Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 76 - In death's shadow - Part Two

 

Unable to contain the enormity of the energy entering her body, Momoko diverted a portion of her regenerating MP to fuel her physical growth and delve deeper into the heart of the mountain. As her roots took in raw materials, Momoko increased the girth of her trunk and branches, lacing them with trace minerals.

 

In addition to reinforcing her body, the trace minerals served as a medium to increase Momoko’s ability to store Chi in preparation for future needs.

 

Burrowing through the stone core of the mountain was a slow and laborious affair.

 

As if sensing her difficulties, Momoko received unexpected assistance from her older brother, Pete.

 

The knowledge and ability to cast Several Spells entered her mind.

 

Using the Shape Stone Spell, Momoko turned large stretches of stone to sand, allowing her roots to surge through the mountain with far greater speed.

 

As the storm continued to rage above them, Momoko cemented her dominion over the mountain.

 

Now able to process and store the majority of the incoming energy, Momoko focused on cycling the energy through her body and passing the refined energy along to her brother. Pete then refined the energy further and returned it.

 

Forming a small but complete circuit, they both gradually internalised the refined energy and used it to expand their respective foundations. Allowing them to draw in more refined energy. However, Momoko’s instincts warned her that there was a limit to how much energy they could internalise.

 

If they pushed themselves too far too quickly, Heart Demons would establish a foothold in their souls and do potentially irreparable damage.

 

Deactivating the Artefact, Momoko shifted her MP toward growing her branches and extending her root network beyond the mountain.

 

“Sister, stop,” Pete warned, breaking from his meditative trance.

 

Trusting in her brother, Momoko did as he asked. “What is wrong?” She asked, unsure what would give him cause for the sudden warning.

 

“There are beasts outside of the barrier,” Pete replied grimly. “I can’t make it bigger...”

 

“Barrier?” Momoko expanded her senses and was alarmed to find that her older brother was right. Thousands of Beasts were gathered just beyond the limits of her outermost roots and had churned up the earth in their attempts to draw closer to them.

 

“Father’s barrier...” Pete elaborated, his expression darkening with repressed sadness. “It keeps the Humans and others safe from wild Beasts. The Beasts can’t cross over it...”

 

“Oh...I don’t know that Spell...” Momoko murmured distractedly.

 

“Not a Spell,” Pete corrected neutrally, “Father’s authority.”

 

“Oh...” Momoko repeated, suddenly becoming aware of another set of senses she hadn’t known she possessed until that moment. “Could we make it bigger...No...nevermind...” She felt the answer make itself known to her the moment she considered it. “Could we make others?” Momoko didn’t feel the same resistance, but it wasn’t encouraging either. She tried not to feel too disappointed or frustrated.

 

Momoko had intended to increase her size until she possessed enough raw power to bring balance to their father’s internal energy. Being hemmed in by the barrier and the Beasts beyond it was an obstacle, but not an insurmountable one.

 

Even if their sister, Suzy, was given the same foundation, they would still lack the raw power they required. So, Momoko decided to change her plans accordingly.

 

If they couldn’t rely on raw power, then they would need to learn finesse.

 

“We need a teacher,” Momoko insisted, looking to her brother for answers.

 

Pete silently considered the request for a handful of seconds and then nodded to himself. “Father recruited Cultivators to teach us,” he paused and pointed to the west. “They are over there.”

 

Momoko expanded her senses further and eventually confirmed his words for herself. However, she was having extreme difficulties separating herself according to her two bodies, which was a problem if she wanted to travel by using her limited authority.

 

“Big brother, could you take us there?” Momoko asked somewhat awkwardly, “Just us I mean, and not my tree?”

 

Pete considered the question for a moment, blinked both sets of eyelids, and then nodded confidently. “I can do that,” he agreed. Pete closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath.

 

Momoko suddenly became aware of her two selves gaining a tremendous degree of distance from each other. Although it wasn’t painful, the sensation of such a separation was uniquely unpleasant and left her feeling a profound sense of anxiety. However, the gentle hand of her brother on her shoulder diminished that anxiety considerably.

 

The empty stone buildings and streets surrounding them did not remain empty for long.

 

Several men and women in matching clothing and armour had appeared in the distance shortly after Momoko and her brother’s arrival. However, they made no signs of intending to draw closer.

 

Each Cultivator's armour bore a large sigil bearing a bright white flower resembling a water lily and contained a small measure of Chi. It wasn’t enough to present a threat, but enough that Momoko couldn’t ignore it either.

 

The Cultivators possessed a higher stage of Cultivation but lacked the advantages Momoko and her brother shared, making them considerably weaker in terms of the volume of their internal energy. Of course, they no doubt had Techniques to make better use of the internal energy they did have, so it would be unwise to dismiss them out of hand.

 

“The Faction Leader is coming,” Pete announced, looking down the large road and toward several approaching Cultivators Momoko could sense but not yet see. “They can’t hurt us,” Pete reassured her, squeezing her shoulders gently. “Father made them swear.”

