Lagt’s force may have ignored the goliaths even up until when their bronze bodies dwarfed the goblins, but once they advanced into the fifth class after two months of marching, each one large enough to use fourth class goblins as weapons, they became impossible to ignore. The first to breach the valley between groups were the weapon enthusiasts. They were almost instantly rebuffed because the goliaths refused to use their ancestors to create weapons that would be disseminated among the army.

 

A few were persistent enough to be allowed to try making weapons for the goliaths to use out of their bronze and weaker skins. They quickly set to work, but found that testing was pointless. Any weapon big enough that it felt like a weapon to the enormous goliaths was so massive goblins were sent flying regardless of the design, but any strike against another goliath would bend around their iron flesh without doing any damage. Another issue they faced was that they were still class three while trying to work on weapons for class five monsters. An issue that drove a frenzy into the hearts of Lagt’s whole army. It seemed that they hadn’t noticed that the goliaths were now the dominant force in the army. This culminated in a face-off between Lagt and Aughil. Lagt stared, thoughts and feelings whirling through her will-core like a maelstrom while Aughil was mostly confused why she’d approached and said nothing for so long. Eventually, she bolted back to her camp, her harem following with extreme anxiety.

 

After that, the goliath camp was inundated with the curious. The majority of the humans and goblins had a different reaction, though. They closed off even more, but their attention was on advancing themselves. A rare specialization, even in Lagt’s army, as the vast majority had been regular humans less than a year ago. Their scope of power still caught them by surprise at times, leading to an extremely lacking need to progress. While I wanted my population as strong as possible, I wanted them to gain that strength themselves. If I advanced them to the next class I’d learn nothing. I’d gain no additional perspective, nor witness the fleeting thoughts that passed through the minds of humans struggling to find any path to power they could manage.

 

Lagt’s reaction, in particular, interested me. She was trying to erase the circuitry in her body. Her goal was to create a means for goblins to advance into class five, despite having barely advanced to class four due to her disgust with her body, its circuitry, and the limitations it put on her. I stopped her misguided attempt to erase everything and start over, but I did help her think of other ways to improve her system. She may have hated her physique, but she knew it better than most. She was also extremely competent when it came to designing circuits.

 

Her research caused her to become yet another recluse, leaving the army to do whatever it wanted while her tent meandered north on a plate of silver with six bone legs keeping it mobile, as useless to the army as Samantha’s identical tent. While research into weaponizing the metal for goliaths had failed, that didn’t mean it hadn’t provided other uses. Lagt’s force had a way of finding a use for everything.

 

Aughil was used to command, though he found out quickly that the force didn’t need a commander to keep with the only objective that directly came from me. Experiencing the self-sufficiency of the force and how everything seemed to fit together so well, in addition to his awe at my ability to break the shackles of time’s deterioration of the colossi race, allowed him to become my second cardinal, pulling Anhata with him as the third. This time I waited to advance his will-core until I was sure that he’d gained the same awareness of will that Angie had, but that was merely a day of experimentation.

 

Before long, the force had left the forest, looking into yet another endless plain. A plain that was different from the rest. It had been a slow change, but it was becoming clear that the horizon was darkening, the black sky falling further into the white horizon with every step. The deep shadows of the forest stretched for dozens of leagues. Torches weren’t required during the day, yet, but seeing was becoming more difficult. The temperature was also falling. We were approaching what the spawn called the Edge of Day. A very unnerving plain, so far as the cannibals were concerned.

 

As the weakest of the army was class three, the lowering temperature didn’t affect anyone in a tangible way, but there seemed to be more subtle effects. Deeper fears that sprung forward more easily, an air of tension that didn’t seem to dissipate, and their use of energy seemed to become even less even. As if they were fighting a battle against lethargy by having periods of relaxation and intense activity in turns instead of a generalized hubbub. Like the effects on the army approaching the ocean, but less pronounced in some ways and more pronounced in others. An animal reaction of tension. A recognition of an environment that was more hostile. Perhaps it would fade as they acclimated into the darkened areas of the land. If the goliaths’ opposite reaction was anything to go by, that was very possible. They weren’t entering hostile territory, they were going home.

