, and inform her to speak with us as soon as possible,” orders the brunette matron. An officer nearby confirms and relays the order through the airship’s communications.
Aramellianna then says, “Very good. Then, Vaergraes, Arachne, and when Baeka arrives, I ask you three to do everything you can to try to deplete the mana. If you can manage it, summon as many beings as it takes. Report any anomalies or emergencies as well.”
“Djhinlierr can likely use summoning magic as well. I believe she can be trusted to serve our purposes, especially once she sees the fire.”
“She claims she was coming to your rescue, yes?”
“Yes. She was pursuing support within the Hegemony, but after the Orbicharium was destroyed, she couldn’t gather enough forces. However, she did give me some information on a possible lead towards our true enemy. They somehow knew the Citadel would be vulnerable ahead of time.”
“If you believe she can be trusted, that is good enough for me. Sir Magnir is likely around here somewhere, so I doubt she’ll choose to resist. Fetch her and catch her up.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Mother,” states Wenlianna, interjecting as politely as she can. She has been studying a modified mana detector, and she says, “I believe we have levels that should exceed the sustaining mana of the portal, so I’ll head to the battery and contact Ahok.”
“At your leisure. As I said, inform us if you need adjustments to the airship’s heading and altitude.”
“Yes, Mother.” Wenlianna bows and excuses herself, walking briskly to the battery. The cannon’s barrel is exposed to the outside, and parts of the cannonry bay or ‘battery’ can be opened as well, similar to a hangar. This means the exposure is likely a bit higher, since glass has some dissipative effect on mana, meaning the mana detector would read lower in the observation room compared to the cannon’s muzzle.
Many of the soldiers of the airship greet her as she walks briskly. She is used to being greeted with reverence as an aristocrat, but the knights and guardsmen always had a bit more of a tepid or even curt response to her because she often ran away from her perceived duties as the heir.
Now, though, she is the bridge between the Stalvaltan family and its vassals with the unprecedented might of the Fievegal. Not only does she serve as part of the backbone of that might herself, but she has vouched for the Stalvaltan warriors and battle mages to incorporate the otherworldly weapons with their strategies, making them even stronger.
Wenlianna was just fine hiding in her lab and working on research. She always strived to benefit her family with her work, even if it wasn’t in the typical way of a noble’s daughter and heir. But, she could divorce that beneficial aid from anything outside of her lab, either in the estate or at the Castle, because it wasn’t up to her how they were used.
It’s a little awkward, but she returns the greetings respectfully, even with her mind racing about anything she might’ve missed. She checked and double-checked everything about the setup, and the portal will be handled by the Citadel’s golems. If it works, they will be able to restore the Citadel’s mana reserves to what they were at its peak, and even beyond, if she’s lucky.
There can be no mistakes, though. The fate of the world is counting on everyone finding that one means of stopping the mana fire here and now.
Please just work. Please please please… Ryukana, Amalaskae; whoever I need to pray to, I ask that you watch over us all…
Wenlianna swallows her fear and enters the cannon bay’s lower level. There are the guards who are monitoring the equipment she asked them to watch over. Mana detectors indicate when the levels are starting to become hazardous, and the mana crystals are staged for the initial triggering of the spell to absorb mana. If they ignite it too early, it could explode the make-shift mana funnel and the crystal arrays before the raw mana can be dumped to the Citadel.
“Is everyone ready?” asks Wenlianna loudly. It’s truly time to get serious, and she has no room for anything less today.
“Yes, your Grace!” chorus the loyal Stalvaltan soldiers. Another one at the radio adds, “Home One is standing by, your Grace. Troops ready to deploy.”
“Good. Then, have Home One initiate the portal. Mages, monitor the stabilizers. If there is a single spark or shudder, we must shut it down.”
“Understood, your Grace!”
“Incoming connection! Stand by!” calls out the radio operator.
Wenlianna takes her position near the control console for the cannon. It’s partially shielded at Captain Muindis’ request/demand. He vehemently protested to Wenlianna being exposed to danger if the cannon misfires or explodes, and everyone agreed.