 

Momoko nodded to show she understood and made an effort to calm herself.

 

Within a handful of minutes, the Faction Leader, accompanied by six elderly men and women, had arrived and immediately bowed their heads low in respect.

 

“I apologise for our rudeness,” the Faction Leader said earnestly. “I regret that I did not ask how those such as yourselves should be addressed...”

 

“Addressed?...” Pete rumbled slowly as if he were digesting the word to unlock its meaning.

 

“We are royalty,” Momoko interjected spiritedly. “Crown Prince and Princess are most fitting!” She tried not to sound overly excited, but it was a losing battle. The sometimes conflicting information in her head was in perfect agreement regarding the legitimacy and prestige of the titles.

 

“The Oba clan pays their respects to the Crown Prince and Princess of the Tyrant!” The Faction Leader and Cultivators, including those who remained at a distance, declared in near unison.

 

“Thank you,” Pete replied simply, directing his immediate attention to the Faction Leader. “My youngest sister says we need a teacher.” He spoke with his usual slow and deliberate pace, masking his discomfort with such long sentences with an almost perfect mask of impassivity.

 

The Faction Leader bowed and nodded in understanding. As if he had been expecting their arrival. Which he may have done, if her older brother’s earlier assertions were correct.

 

“Our grand elder, Oba Daigo, has been preparing dutifully to fulfil our obligations,” the Faction Leader asserted obediently. “Advanced age has lessened the grand elder’s mobility. However, the grand elder is the Oba clan’s most accomplished and worthy instructor in the path of Cultivation. I dare not presume to say the grand elder is worthy of providing the Crown Prince and Princess instruction. I only hope that the grand elder will prove himself in your eyes.” He bowed again, seemingly for good measure.

 

Pete looked to Momoko, leaving the decision up to her.

 

“Experience is more important than combat ability,” Momoko replied, reassuring her older brother. So long as the grand elder possessed the knowledge they required, or could learn and transfer that knowledge to them, his restricted mobility was of no concern.

 

The Faction Leader bowed once more for good measure and motioned respectfully back down the large road. “Then it would be my honour to escort the Crown Prince and Princess to the grand elder.”

 

Following behind the Faction Leader, Momoko held tight to her older brother’s hand, drawing comfort and reassurance from his steady heartbeat.

 

Easily more than twice Homoko’s size, her older brother had to slow his stride to avoid dragging her as he walked.

 

While most of the city was empty, the portion occupied by the Cultivators was as lively as a festival. At least, Homoko assumed that to be the case, having yet to experience a festival for a proper contrast. It was another inconsistency introduced by the conflicting information stored within her mind.

 

It came as little surprise to Momoko that her older brother received the overwhelming majority of the Cultivators' attention. Besides his immense size, Pete carried an unmistakable aura of command that demanded obedience from those around him.

 

What little attention Momoko received, made her feel increasingly uncomfortable. So it came as quite a relief when they left the crowds behind and entered a secluded garden hidden away within a high-walled courtyard.

 

“I beg your patience, highnesses, I will fetch the grand elder so he might attend to your needs,” the Faction Leader bowed respectfully and retreated out of the garden, taking the other Cultivators with him.

 

Releasing her brother’s hand, Momoko sat on a bench beneath a wizened cherry tree. Taking comfort in the welcoming aura of its nascent soul.

 

Pete strode into the small pond and laid down on his back, resting his shoulders on the muddy bank as he stared up at the sky. Without moving so much as a finger, he invested his Chi into the water and directed it over his otherwise dry and exposed skin. Little by little, the deepest tension lines in his face began to fade.

 

After a short wait, an elderly man in long dark robes supported by a sturdy wooden cane hobbled into the courtyard. His snow-white beard and moustache were cut short and his long wispy hair was pinned back with a ceremonial bone clasp. Deep wrinkles creased his face and his withered gnarled hands bore a closer resemblance to claws.

 

Yet, despite his obvious infirmities, the old man was still a Cultivator and a very powerful one at that. Momoko knew on an instinctual level that it would be dangerous to underestimate him. She also knew how she could make a favourable impression.

 

Cycling her Chi and MP, Momoko implored the nascent soul of the cherry tree for assistance.

 

Thrumming with joy, the cherry tree agreed.

 

“The grand elder of the Oba clan pays his respects to the Crown Prince and the Princess,” the old man, already bow-backed as he was, stiffly lowered his head in respect. His dark eyes, clouded by cataracts, widened as Pete emerged from the pond.

 

“Your eyes...” Pete rumbled distractedly, ignoring the greeting, or perhaps not having heard it to begin with. “They are so cloudy...Can you read?”

 

If the grand elder was upset by her older brother’s rudeness, he showed no signs of it and simply shook his head. “I must apologise to the Crown Prince. The years have taken a heavy toll despite my Cultivation and the best efforts of my family.”

