“You’ve survived a long time despite being so close to the ratkin,” Josh said, watching the prophet intently. “So I guess the first thing we need to know is how many soldiers do you have left for an attack?”

The prophet leaned back on its chair as if in thought, although this was clearly an act since it could just as easily check its citizens list. “I command a force about four hundred strong.”

“And they can all fight as well as a man?” Josh asked.

It nodded, amusement colouring its ashy green face. “Most definitely. They can hold their own for certain. What about your forces? How many can you spare?”

“Three thousand,” Josh answered plainly, not adding that half of that was from New Derby who had yet to confirm their involvement in this attack. He needed to show Riverside’s strength now so that the mycelia didn’t get any sneaky ideas about betraying them. “What about the ratkin? What do you know about them?”

“They can field a force around a thousand, but another less-able thousand can be added in case they fear a devastating battle. Alas to say, if they see our troops in full, they will refuse to attack and instead hole up inside their warren. That would make our numbers advantage useless.”

“So what do you suggest?” Josh asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I have information that another two thousand ratkin are arriving in two weeks, so we have to act quick in order to take their base before that,” the prophet said, knitting its hands together over its stomach. “They can collapse their tunnels on command, that I can vouch for, so it would be gravely foolish to charge in. Instead, we start by clearing all the ratkin on the surface, blinding them from our following actions, and we set up barricades around their burrows. I know the location of their base, and more importantly, the location of the ventilation holes that allow Ratterinks to breathe. The ratkin can survive a day or two with low oxygen levels, but after that they will start to asphyxiate. So we cover up their ventilation holes and simply await them to emerge from their burrows to stop us, forcing them to fight on our terms.

The circle sat in silence as they imagined the sight of descending into Ratterinks and finding thousands of suffocated ratkin. The method was so cruel, so insidious, but when had the ratkin ever showed mercy to them? The mycelia and their thralls in the distance continued to work, the sounds of sawing and heaving and thudding backdropping their macabre thoughts.

Josh was the first to stir, openly blinking at the prophet. “It sounds you have it all prepared, so why haven’t you committed to it yet?”

The prophet laughed, a soft, melodic laugh. “I lack the power to make use of this information, after all, they have over twenty burrows in their territory. If I were to fan out my forces across these, they would be spread too thinly and allow the ratkin to break the barricade easily.”

Mina says it would be the same case even if we joined them. Josh rubbed his chin as if in thought while he listened to Iris sneak thoughts into his mind. They can use their sorcerers to blast a hole through our defences and pour out of a burrow - that’s enough for them to take the aboveground again. Likely we would win, but it’d come at a great cost of life. Lina also says it’s very plausible that the mycelia will trick us and take a lesser role until it’s over, when they’ll have enough corpses to raise and outnumber us and the ratkin. They can sweep through both of us then.

Josh grinned at this, beyond grateful at Lina’s copious military experience and Iris’s ability to sneak messages between them all without the prophet knowing. No doubt that Rolf and Amara would have caught these details either way at Riverside, but he would have been made a fool of until then. “I have a better plan than that: as you said, there are two thousand ratkin coming in two weeks, probably less now, but I’ve also heard from my mate that Talis doesn’t want this.”

Frowning, the fungal satyr inclined its head. “Go on.”

“You know Talis, their leader. The moment the additional troops come, it means he’s failed his mission to prove himself. They’ll strip that position from him and all. Because of that, he’ll be keen to wipe you out before that.”

“I don’t follow. Are the reinforcements coming not allies of his?” the prophet asked.

“No, they are. They’re all part of his family, but he’s here to prove himself, you know, like show he’s an able leader. If he can’t destroy you in that time period, he’s failed.”

“They would not strip his position for such a thing,” the prophet said assertively, the ridges in his brow deepening.

“What, why not?” Josh asked in confusion.

“Because he has not failed anything. It makes no sense for him to recklessly charge out when he can await reinforcements and wipe us out then. Patience is not a fault but rather a merit.”

He doesn’t think like us.

What do you mean? Josh sent back to Iris.

If what we know about Caen is right, then the two ruling factions were the Order of Tyr and the mycelia. Both of them are very rigid in their social structures - Avatars are always to be listened to, and all of the mycelia are the prophet’s creations. They would never disobey him or look to dethrone him; maybe he can’t comprehend being lowered from a position since it would never occur in his race, especially since Talis would be doing the right thing by waiting patiently.

So how can we convince him?

I don’t know.