I’m not useless. I do all of the work that I do so that my devices do NOT explode. She keeps these petulant thoughts to herself, of course. Wenlianna knows objectively that everyone who shields her only wishes for her to be safe. It’s likely the Grand Duke would never allow her to even be in the same country as an airship such as this while it’s on a mission, let alone leading one of its highest priority and most hazardous duties for that very endeavor.
There’s a buzz that fills the air, and Wenlianna calls out, “Stay calm! That’s a stable initialization!"
“Yes, ma’am!” reply the soldiers, holding their own positions behind safety barriers or hard equipment, just in case.
Between the arms of the portal, what can only be described as a swirling pool of mana flickers into existence, growing to a radius determined by the spell arms. The portal itself doesn’t show the other side, but they have a nice, simple way to check.
“To Home One! Portal Stable! Send test line!”
“To Home One! Portal Stable! Send test line! Yes Ma’am!” The radio operator gives the order, and only a moment passes before a simple ball with a string tied to it flops out of the portal, bouncing a few feet ahead before coming to a safe stop.
“To Home One! Test line landed! Retract test line!”
The operator repeats it, relaying the message as Wenlianna swallows. There are only two reasons the portal would be problematic. The first is that it’s not meant to sustain an object within the portal itself. It’s still unknown what exists “between” the two openings of a portal, even if it seems to be virtually two dimensional, and thus, instantaneous. Simply transporting mana alone across the spell does not work. But, physical objects with mana have no issues moving across.
And, during their micro experiments, Wenlianna and Ahok were able to transmit mana through conductors. Though, the experiment was across a room.
Thankfully, the line goes taught as the one on the other end pulls it back across, confirming that the line didn’t get snipped when it came to rest.
“To Home One! Send over mana receiving!”
Again, her orders are relayed, and with only a moment of delay, two long lines of goblins from the units Grendel Two and Grendel Seven trek through carrying the heavy mana conductor bundles, splitting off in a sharp u-turn to each side of the cannon, and the Stalvaltan soldiers waiting guide them in. A few of the goblins prove to be clumsy, as if trying to go the wrong way because they don’t know left from right, but the conductors are heavy, and they fearlessly cross the portal with the cables, unsure if anything could go wrong. Wenlianna grew up fearing the small green humanoids, since they were always the sword fodder of the Demon Covenant, but before Ahok, she had never seen one herself. And, Ahok was well-liked because of her intelligence, as well as her low ambition for self-advancement.
Daniel never showed any bias towards anyone, including the undeniably weak, rather aggressive goblins. He instead gave them reasons to behave “normally”, but gain more benefit than simply marching at the front line of basic attacks.
They may not be skeptical enough to question the danger of their mission today, but Wenlianna can’t help but respect their diligence.
“Port side ready!” calls out the Guardsmen after anchoring the first connector in its socket. “Starboard ready!” calls out the other one.
The officer overseeing both sides relays to Wenlianna, “Both sides ready, your Grace! Standing by!”
Wenlianna sets the power and exposure iris from her control panel, calling out, “Stand clear! Mana transfer commencing!”
The goblins and Stalvaltan Guardsmen back away from the conductors while she powers up the device. There’s a deep, otherworldly hum that comes from the massive cannon’s body, and a flicker of light draws her attention to the muzzle. There’s a partial gap around the barrel that lets light in, but not a full view of the outside. And, given that the only thing to see ahead of the barrel is pure white light occasionally streaked with momentary gossamer iridescence.
Now, a rainbow of color crackles and hums just outside of the airship’s bow, like an entire crowd of rodents racing into their den of safety.
Suddenly, the port side socket sparks and flashes out a stray bolt of colorful aura, and the goblins and soldiers dive back. Wenlianna starts to scream with her hand moving for the shutdown, but the aura quickly disspates and stabilizes.
