It was hard to be truly alone when surrounded by thousands, but as they made their way further into the sea of grass, it became easier to pretend, especially once night fell. Somewhere ahead of them, scouts probed in all directions with carved whistles that sounded loud, shrill notes, and behind them columns of men, women, and horses stretched for miles. 

Here, though, with the waving stalks of grass to dampen the sound, it was easy to imagine that it was just the four of them again. It was a nice thought, even if he realized they would probably never have that luxury again. 

They certainly didn’t have the luxury of camping tonight, at least not according to Matt, even if walking for the last twelve hours seemed a little bit like overkill to Benjamin. Not that he blamed the guy. With everything that had just happened and a trail so wide that a herd of blind elephants could follow it, they needed to move and continue to put as much distance between themselves and whatever retribution it was that the Summoner Lords had planned. Sleep could come sometime tomorrow, hopefully.

“It feels weird to be going somewhere without a destination in mind,” Benjamin said finally, just to break the silence. 

“We do know where we’re going through,” Matt shot back. “West - toward the inner sea.”

“Kinda broad, don’t you think?” Raja laughed. “That’s like saying we’re heading to the Pacific, specifically. Don’t you think we could narrow that down to a state or maybe a city? We could—”

“We can burn down every city on our way there until you find one you like,” Matt answered. 

They weren’t heading toward any of the cities right now, though. This deep in the grasslands, those were all along the river. They weren’t even really heading toward the populated part of the inner sea. They were just moving to get lost and make their enemies wonder what it was they were up to. Benjamin had no idea how far they would have to travel away from the Rhulvinarian forces for the fae to reach out to them once more, but he was sure it wouldn’t be too far. 

That turned out to be almost laughably wrong. The following day, some terrible weapon only missed their campsite by a few miles, and Benjamin was woken by a pillar of fire stretching to the sky on the horizon. 

It faded almost as quickly as it appeared, but after a moment, it lit up the night with a sickly green night and washed out the stars. The light and the shockwave were enough to wave everyone up.

“They just tried to nuke us,” Benjamin said to Raja when his friend woke up looking for someone to shoot. 

“Did they?” Matt asked. “How do you know that was a weapon and not a portal to bring in a weapon?”

For a moment, images of a giant lizard attacking Tokyo washed across his mind, but he pushed them down. Not only could he not remember what they were about, but they were too terrible to contemplate.

“I mean, that’s possible,” he said, “not totally sure, but I think we should get moving either way. We don’t know if that was the only one.”

For the next few hours, they talked excitedly about what was and why it might have been missed so completely, but there were no answers. Was it a weapon or a portal? Were there more? Was there some sort of magical radiation that, even now, might be sickening them? 

No one had any idea, but Benjamin kept a close eye on his party interface, and Matt used a couple diagnostic spells, and neither of them saw anything concerning. Despite that, the very fact that it had happened raised the tension several degrees and made one thing very clear: their enemies were no longer trying to take prisoners to learn who it was that was attacking them, and they were no longer trying to rescue their prince. The only thing that the Summoner Lords wanted now was to murder every last one of them.

It was a sobering thought. It hounded him almost as much as the phantom armies that either were or were not chasing them across the claustrophobic grass jungle. 

It took three days of walking before they were met by centaurs led by a stallion named Gwarn. Many of the centaurs looked and smelled so similar that it was only his demeanor that set him apart from Thorga. The centaurs tossed them skins of blood wine and demanded that they drink up to celebrate their mighty victories. 

Benjamin and everyone else he passed the skin to managed to choke some of the wine down, but it was as powerful as the skin was big, and it left him with watering eyes before he handed off the bloated wine skin to Raja. 

“To your victories!” They roared, in cheer after cheer, discussing the demolition of Arden like it was one of the greatest battles of their age. Maybe it was. Benjamin wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it felt good to be cheered on rather than talked down to as the centaurs led them to some secret camp of the Throne. 

Along the way, they talked about how some of the other smaller armies that the herds accompanied were doing, but the results there were mixed. Some managed to sack two dozen plantations before their horns stopped working, but others were less successful. 

“Only one of your slave armies has been eradicated, though,” Gwarn said, smiling like it was the best news he’d heard all day. “I expected much worse from you manthings. You have acquitted yourself well.”

They all tried to ask more detailed questions about those battles, among other things. Matt peppered them with questions about how the Rhulvinarian tactics had changed, and they even answered a few of those, but most questions were simply shrugged as their guides told them, “This is a matter for the storyteller, not for us.”