Josh sighed, blinking at the prophet. “Listen, Talis isn’t a proper leader, alright - he’s just a temporary one. If he cannot take control of this area by the troops initially given to him, then it means he isn’t a suitable leader since there are others who can do just that. They want the best person leading, so getting more help would mean he’s no longer the best, even if he wins in the end.”

“And what makes you think the ratkin behave like this?”

This question really caught Josh off-guard as he opened his mouth to answer, then closed to reconsider. Indeed, what was to say the ratkin behaved like humans? It could just as well be that they instead behaved like the mycelia or the Order of Tyr with rigid social structures, so maybe Talis didn’t worry about the coming reinforcements as much as he eagerly awaited them. Riverside had all their information from a single ratman, who had been tortured on top of that, so what was to say their information was credible.

Seeing him falter, Lina took charge in the discussion. “We’re certain the ratkin will behave like that, based on our collected evidence. And so we’re equally certain the ratkin will come out in full force if you act as bait: they’ll come to wipe you out, but in reality it’ll all be a trap with us waiting in the shadows.”

For all her confidence, the fungal satyr shook its head all the same. “Then show me the evidence which makes you believe the ratkin will behave like this. It is not my desire to insult your intelligence, good humans, but I do not agree with your views. I would be placing my children in severe risk by forcing them to act as bait - you misplay during this trap of yours, and they could all die.”

Although Josh tried to hide his surprise at this statement, he still subconsciously gulped. That was exactly their plan from the start - if they could make the mycelia bait, then there was nothing to say they had to act quick when the ratkin came. Rather, it was in their interest to go in only after both factions had crippled each other through combat.

“Our evidence is that we’ve interrogated several ratmen for this information, in addition to having a mole in Ratterinks,” Lina said, not at all losing steam at being brushed off once. Josh felt she would have made a better leader than him for this task as she weaved truth with lie to make a convincing pie, her face a calm mask throughout.

While the prophet appeared unimpressed by the first statement, the second widened his eyes with surprise, his lips tugging at their ends. “Now that is impressive. Could I meet this mole of yours? If I hear the evidence from their mouth, then I am willing to go forward with your plan.”

Here, Mina faltered, and the Rooted Prophet grinned, swallowing her whole, confidence and lies and all. “Could it be you are referring to the curious messenger I encountered three days back? He certainly appeared competent.”

Take over, Iris told Josh, Don’t lose momentum.

“Yes, Silas’s the one who gave us the information,” Josh said. “He’s had direct contact with Talis, which is where he got it from.”

“Silas,” the prophet said softly as if savouring the word in its mouth. “Silas Wycliffe, level 48 Duellist, rank 86 for notable kills. I had suspected he was an impressive fellow.”

It couldn’t have been more obvious to Josh that he had messed up here as he had given information he shouldn’t have. All the more, he could tell at once the interest the prophet had in Silas wasn’t healthy, after all, their leaderboards weren’t visible for the other races. The only way the prophet could have known what it had just relayed was if it had a human feeding it this information, which suggested it had a long-standing interest in human rankers. Despite all this, it was clear the prophet wouldn’t be fooled by any denials they made, so Josh made the other decision that would allow them to reverse out of this situation.

“I’ll have to see if he wants to meet you,” he said, hoping he still looked collected from the outside. “I can see our battle plans won’t go forward until that, so we’ll be taking our leave now.”

“Oh, but I thought you had said you could contact people in your village with your communication monument,” the prophet said, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask him to come over?”

If Josh had been dumb, he would have missed the taunting tone in the fungal satyr’s question. It was clear it had known from the start that they were lying, and it was now teasing them over their initial bluster. Josh’s hand slipped for his gun, but the prophet and its creations made no move to attack, so he let it rest there. “Silas is a traditional fellow - he prefers to talk in person rather than over text, you know. We’ll return soon with our answer.”

The prophet smiled sweetly. “Of course. I look forward to your response.”

****

The prophet let them leave, chuckling freely at how they ran with their tails between their legs. They were far too green to be testing their guile against his; he had hoped to twist their words against them and force them into a plan advantageous to him. But through that he had heard something far more interesting that stole his attention now.

His clone body relayed the newly gathered intelligence to his real body at once, and his real body acted just as quickly, selecting troops to be sent over. He chose the three nearest powerful zombies: a former Foltrus, a drakkar ranker, and a fearsome pygmy troll. They would be enough to secure this area, and more importantly, secure the target when he came.