 

There was so much tension in the force that hearing the sounds of battle seemed a relief to many in the army. Fighting was something they understood. At least, they thought they did. They’d had many mock battles, but few risked real damage, let alone participated in the deadly tournaments that were commonplace in Trgl’s or Angie’s forces.

 

There wasn’t much discipline to their system, but it was a system. Aughil went out to investigate, each goliath spreading out as everything else followed. A line of goliaths with their own columns of followers. Those that hadn’t advanced their fighting abilities held back, but everyone else had groups they’d participated in mock combat with and established a pecking order. They’d solved their issue from Samantha’s command, and as their circuits became active there was no clashing of forces.

 

The battle, it turned out, was a legion of goliaths besieging metal walls. Metal walls that surrounded a city unlike any I’d come across so far. Instead of a tower at the center, a pyramid rose in the center of this city. The pyramid had multiple levels where buildings created a livable area, but there didn’t seem to be much flow between levels. Around the base of the pyramid was a sprawling mess, barely worthy of being called a city. More a collection of tents than anything else. That region sprawled all the way to the walls, but “walls” was being generous. From what I could tell, the defenders had merely melted the metal into a puddle around the city, waited for it to harden, and then repeated the process with another mixed batch of metal. The result was an extremely steep incline that negated the height difference while providing a slick, if uneven, surface that caused much falling. There was nothing built on the mound, no defenses. Nothing between the goliaths and the defenders as they slaughtered each other. Cannibal walls were built to keep the attackers and defenders separated, but evening out the height seemed to be the only purpose of this defensive structure.

 

Aughil wanted to immediately assault the walls, but I held him in check. Along with all the other goliaths. They kept their cool, but I could feel the seething hatred inside them. Goliaths hated nothing as much as they hated chokers. The feeling was mutual, as the reaction from the defenders to seeing the massive iron goliaths wasn’t fear but joy. Joy at being given the chance to try and tear down the only goliaths to advance that far. To spread iron flesh onto their wall.

 

The commanders of both armies were more rational than the soldiers, however. The choker commander noticed the obvious power differential and immediately sent runners into the city, while the goliath commander saw the massive goliaths remaining in place and commanded a retreat. Watching the spikes of paranoia cross his will as he left the retreat to an aide and approached Aughil with ten other goliaths at his heels was quite interesting. Did he think they held back because they’d sided with the chokers? Considering the horror a goliath would have at the idea that the only goliaths to advance in class were choker allies…I almost wanted to play it off as the case. Aughil would absolutely hate every word, though, and he’d probably break the illusion with his honesty. I gave up on that bit of entertainment and rushed my food goblin avatar to land in front of Aughil. I didn’t let the air touch it, but its landing was aggressive enough to ripple the earth. Interestingly, the ripple was less pronounced than I’d thought it would be.

 

After my landing the whole army acted as one, as if by orders and with a lot of practice. They dropped to one knee, in a posture I hadn’t seen the vast majority of them use before. I’d also never seen them practice or share that particular posture since joining my worshippers. It wasn’t even a show of formality in all of their cultures, only the goliaths bowed with that particular posture. Both cultures knelt, but the exact posture of every member of the force was the goliath way. Strange.

 

The crispness of the reaction, as well as the utterly unified way they performed it, spoke of a level of discipline that was beyond any of my forces. Maybe Angie’s could have, if they wasted time learning to bow in unison. The reaction it garnered from the goliath commander was instant, though. His jaw dropped and he stumbled. As did the ten that followed him. Two hadn’t even noticed the army and were only in awe because fifth class goliaths bowed at my entrance. “I won’t mince words, I don’t really see the point. Worship me and you can all become colossi.” Since the goliaths didn’t know if colossi were supposed to be the fifth class or something beyond, I figured I’d just decide that colossi were fifth class and above. It wasn’t inaccurate either way. I intended to see them all to as advanced a class as I could manage. If it was possible for them to become colossi, they would.