 

“Hrm...” Pete gathered his MP and a split instant later, a Daemon had joined their conversation.

 

“Young master!” The rodent-like Daemon exclaimed in surprise, “How might I be of assistance?”

 

“Wraithe,” a small smile touched the corners of Pete’s lips. “Can you restore this man’s sight?” He asked, pointing a large finger toward the grand elder.

 

Wraithe circled the elderly man and considered him with intense interest. “Replacing the eyes would be simplest...Carry the fewest risks...” The Daemon muttered thoughtfully, wringing her long-clawed fingers with mild anxiety. “However, regrowing the lenses would be the least invasive...”

 

“Pardon, highness, I do not understand?” The grand elder apologised, baulking slightly under the Daemon’s intense scrutiny.

 

“Wraithe will fix your eyes,” Pete explained calmly. “Allow you to read again.”

 

“Ah...” The grand elder didn’t seem to know how to react. Which was reasonable considering the position he was in.

 

“The procedure will be mostly harmless,” Wraithe reassured the grand elder while taking a much closer look at his eyes. “Cutting off the nerves would make the procedure painless, but also take longer. I have also been told that it is a uniquely unpleasant experience feeling the nerves being reattached afterwards...”

 

“I am unfamiliar with the healing arts...” The grand elder admitted, somewhat taken aback. “Are you a physician?”

 

“I am a Surgeon,” Wraithe replied with a considerable degree of pride. “I attend to the Tyrant himself when he needs me.”

 

“Oh!” The grand elder’s surprise quickly gave way to immense gratitude. “I am honoured to have earned such consideration!”

 

“Yes yes,” Wraithe waved aside the implied flattery dismissively. “My time is limited and I will require an answer. Under normal circumstances, I would more fully explain the risks and methods involved in each procedure. However, this projection lacks the mana to fulfil such an obligation in addition to performing the required procedure. So, I urge you to make a decision.”

 

The grand elder nodded in understanding and furrowed his wrinkled brow as he considered his options. “I am not afraid of pain. It is an old friend. If I am to serve the Tyrant and his dynasty to the best of my abilities, I would ask you to restore my sight by the most guaranteed means.”

 

Wraithe huffed in approval, twitching her whiskers briefly before nodding to herself. “Alright then, replacements it is-”

 

“The cherries will help with the pain,” Momoko volunteered. She had copied the fruits from one of her mother’s trees and had intended to present them as a gift.

 

The Daemon plucked a cherry from the tree and nibbled at it with her large chisel-like teeth. “Possesses...pain suppressant and anti-inflammatory properties...Well done, mistress, most impressive.” She plucked a handful from the tree and pressed them into the grand elder’s hands. “Consume these, now, and be sure to chew them thoroughly without biting down on the seeds.”

 

The grand elder humbly did as he was commanded.

 

Then, without warning, Wraithe took hold of the grand elder’s arm with one hand and seized his head in the other.

 

Demonstrating considerable bravery, the grand elder remained silent as his aged eyes atrophied and slipped free of their sockets. It wasn’t until Wraithe released him and the grand elder opened his eyelids that he cried out for the first time.

 

“I can see!” The grand elder proclaimed with borderline manic excitement, his vivid green eyes flashing with the vitality and wonder of a young child. However, his excitement ebbed quite suddenly as he stared at his gnarled and swollen knuckled hands.

 

After determining the grand elder’s vision had been restored to her satisfaction, Wraithe disappeared.

 

“Highness, you have my undying gratitude for your act of kindness,” the grand elder bowed his head, demonstrating a greater degree of flexibility than he had only a few minutes prior.

 

Momoko felt a profound sense of pride in that fact.

 

Pete shrugged indifferently, probably made uncomfortable with receiving the compliment and not knowing what to say in reply.

 

“Teaching us what we need will be more than enough,” Momoko interjected, earning a grateful smile from her older brother.

 

“It will be my greatest honour to serve as your instructor, Highnesses.” the grand elder bowed again, this time with a little less formality. “If I may ask? Do your Highnesses have a specific subject or target of curiosity in mind?”

 

Momoko knew what she needed, but she didn’t know what the Technique would be called. “We need a Technique that can share and balance internal energy,” she explained while suppressing her fears that the elderly Cultivator would guess at their motivations. Undermining their father’s position was the last thing she wanted to happen.

 

“That...is an incredibly advanced...and dangerous, Technique,” the grand elder cautioned diplomatically. “For most Cultivators, the act of sharing energy is considered quite difficult-” His voice caught in his throat and his eyes widened in surprise as he realised Momoko had initiated such an exchange with her older brother. “-Of course, talented individuals such as yourselves may see things differently...”

 

“The danger is why we need you,” Momoko explained, already aware of her limitations. “This is as easy as breathing,” an irony given that she didn’t, strictly speaking, need to breathe at all.

 

“I see...” The grand elder replied, still visibly shocked by their display of aptitude in manipulating energy and Chi.

 

Momoko felt the grand elder’s perception sweep over herself and her older brother.