The hum becomes deep and rumbles the air, stunning the brunette and the others in the battery with a heavy bass that rumbles deep into their bones. She screams in pain, but she can’t hear her own voice over the uproar. That said, through watery eyes, she can see the goblins moving. They swat their hands around, moving quickly and with a strange, ant-like precision. Several of the goblins immediately take hold of the Stalvaltan soldiers and drag them towards the nearest exit, including the battery. Another one jogs to Wenlianna, and her she takes a fearful step back, only because she has no idea what is going on, and the severe pain prevents her from thinking clearly. She has both hands locked to her ears, struggling to block the sound.
Regardless, the goblin snatches the waist of her riding pants, and she feels an instinctual terror fueled by the rumors she has heard from maids and other young ladies gossiping around Castle Mornistae and the Stalvaltan Estate.
However, instead of being savagely robbed of her wifely integrity and honor, she is pulled to her left, and her feet barely manage to find enough control to keep her upright, following after her would be attacker.
It’s then that she snaps out of her unreasonable terror, remembering that the goblin special forces are bloodthirsty, but they are a trusted arm of the Fievegal because they understand when to be bloodthirsty and when to trust Daniel and his allies with the plans.
This is reinforced when the roar of the cannon dies down, and Wenlianna is no longer being hammered by the powerful sounds of the activated device. She catches her breath as she leans against the wall, sinking to her knees as a small, four-fingered hand pets her shoulder. She looks up through watering eyes to find a water skin, and the goblin soldier, who is wearing his full armor belonging to Grendel Seven. This includes sound dampening plugs custom fitted to the goblin soldiers in their helmets, along with shields that mostly protect their long ears. If he’s an officer, it’s possible he even has sonic crystals in his helmet to nullify sound even further.
“You hear now, yes Human Empress Wenlianna?” asks the goblin.
Wenlianna is still stunned from the pain and fear she just felt, but she snaps out of it. “Oh! Um, yes, but… The device. We have to stop it.” She’s talking loud, but she can hear again, even with some ringing in her ears.
“Stopping is easy, but High Goblin Ahok say mana is flow. Is waste to stop now, yes?”
“I… Um…” Wenlianna is torn. She didn’t expect the noise to be so deafeningly loud. Even now, she can hear a continuous roar. Daniel mentioned that the shuttles using mana crystals are significantly quieter than their equivalents on earth, including both propeller-driven and jet-driven models. Just putting some metal and wood between her and the cannon has drastically reduced the intensity of the sound for her. She can clearly hear it, and it’s still loud, but it’s not nearly as painful.
Wenlianna has to make a decision. The cannon is a crucial asset for this mission, even if for no other reason than siphoning off a plentiful resource to the Citadel while it’s available.
Another goblin jogs out of the battery while she’s thinking, and he speaks in one of the goblin dialects. It sounds like actual gibberish to Wenlianna, though she only knows the common Eastern Imperial Trade language, some of the ancient fae language that forms the basis of fundamental magic, and she can handle conversations in Graume Vaudis at her mother’s insistence, since it’s the “High Imperial” language used by the Imperial family and high ranking aristocrats in the Empire, making it beneficial for trade and politics. Even so, the goblins don’t have an easily discernible word, syllable, or sentence structure the way even English does to make it easy to recognize as a language. Regardless, the goblin that evacuated her chatters back at his comrade, and he accepts a helmet that the newcomer brought. He offers it to Wenlianna, saying, “Mok no speak human, but Mok bring helmet for human Empress Wenlianna. You wear. Hear armor.”
The soldier in front of her doesn’t have a mastery of Eastern Imperial Trade either, but she does understand. She accepts the helmet, carefully putting it on. She can feel the ear muffs slide down across her ears, and she makes sure it’s snug. Thankfully, there’s just enough room for her glasses, and she can tell the sound dropped from the cannon by a huge margin.
Mok speaks again, though he remains unintelligible to the brunette. The other soldier states, “Mok say Citadel get maj good. High Goblin Ahok much approve.”
Wenlianna sighs. “L-Let me inspect the device, at least.”
The goblin nods, and he says, “You call Brout. Brout Grendel Seven Lieutenant. Only Grendel Seven speak good.”
If the Stalvaltan Empress learned anything so far, it’s that goblins tend to refer to themselves in the third person, so she confirms, “You’re Brout?”