 

All eleven dropped to their knees and I felt something coming from them. It was…odd. They were generating faith without being my worshippers. In quantities I could notice without needing to actively look. Even odder, they’d managed to somehow increase the amount of faith being produced by the army as well. The kneeling members of my force had never produced so much faith, multiplicatively more than was normal. If they were feeling an extreme amount of awe, I’d have expected more to advance into the inner circle…but they weren’t. 

 

Regardless, this odd reaction wasn’t what I wanted. “I should have been more clear.” My avatar gestured to Aughil, who immediately started building a worship rune. “Everyone from your army must spill blood on the rune. If you have a partner, you’ll need to do so simultaneously. And separately from everyone else.” I gestured toward Anhata, who reacted with surprise but followed Aughil’s example with an alacrity that strangely kept the illusion of everything that happened being a very rehearsed ordeal. That both of them succeeded on the first try at creating the rune was a surprise in and of itself.

 

The commander and one of his subordinates immediately headed toward Anhata while three others approached Aughil and the rest rushed back to the army as if their lives depended on their speed. Among the three approaching Aughil was one female that seemed slightly different than I expected. The first difference was that she wore no metal at all, wearing only enough hairy leather to keep her modesty intact. Clearly not armor. Her flesh also…reacted strangely. It seemed to fall behind the rest of her body, just a bit, and then ripple when whatever movement she’d made reached its conclusion. As if her flesh was liquid. Could flesh be liquid? Apparently, it very much could. As she tore into the flesh with her fingers to produce blood, fingers with flesh that slid past instead of resisting the pressure forcing her bones to dig into muscle to draw blood, some of the silvery liquid flowed with her blood onto the rune. The anomaly was too sweet a treat to wait for. I had Aughil activate the rune as soon as all three had their blood absorbed. The soldiers would have to wait for a few minutes for Aughil to finish another rune, more if he was as competent as normal with rune-craft as opposed to the strange state that had allowed for the speedy creation of the first.

 

My avatar approached her as I spoke in the minds of the other two to keep out of the way of the army while absently fixing their circuitry. I delved into her will-core to understand why she was different. The liquid flesh was apparently a very rare but known condition that occasionally popped up in goliath tribes. Thought to be the tainted and poisoned offspring of a cousin to the colossi, the titans. True titans may not have been as strong or tough as colossi, but they were equally deadly. They were the magic version of colossi, doing everything from throwing fireballs that enveloped cities to unknown stories of lightning, something none of the goliaths knew what it was even supposed to be. Only that it was very dangerous. These poisoned children, though, oftentimes died before anyone even knew what they were. It took a very attentive uncle to notice her symptoms and the work of dozens of ursa and goliath wizards to give her enough mana to advance to the next class before she poisoned herself to death.

 

As the only living poison goliath she knew, she became a devastating force on the battlefield. Instead of brawling with the enemy or using weapons, she developed an abrupt sort of movement technique to flick her limbs so the ripple of her flesh catching up spit some of the liquid metal on enemies. It had taken a long time for her to be safe for allies, though, as the violent actions of combat could often lead to her spraying her allies. Goliaths were fine as long as it didn’t get in their mouths or eyes, but she’d killed many ursa friends. My offering to make her a colossus was an offer to make her a titan if she wasn’t a corrupted version that would be destroyed or get worse with flesh that actively corroded things. Titans weren’t poisonous. Perhaps if I could advance her, she wouldn’t need to worry about her friends anymore.

 

I was equally curious, so I fixed her circuitry. She immediately started a ritual of her own. Instead of digging her fingers into the earth like the rest of the goliaths she stomped once with each foot, digging her toes into the ground. Her hands were raised above her head, fingers spread as far as they could be from each other. Her liquid flesh left her exposed almost immediately, but unlike goliath flesh it was immediately claimed by the earth. Her growth phase was no less violent, however. If anything, it was more violent. The goliaths advancing in class had no real reaction from the sky. Thya’s advancement caused the sky to boil in a way I hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t rejection…it almost seemed happy. Excited. The pool of metal at her feet was fairly normal, apart from the dark nature of it. Watching her advance finish, I was very glad she was advancing to the apex of her level. As a first example, she was a valuable subject.