 

“And such solid foundations...” The grand elder chuckled softly and shook his head. “I should have expected as much from a Monarch’s descendants.” With a stiff wave of his hand, a leather-backed book was withdrawn from the depths of his soul. “The Malevolent Soul Transmission Technique, despite its intimidating name, would also allow a benevolent exchange of internal energy, assuming it is performed with a high degree of proficiency.”

 

“Then you will teach us this Technique!” Momoko insisted eagerly.

 

The grand elder held up one hand, imploring patience. “I am sorry, but I must insist upon a certain degree of patience. This Technique is incredibly dangerous and requires a spirit refining Technique to mitigate the greatest risks.”

 

“Then teach us this second Technique,” Pete demanded flatly.

 

“Of course,” the grand elder agreed, “I will be only too happy to teach your Highnesses a spirit-refining Technique once I have obtained the necessary resources, I must humbly beg for your patience while arrangements are being made.”

 

“What materials?” Pete asked, refusing to let the matter go.

 

The grand elder deflated somewhat. “I will be honest with Your Highness, the Oba clan’s stores of Cultivation materials and medicines are severely depleted. The herbalists are confident that the first crop of medicinal herbs will be ready within five weeks, and that rarer herbs can be obtained from the wilds-”

 

“Show me the fields!” Momoko demanded, hopping spritely to her feet.

 

“Of course, Highness,” the grand elder dipped his head respectfully and motioned toward the northern entrance to the courtyard.

 

Surveying the fields of medicinal herbs and exotic vegetation, Momoko was inclined to agree with the herbalists' estimates. Without an array to draw in and concentrate the ambient energies, those tending to the fields were forced to do their best to emulate the process.

 

However, waiting five weeks was unacceptable.

 

Gathering her Chi and MP, Momoko enveloped the closest of the fields in her spirit.

 

The vegetation soaked in her Chi and mana, growing at an unbelievably accelerated rate, accomplishing months of growth in a handful of seconds.

 

The effect was amplified further when her older brother lent his strength to hers, providing additional Chi and MP, allowing Momoko to cover another field.

 

Separated from her other self, Momoko knew better than to push herself beyond her limits and left herself with roughly a third of her established capacity in reserve.

 

“I...I had never dared to presume to witness such an event with my own eyes...” The grand elder breathed hoarsely in amazement. “To exercise such control over the Wood Affinity while so young...it is indeed a humbling experience...”

 

“Can you teach us now?” Pete asked somewhat impatiently. Frowning slightly as he watched the herbalists begin to harvest the fields with immense care.

 

“The materials still need to be processed-” The grand elder began to explain but was abruptly cut off as the Alchemist Jin appeared in front of him.

 

Seemingly just as surprised as the grand elder, Jin leapt back several paces in one bound and looked around the area in alarm. After spotting Momoko, he appeared to relax.

 

“You will help prepare the materials,” Pete commanded, pointing to the grand elder and then to the herbalists in the fields. “Tell Jin what to do.”

 

“Ah, of course...” Jin replied nervously, “However, may I return to my workshop first? I was in the middle of a rather volatile experiment...”

 

Pete grunted in the affirmative and Jin disappeared. “Jin is an Alchemist,” he stated bluntly using an explanation.

 

“Ah...” The grand elder didn’t seem to know what to say but appeared quite impressed. “I am not familiar with this Technique...”

 

“Father’s Technique,” Pete lied, bending the truth to conceal his use of authority and making it clear through his tone that he would not appreciate further inquiries.

 

Taking the hint, the grand elder shifted topics. “I know of two spirit-refining Techniques, that suit your Highnesses unique Affinities-” He smiled and seemed bemused by the statement. “I must apologise, it is every instructor's dream to have a hand in teaching such gifted students.”

 

“Thank you,” Momoko beamed, gladdened to receive such unsolicited praise.

 

“Two Techniques?” Pete pressed, returning focus to the primary subject of the conversation.

 

“Ah, yes, the Tranquil-Waves Refinement Technique and the Immolating-Soul Refinement Technique. Of course, each has its strengths and weaknesses. However, Tranquil-Waves is perhaps better suited to your needs,” the grand elder explained patiently. “Besides increasing your ability to replenish Chi, the Tranquil-Waves also allow increased absorption rate of special medicines and Elixirs when consumed in liquid form. Additionally, while I cannot confirm as much for certain, the Water Affinity will likely enhance this effect.”

 

“And the other one?” Pete pressed.

 

The grand elder hesitated. “The Immolating-Soul Refinement Technique produces faster results. However, it carries unavoidable risks relating to overstraining the spirit. The Cultivator I took this Technique from did not have a natural Fire Affinity. So I am uncertain how the Affinity would influence the primary effects...”

 

“What do spirit refining Techniques do?” Momoko asked, confused by the unexpected gap in her inherited knowledge.