Even questions about the tower of green flame that had stretched all the way to the sky were pushed aside. “That is for us to worry about, not you little man things. You have more important tasks ahead of you.”

Benjamin raised an eyebrow at that, but he didn’t force the issue. At this point, he was tired. They’d gotten 2 nights of sleep in the last four, and in all that time, they’d walked 100 miles deeper into the middle of nowhere. 

Finally, as the sun began to set the height of the grass receded to waist height, and he could see a rocky hill in the distance. They continued to walk toward that and eventually stumbled on another assortment of clay people who were both young and old, preparing an even grander feast around a series of bonfires. 

It was like the last celebration they’d attended in every way, only ten times larger. That made sense, given the huge army they had compared to last time, but it still made Benjamin nervous as he recalled how out of his mind he’d gotten on their psychedelic punch last time. 

Only water for me this time, he promised himself. 

That was when they got their first surprise of the night. As soon as they got closer, they realized there were other people there. For a moment, he thought they were more beastkin, but they were, in fact, humans. 

“So this is where she was keeping them,” Matt said. “I was wondering about that.”

Benjamin nodded as he looked around and recognized a few of the faces. This camp was packed with some of the men and women they’d rescued early on in their campaign. The Throne of the Sky Sea had vowed to take care of them, but that hadn’t stopped Benjamin from worrying about their fate.

They seemed to be well, though. In many cases, they seemed better than ever. Those who had been missing limbs had found replacements made out of clay, and all of them seemed to be in better spirits than when they’d been left behind. 

The combination of the two groups resulted in a huge mass of people. It was like a rave or a music festival, and though Benjamin greeted everyone who crossed his path and shook as many hands as he could, he was drawn inexorably toward the large tortoise man by the central fire that had told them all so many stories last time. 

“On behalf of the Throne, I greet you and offer you her congratulations on all of your efforts to date,” Brauchus told them in a deep voice. 

“And we thank you for your hospitality as always,” Benjamin said with a smile. 

As greetings were exchanged, and skewers of roasted meat were passed out by clay people, Benjamin couldn’t help but think about what a soft target this was and how easily the Rhulvinar could end the whole insurrection with a bomb dropped on this single spot. It worried him enough to bring it up, but his concerns were quickly dismissed. 

“We are hundreds of miles away from their nearest settlement, and scouts of every sort have been scattered in all directions,” the tortoise man assured him, “Besides, what you saw that day was not a weapon; it was an infestation, and it is already being dealt with.”

“An infestation?” Raja asked. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It is not,” the Storyteller nodded, lifting a large wooden pipe and lighting the bowl with a flaming bit of straw. “But it is not the first time that those monsters have resorted to such measures, nor will it be the last.”

“What did they unleash?” Benjamin asked. “Do you need our help?”

The tortriseman’s only response was to spend several seconds inhaling from his long-stemmed pipe. Benjamin noted that the creature’s lungs were probably each bigger than a man. When he released the smoke from his lungs, though, Benjamin noticed something else: there were pictures in the smoke. Images were moving. 

It was hazy and hard to make out the details, but it showed a part of the grass sea, like any other. There were figures moving, though it was hard to tell if they were human or something else. Then suddenly, there was a blinding light as fire leaped through the smoke, turning green as a yawning portal opened up to show the brief silhouette of a rocky, craggy peak. One second, there were just fields of wavering grass, and the next, there was a brushfire that illuminated rocky crags that were pockmarked with cliffs. 

It was an ominous image, and there were figures moving at the edge of that light, but the smoke cleared before Benjamin could see what they were exactly. Then it faded out to dull grey smoke that drifted away on the night breeze. 

“We can go back and purge whatever that is,” Benjamin declared, looking briefly at his friends as he made the offer. “We could—”

“There is no need,” Brauchus intoned. “These are not the first goblins that those sorcerers have summoned onto our lands. If they cannot have them, then they will aim to strip them bare so that no one can.”

“Despicable,” Emma spat, staring at the fire. 

“Indeed,” the Storyteller agreed, “But you were not brought here to listen to such sad tales. You are here to share the songs of your victory so that we might all learn from it and grow stronger.”

Benjamin took another bit to give himself a few minutes to think. He knew that this was where the whole thing was leading, but still, he found himself a little on the spot, and he struggled to decide where to start. They had won some great victories, but even if they’d completely defeated the Rhulvinarian, he was pretty sure he’d still feel weird bragging about it.