 

The moment the dark metal finished covering her head, though, the sky built a new form of rejection. A bolt of something struck her upraised face so fast that by the time I’d finished being surprised, it was over. Thya shivered before screaming joyously at the sky, her euphoria so strong it started a tide of laughter throughout the new goliaths. The single members of the army were long finished with becoming worshippers, and Aughil was now helping Anhata with the partnered ones. Each of them were advancing in class as they were admitting new worshippers with amazing efficiency and each rune being filled allowed me to fix the circuitry of the next set of goliaths as soon as they were far enough away from neighbors that they wouldn’t get in each others’ way. Whatever allowed them to finish the rune on the first try was consistent.

 

Thya’s stomping drew my attention back to her. I wasn’t going to miss that new rejection this time. I paid more attention to the sky as it changed, instead of Thya’s cracking dark metal flesh or the puddle of white metal at her feet. The impression of excitement was stronger. Growing in the air like a form of intent…but less connected to will. Even the mana in the air felt like it should be normal. Like the air itself was exited, not necessarily whatever the diffused will was that kept the sky in one piece. Even with me knowing what was coming, expecting it, the bolt that rushed out of the sky hit Thya’s head without me gaining any information. It was a larger bolt than the first, but that’s all I knew.

 

Consumed by an enthralling mystery, I wanted to push Thya into the next class immediately. Unfortunately, goliaths required an extreme level of pain tolerance to make the most of their advancement. The short time between advancements was necessary to allow those like Thya that kept to the top of their racial ability to maintain themselves. Forcing her would have reduced her ability to endure the next change. I still filled her with more mana than she would have naturally. I wasn’t going to wait for two months, as I had for Aughil. 

 

I had to wait for almost an entire day for her will-core to stabilize to the point I thought she’d be able to maintain her composure for the entire length of the process to become fifth class. Aughil had had to maintain the exposed state for almost two days. I hadn’t really thought of it before, but my avatars were probably the reason they could advance so quickly, and so successfully. Maybe if they didn’t have a certain level of composure they’d stop at too small a size to advance to the next class. I hadn’t seen it happen yet, but it was possible. I had noticed that those that stopped early on an earlier advancement would always be that much smaller than those that went on ahead. Ouanra had maintained her status as the smallest goliath, even though she was extremely irritated with herself that she’d fallen so far behind on the initial advancement and had been perfectly composed when she was forced to finish her last advancement despite her determination being unbroken.

 

Thya had no such issue. Her stomps shook the earth as she raised her hands. This time, I was determined to understand the reaction. I drew the entirety of my will from every force, excepting the will I needed to maintain all of my cores, nexuses, and avatars in their most basic forms. I hadn’t gathered my will so singularly in a long time. The force of so much concentrated will being in one place at one time had some interesting effects, but I couldn’t think about them or even notice them. I had a purpose for doing this, at the moment. The barest reaction from the consistent will to a circuit in Thya’s head was the cause, but it was a reaction to the circuit and not the effect of the circuit. I didn’t even know what the circuit was supposed to do. It was of the air branch, that much I could tell from the shape and the sky’s reaction, but that was it. The more my attention focused on the reaction the more I realized I was still lacking.

 

Everything I could see was merely the reaction, not the cause. The air wasn’t excited, the essence of excitement that lived in air normally was gathering, and that made the sky boil. Whatever it was, it was too fast and/or small for me to see. I could reverse engineer it from the effects, though. The lanes it formed, the web that stretched leagues in every direction of absolutely miniscule bits all gathering into the air above Thya, manifesting as a mere boiling of air, despite the effect required to cause it being absolutely massive.