 

“In their simplest terms?” The grand elder pondered the question for a few moments before arriving at an answer. “A spirit refining Technique serves a similar purpose to breathing Techniques, except the process draws upon your internal energy rather than the ambient energy surrounding us. Replenishing Chi and accelerating the recovery of the body rather than developing and building upon your internal energy.”

 

“Why do we need it?” Momoko asked. “If it doesn’t increase or reinforce our internal energy, how is it supposed to help?”

 

The grand elder smiled patiently and nodded in understanding. “Spirit refining Techniques are typically associated with combat. However, they also provide the means to prolong or intensify the effects of certain pills and Elixirs. Bolstering the soul through the use of special medicines reduces the risks of the Malevolent Soul Transmission Technique. Which is why I must insist upon learning the spirit refining Technique first.”

 

“Makes sense,” Pete agreed with a grunt of impatience.

 

“What about body refining Techniques?” Momoko asked, committed to making the most of their opportunity. “What Techniques can you teach us?”

 

The grand elder was slightly taken aback. “The Tyrant entrusted an extensive number of Technique manuals to our clan’s safekeeping,” he hedged while better considering her question. “To my knowledge, there are twenty-six body refining Techniques, many of which would synergise with one or more Affinities.”

 

“Father will want guidance,” Pete commented introspectively before directing his attention back toward the grand elder. “What body refining Technique would make me strongest?”

 

“Forgiveness, Highness, it is a complicated question and has many potential answers...” The grand elder hedged. “Certain Techniques would benefit more from a combination of Affinities than others, and brute strength is not necessarily superior to enhanced agility, perception or insight...It very much depends upon the individual and their personal talents.”

 

“What about...durability?” Pete pressed.

 

“Durability?” The grand elder repeated.

 

“Resistance to physical harm,” Pete reiterated, ennunciating each syllable with deliberate care.

 

“Several Techniques come to mind,” the grand elder volunteered. “Although, the most effective Techniques require enduring considerable pain to achieve their mastery.”

 

“Father doesn’t fear pain,” Pete replied darkly, confusing the grand elder.

 

“If pain is not a consideration, the Crucible Of One Thousand Blades would provide an immense degree of resilience to physical forms of attack...” The grand elder answered hesitantly. “However, the training regimen borders on suicide. Mastery of the Technique requires an initiate to accept strikes from an opponent's blade against their bare unprotected flesh...”

 

Pete remained undeterred, which Momoko found rather upsetting. “What about a technique for my big brother?” She asked, wanting to change the subject. “Something that won’t get him killed.”

 

“With all due respect, Princess, no body-tempering Technique is without risk. However, I understand your intentions and would suggest the Jade Mountain Reinforcement Technique, which provides resistance against physical and spiritual attacks, and a measure of increased Strength., alternatively, the Heart of Celestial Waters Technique, which provides considerable resistance to spiritual attacks and increased Agility and speed. Each has their strengths and would benefit from one or more of His Highness’ Affinities.”

 

“Techniques would increase stats?” Pete asked, confused by the grand elder’s explanation and reminding Momoko that he was not born with the same knowledge that she had been taking for granted.

 

“I will speak with my big brother alone,” Momoko declared, seizing Pete’s hand with both of her own and dragging him back toward the courtyard so they could speak in private.

 

The grand elder bowed respectfully. He watched them leave for a few moments and then turned his attention toward the excited herbalists in the fields.

 

Momoko waited until her big brother had made himself comfortable in the pond again before explaining.

 

“Big brother, Techniques are like Abilities. Some are simple and will make you faster or stronger, giving Momentum or something like that. Understand?” Momoko asked, wanting to be sure her brother understood before moving on to the next subject.

 

Pete slowly nodded.

 

“Body tempering Techniques are much stronger and often have a passive and an active set of Abilities. Depending on the Technique, the active Ability might be a strengthened version of the passive effect, or it could be something else entirely...”Momoko paused for a few moments to scan through her imprinted knowledge base and provide an example. “The Iron Body Tempering Technique, which is common knowledge to most Cultivators-” She assumed, considering its fundamentally basic nature. “-provides resistance to damage by passively increasing the Toughness of the practitioner concerning their reserves of internal energy. The higher their mastery of the Technique, and the more internal energy they have, the more Toughness stat they gain. But the Technique also has an active component, allowing the practitioner to spend Chi to close their wounds and expel poisons and venoms from their body. Did this explanation help?”

 

Pete nodded slightly but it was obvious that he still had questions. “How do you find internal energy numbers?” He asked anxiously. “I can’t see them.”

 

“Oh...” Momoko felt a rush of embarrassment. “It is represented by your Ranks in the Eternal Tau, big brother.”

 

“Hmm...” Pete frowned and slowly drew together his brow in confusion. “The number is the same as my Chi?” He asked uncertainly.

 

“It can be,” Momoko replied supportively. “But special treasures can change that number. So it’s not always accurate to judge it that way.” Her other body had access to a substantial volume of externally stored Chi. It was less readily accessible during a fight and wouldn’t carry Affinities without special preparation, but was otherwise no different to the Chi stored within both of her selves.