“Yes. Brout is Brout,” confirms the goblin proudly. “Grendel Six hog good shine, so Brout proud Grendel Seven big use.”
Wenlianna nods. He’s happy to help, it sounds like, and she’s grateful for it. “Right. Then, let’s go.”
She climbs to her feet, and her knees are still shaking. She was frightened by the noise, and she unfairly feared Brout when he rushed towards her. She owes him an apology, even if he doesn’t realize it. But, for now, she has to focus on the mission.
“Brout… Truly, thank you for helping me.”
“Brout happy to help. Brout send Mok through glow hole for quick speak High Goblin Ahok. Human Empress Wenlianna no worry more.”
“I’m grateful.” She then bows her head politely to Mok, adding, “Please thank Mok on my behalf as well. The helmet is very helpful.”
Brout chatters at Mok, and they fall into step behind her when she heads briskly back into the battery.
She has a moment of pause at the doorway due to two simultaneous sensations that strike her.
The first is the obvious; the sound noticeably gets louder, as expected. But, she can still think, and the bulk of it is simply a deep rumbling against her skin, which feels like it penetrates down to her bones.
The second causes a moment of sheer wonder.
Seeing the mana fire from the observation deck was awe-inspiring, but also terrifying due to the sheer bright whiteness of the foreboding light swallowing the horizon.
Wenlianna is briefly awestruck once again by the swirling lights dancing into the battery, swirling around the cannon. It hasn’t ignited into black flames yet, but it reminds Wenlianna of a strange phenomenon in the sky she saw as a child. Ribbons of light danced all across the night sky, and it’s one of the clearest and most precious memories Wenlianna has of her father.
Father, what is that!?
Ah? Those lights? Hmm… Well, it’s a bit early to let you in on this secret, but… I suppose I can tell you. You see, my sweet little Wenlie, that is the Mourchade kos Thuuwe, or the River of Spirits.
R-River of Spirits!?
Yes, my child. It’s said that they gather only on the rarest of nights, just like this one, foretelling when a Soulwyrm will be born. Perhaps they’re here to celebrate your little brother.
Heeheehee! Father, Mother insists this one will be a girl, too!
Three girls in a row? What ill-starred plight would you see me bound to? See that? Gold. Gold is the color of boys…
Wenlianna smiles as she ponders this event. If she remembers correctly, it happened almost sixteen years ago, but it still brings her nearly to tears.
Like then, streaks of gold follow the cannon’s general structure, but dance freely around it, as if the spirits have come to assist and protect the cannon. Wenlianna knows magic is viewed as a sort of interaction with the lingering spirits that populate the world, but Daniel’s more pragmatic view of things has her accepting that it’s less likely literal spirits. Regardless, she can’t help but feel like she is seeing an important sign. And, because the device appears to be stable otherwise, she makes the executive decision.
We continue. Once I ensure it’s stable, we’ll figure out whether or not it’s impeding the fire.
Wenlianna calls out to Brout, “I have to get closer! Be ready to run!”
Brout doesn’t bother shouting to reply, but he gives a salute, which confirms that he heard something of what she said. It’ll have to do, because if she doesn’t move quickly, Hekate will return to chase her back to safety, since it’s up and running.
The brunette magic artisan trots to the control panel, observing what few indications she has. The mana indicator for the cannon barrel is maxed out, and even scoping it down as far as it will go leaves it near the max range.
We’ll need to hold this distance, then. I’ll inform them soon.
She notices the Stalvaltan guardsmen moving back to their positions, and one of them jogs up to Wenlianna. They have sealed helmets as well, so it’ll be a challenge to coordinate the operation. Regardless, once it was confirmed stable and Wenlianna was taken to safety as planned, the Stalvaltan soldiers would have been the ones maintaining the device, ready to shut it down in an emergency.
As long as nothing goes wrong, though, Wenlianna can leave the situation to them.
Until then, she checks everything she can check, and she momentarily prays to the “spirits” dancing around the battery for further good luck.
They’ll need a lot of it after all is said and done.
***