 

By the time the bolt as thick as a cannibal’s wrist struck the top of Thya’s golden head, I had very few answers and far more questions than when she’d started. I had never considered that the invisible effects I couldn’t understand could be too small for me to see instead of being too complex or being deliberately hidden from me. How could something be so small as to be invisible? My circuits were already beyond miniscule, in comparison to human ones.

 

I relaxed my attention back into all of my other forces. Two days could change a lot, and I’d missed many details that could be very important in the time I’d spent focused. Maybe I’d only missed counting even more redundancies, but each redundancy had a nugget of something new. Some new hint at a future discovery that could be the key to everything. Or just a tiny piece that allowed something else to work that tiny bit better, but nuggets of value were value all the same.

 

One thing I’d definitely missed was the construction of Thya’s flesh. I hadn’t explored the liquid, dark, or white metal. An oversight that had me hoping the next group of goliaths I found was populated by a large number of children near death of a sickness they didn’t know they had, a strange thing to hope.

 

Another oversight had been the ursas. I had records of cannibals going to war with ursas, but these creatures seemed different. Larger, for one. The ursas in the cannibal records were six pedes tall, on average, and hairy for humans but still mistakable as a cannibal at a distance, despite their massive hands and long feet. These ursas were class two, apparently a discovery after they’d assimilated with the goliath clans and left into the darkness. They were built heavier than goblins and had more hair packed into less space than boars with faces that looked more like a wider version of bears. They didn’t venerate their ancestors as much, so the ursa reaction to being advanced in class even more was merely to become zealots instead of the immediate priesthood that seemed to be the common reaction of all goliaths. A very rare few goliaths only advanced into zealots. The few that had disdain for their ancestors in particular, though their veneration of ancestors in general still allowed them to surpass the cannibal norm by a large margin. A strange comparison to everything else that required an extreme event to become a zealot, the skeptical goliath was more zealous than the zealous cannibal.

 

The third class ursas were very valuable for Lagt, though. They provided the map for a similar creature to ogres that didn’t peak at class four. They focused more on hardening their hair and claws while barely thickening the flesh at all, but they were still very valuable as inspiration. She pleaded for me to advance an ursa further so she could get a better example and I complied. Like goblins, ursas didn’t change much. Even when I advanced the ursa chieftain to class seven, she was merely twenty pedes tall. She hadn’t grown at all since class four, but the circuitry in her hair and claws was beyond comparable to Katrice in terms of durability and lethality. Kruga may be required to burrow into Katrice’s flesh to kill her, but that level of focused power would make her nearly invulnerable to anything Katrice could bring to bear. She could sprint through all of Katrice’s fireballs without getting singed, and while a full hit from any of Katrice’s limbs would do significant damage if she couldn’t dig her way into the weaponized limb fast enough, Kruga had what the quail didn’t; true maneuverability. Even class five quail were faster, but Kruga could dodge and weave. Her legs had a large portion of their circuitry devoted to passively forcing the earth to spread any force she applied to the surface as far and wide as possible. Her paws could also grip into the earth, which didn’t break due to her circuitry, and pull on it to shift her direction. A much more advanced method of keeping the earth intact despite the forces at play with class seven creatures than we’d developed for quail.

 

After a demonstration where she exerted the extent of her abilities and shifted a league of earth in every direction two pedes in order to go from a full sprint to dead stop in an instant and back to a full sprint in the opposite direction the next, I was convinced that this was a fundamentally better way. The only improvements I could think of were to create a connection between the user and the ground itself that would allow them to adhere to the earth without needing claws to dig in and/or a claw in the back to give an increased level of control to the grip, but the core idea was amazingly effective.

 

With an extremely solid example for both bigger and better, Lagt had everything she needed to advance her design. I had some concerns with what would happen to a creature with a growth pattern dependent on something I couldn’t see trying to advance in ways that may be different from that pattern, but there was nothing I could do about that. I couldn’t see the pattern, so I couldn’t give her any advice on what it would have been had the goblins not been designed to max out at class four.