 

“Oh...” Pete’s frown intensified and then faded away. “If they are so powerful, why not learn more than one body tempering Technique?” He asked curiously.

 

“Not all Techniques are compatible, and body tempering only works when it has no competition...” Momoko hadn’t been sure of the answer until he had asked the question, so she decided to continue thinking the problem through. “But sometimes, you can develop a new Technique. Most of the advanced Techniques were made by combining basic Techniques through trial and error. Which can easily prove to be fatal...”

 

Pete nodded, accepting her explanation without contest. Demonstrating a profound degree of trust in her words. “Otherwise, Chi is just MP?”

 

“Chi is just MP,” Momoko agreed with a grin.

 

“But what about Affinities?” Pete asked. “He said different Affinities fit better with different Techniques?”

 

“It’s not complicated,” Momoko replied reassuringly. “Just think about how having increased control over water might prove useful if you cast an ice Spell or something like that. You could make it suddenly change shape, or size, or move unpredictably.”

 

“Makes sense...” Pete agreed distractedly, stepping back a step just in time to narrowly avoid being tackled to the ground by his twin.

 

Suzy had appeared from nowhere, using authority to travel just as they had done.

 

“Pete being bad!” Suzy growled. “Making Mama sad!”

 

Pete scowled darkly, but there was a look of hurt in his eyes. “I am helping Father!” He growled defensively.

 

“Running away!” Suzy accused with a sneer. “Pete always run!”

 

Pete’s confidence wavered. “I am doing my part...”

 

“Bleh!” Suzy stuck out her tongue in disgust and levelled her gaze on Homoko. “Why you here?” She demanded bluntly, her eyes glimmering with a desire for violence. “You take Pete?” Despite the clumsiness of her words, there was no escaping or overlooking the unmistakable threat carried in her voice.

 

Less than half her older sister’s size, and nowhere close to being as physically gifted, Momoko chose to run first and try to explain herself later.

 

***** Amun ~ The Hive ~ Antioch’s Realm *****

 

Amun stood in the centre of the hall of judgement and patiently awaited the inevitable. He had failed in his duties several times over and there was only one punishment that would meet the severity of his crimes.

 

Death.

 

Amun had witnessed only one such execution in his life and had never expected to meet such a fate himself. However, after reflecting upon his actions, he knew that he would have only done one thing differently.

 

The codes of honourable engagement as decreed by the ancestor had been followed to the best of his ability. It was Amun’s personal failings, lowering his guard on the cusp of victory, that had earned him this fate.

 

Failing to protect his mate and personal charge was a mortal sin, and Amun would offer no excuses for his failure.

 

Amun took what solace he could in the fact that his adversary had all but proven himself as an omega candidate. It was his sincere hope that another member of the warrior caste would succeed where he had failed, and capture the candidate for closer inspection.

 

Increased activity from the workers scuttling in the shadows announced the approach of a Norn Queen.

 

Already standing at attention, Amun remained perfectly still, blending his dark carapace into the deep shadows of the chamber. He knew it would not hide him from the Norn Queen’s notice, but there was no point in deliberately antagonising the Norn Queen either. Drawing needless attention to himself in such circumstances would only invite further trouble.

 

Rather than pass through the chamber, the Norn Queen, protected by a shield of living bodies, made her way to an observation alcove.

 

As best as Amun could guess, the Norn Queen was one of Kema’s mentors and had come to witness his execution to satisfy a desire for justice.

 

Minutes passed in silence before members of the soldier caste began forming orderly ranks around the periphery of the chamber. Any soldier not explicitly commanded to perform other duties would attend the ceremony. To watch as Amun was taken apart, piece by piece in payment for his failure. To serve as a reminder.

 

As time continued to pass, larger and more venerated members of his caste took up positions against the far walls. The eldest, and largest, were more than four times his size. Their chitinous shells were scarred with echoes of battles fought in their youth. Battles that carved out the borders that would form the Dominion.

 

Centuries-old, each of the venerated elders had seen more combat than thousands of their younger kin combined. An honour Amun would never earn.

 

Suppressing his disappointment, Amun could hear the muted clicking and clacking of the assembled warriors' whispers.

 

Without a connection formed by a Norn, they had to resort to primitive signals and speech to communicate. However, with so many warriors conversing simultaneously, Amun couldn't understand anything that was being said. Anything besides the same words that were repeated over and over again with such repetition that it was impossible for him not to notice.

 

Failure...Disgrace...Execution...

 

If it was allowed, Amun would have long since removed his head to end his shame. To do so now would only bring greater shame, not only upon himself but the warrior caste itself.

 

So, Amun bore his shame with what little grace and dignity he could gather and awaited his judgement.

 

The Justiciar was the eldest of all the warrior caste and stood so tall that he nearly scraped the ceiling with the top of his head. Were it not for the efforts of the workers, expanding the hall to accommodate his size with each passing year, he would have done so long ago.

 

Carapace gilt with gold and encrusted with priceless jewels, the Justiciar was not only the oldest and highest appointed member of the warrior caste. He was also Consort Primaris to the council of Norn Queens. The progenitor of many across all castes.

 

If the legends were true, the Justiciar was older than any of the living members of the Hive. A hatchling from the founding and a witness to the majesty of The Creator.

 

Through his mere presence, the Justiciar imposed immediate and absolute silence upon the chamber.

 

“Duty and honour.” The two words effortlessly carried through the chamber and stirred the hearts of the warrior caste. “These words and what they represent, have incredible power,” the Justiciar spoke with practised ease, pacing every rhythmic breath to allow for uninterrupted speech. “Duty provides us with purpose and honour compels obedience. Without them, we are lost. Doomed to endure the suffering of the lesser Species. Forever mewling and stumbling about in search of purpose and direction.” The Justiciar raised his arms toward the ceiling in open supplication. “Through The Creator, we have unity. We have a purpose!”

 

Amun became confused, unfamiliar with the divergence taking place in what was ordinarily a predictable procedure of events.

 

“For generations, we have pursued our mandated purpose with diligence and dignity. Enduring failure with boundless grace and humility...” The Justiciar paused, lowering his arms and slowly panning his gaze over the assembled members of his caste. “Warrior Amun fought with honour against a worthy foe. Yet he failed to protect a Norn, failed to uphold his duty.”

 

Amun felt the collective weight of every warrior's gaze bearing down on him and prepared himself for the end.

 

“However...” The word cut through the oppressive silence like a scything talon, drawing all eyes from Amun and back to the Justiciar. “Warrior Amun’s actions have confirmed the presence of THE omega candidate, and such an act in service to The Creator will not go unrewarded or unrecognised!”

 

Clacks, chitters and clicks erupted around the chamber but were brought to an immediate end as the Justiciar stared them down.

 

“In recognition of his contributions in prosecuting The Creator’s will, warrior Amun will lead the vanguard to seize the omega subject.” The Justiciar pulled a sharp pointed diamond from its carapace and carefully drove it into the chitin covering Amun’s brain.

 

The diamond passed through his chitin with effortless ease and punctured the soft flesh beneath.

 

Staring into the eyes of the Justiciar, Amun realised that his execution would continue, just not as he had expected. Surrendering himself to the inevitable, Amun welcomed his death.

 

A pulse of mana passed through the diamond and Amun ceased to be.

 

***** Albert ~ Ghelk City ~ Former city of the Confederacy *****

 

Standing atop the outermost wall of the human city, Albert couldn’t help but stare at the distant war camps on the horizon.

 

The human world was far larger than he could ever have imagined.

 

Unfortunately, there were many times more humans as well.

 

Albert wouldn’t know the exact numbers until the Scouts returned, but he could see well enough through the long tube of his farseeing glass to know that the seventh legion was severely outnumbered.

 

Possessing defensive works and higher terrain would count for something, but the humans had brought a staggering number of Slaves. They possessed so many Slaves, that Albert was confident that the humans would be able to deplete the seventh legion’s ammunition stores and still have Slaves left over.

 

Making matters worse, more human armies were arriving with each passing hour and entrenching their respective positions. Hemming in the seventh legion and denying any chance of leaving the city.

 

It came as a small comfort that the seventh legion’s standing orders had been to fortify and hold the city. Sallying out against such odds would have been outright suicidal.

 

Stepping down from the wall, Albert decided to take his mind off of the dangers outside by performing an inspection of his men.

 

Performing a headcount, while his men stood at attention, Albert realised that several troopers were missing. Even accounting for the losses sustained when taking the city, the numbers didn’t add up.

 

With Six and Eleven on his heels, Albert performed a thorough search of the abandoned buildings that served as the barracks for his men.

 

Finding no trace of them, Albert began expanding his search.

 

Growing increasingly concerned that the humans had secret means of entering the city at their leisure, Albert struggled to keep his paranoia in check. However, as he drew closer to the outdoor prison containing the captured humans, his paranoia turned to disgust and anger.

 

A handful of troopers standing outside of an abandoned building bolted at his approach, leaving several rifles standing upright against the wall of the building.

 

Pitiful pleading and pain-filled moans came from the broken windows of the building, accompanied by deeper primal grunting.

 

“These troopers have abandoned their posts...” Albert muttered hoarsely, fighting hard to suppress his rage. “Arrest them...”

 

“Sir!” Six and Eleven barked in immediate reply, readying their weapons and preparing to enter the building.

 

“Kill any trooper that resists!” Albert snarled, seizing the rifles by the door and binding them together by their straps.

 

Every rifle bore a serial code that could be matched to the trooper it was entrusted to. Two of the rifles belonged to troopers who had fled, the remainder belonged to those within.

 

Albert would issue a warrant for those who had escaped but doubted they would be found unless he offered up some sort of reward in exchange. The near-identical appearance of the troopers made it possible to dodge such investigations with disturbing frequency. However, a trooper's desire for recognition and fast-tracked citizenship was a powerful tool.

 

Eight troopers, bound at the neck and in varying states of undress, marched awkwardly out of the building with Six and Eleven following closely behind.

 

“Why are you not at your posts?!” Albert hissed angrily.

 

The troopers cowed but said nothing.

 

“This is a dereliction of duty!” Albert seethed, his mind racing as he tried to determine how far he could stretch the law.

 

Depending upon the severity of the infraction, the punishment could be as little as several lashes on the skin of their backs.

 

Looking through one of the broken windows, Albert made his decision.

 

Drawing his sabre, Albert swept the blade through the first trooper's jugular.

 

Their victims were human, an ancient enemy of his people.

 

He drove the point of his sabre through the next three trooper’s throats with one thrust.

 

Just because the humans were murderous barbarians, it did not mean they should sink to the humans’ level.

 

The remaining four troopers attempted to run but were shot in the back by Six and Eleven.

 

“Attempting to evade lawful arrest,” Six announced impartially and began reloading his rifle.

 

“Bolted the moment they hit the street,” Eleven commented with a shrug as he did the same. “Should we clean this up?” He asked, kicking at the dead troopers.

 

Albert grunted in the affirmative.

 

All at once, he realised what he had done.

 

“Oh shit...” Albert swore under his breath, wincing as he looked at the trooper bodies littering the street. He could be demoted for this.

 

Unless...

 

Albert spun on his heel and began briskly walking in the direction of their field headquarters. Making sure to keep the bundle of rifles tightly pinned beneath his arm.

 

Rehearsing a more favourable and provocative series of events in his mind, Albert believed he was as prepared as he could expect to be.

 

Entering the large stone building that served as the field headquarters, Albert approached the General’s command station, saluted and stood at attention. Without urgent news to report, he would be expected to remain this way until the General saw fit to address him.

“Captain? Why are you not with your men?” The General demanded, his dark orange eyes narrowing in an open show of dislike.

 

“Sir!” Albert made a fresh salute, just for good measure and was relieved when the old General relaxed somewhat. “I was performing a routine inspection of my men, in preparation for a potential enemy attack, and discovered several troopers were missing.”

 

“Missing?” The General repeated, his eyes hardening and ears stiffening almost immediately. “They didn’t try to desert, did they?” He growled quietly.

 

“Not as such, sir,” Albert presented the bundle of rifles but didn’t set them on the war table. “I found them indulging their carnal desires using human prisoners. Having abandoned their posts and leaving us potentially vulnerable to a counterattack while in dereliction of their duties!”

 

“Thinblooded scum!” The General hissed venomously under his breath before rounding on Albert again. “What did you do with them?!” He demanded.

 

“Several troopers fled before I could question them and confirm their identities and eight others raised their hands against me as my seconds and I attempted to apprehend them,” Albert explained while taking care to remain one step lower in intensity than the General. “We had no choice but to execute them on the spot.”

 

“Yes...” The General nodded in understanding, “Yes, we can’t have troublemakers returning and fomenting revolt in the ranks!”

 

‘I agree sir!” Albert nodded seriously, his face a mask of concern. “And to stop such an event from recurring, I would like to volunteer as warden.”

 

The General appeared surprised by the request and gave Albert an appraising look. “I hope you do not take offence, Captain, but I had you pegged as a social climber.”

 

“No offence taken, General,” Albert bowed his head respectfully. “I have a mother and three siblings at home to support. While I would never pass up a promotion, our mission is too important to jeopardise for the sake of potential advancement.” He took a deliberate pause and made sure to look disappointed. “I know there is more glory in serving a post on the walls. But If I can prevent more troopers from falling to indolence, then I will have made a far greater contribution to our inevitable victory. Keeping a few hundred troopers' rifles pointed in the right direction may prove to be exactly what we need in the battles ahead.”

 

The elderly General smiled and nodded approvingly. “You're a good sort, Captain?”

 

“Monet, my General,” Albert supplied helpfully, “Albert, Monet.”

 

“Very good, Captain Monet. Effective immediately, I am assigning you the post as a warden over our prisoners of war,” The General scribbled a note down on his ledger and then gave Albert a crisp salute. “See that you give them no quarter,” he insisted, “Troopers and humans both!”

 

Albert returned the General’s salute and crisply nodded in the affirmative. “You can be sure of it, General. I will not let you down.”

 

Leaving the field office, Albert briskly jogged down the cobbled street so he could reunite with his bodyguards and explain the extent of their new duties. Leaving them behind had left him vulnerable, but Albert suspected that the General would have had far more probing questions for the two troopers if they had been present.

 

All things considered, and provided he made it back to his bodyguards in one piece, Albert thought things had gone rather well.

 

At least for the time being, the crisis caused by his impulsive actions had been averted.