Netherwitch - 90 (Patreon)

<< Chapter 89 | Table of Contents

-oOo-
Chapter 90
-oOo-

“Cloud Princess Swallows,” the Seventh Prince of Autumn greeted with a small bow. He gestured toward the table. “Please don’t force yourself to stand on my behalf. Take a seat.”

“Thank you, Prince Bhatia,” Sylvia greeted.

She didn’t curtsy. Instead, she pressed her hands together in front of her chest before offering a bow. Not too far. Not too little. The amber eyes of the garuda prince brightened, seeing the formal deference of his homeland.

“You do me too much honor,” Avyaan laughed. Then his eyes darkened, his voice turning grim. “But you mustn’t force yourself. The seriousness of your injuries is beyond my expectations.”

Sylvia’s lips turned up in a teasing smile. “Not everything is as it seems, Your Highness.”

She gestured, an ornate chair floating back, carried by an arm of wind. With her pure starlight eyes, she swept the room. Oigidecht y Gaeaf was an upscale restaurant found in the port city Murias. The building’s architecture was Art Deco, with an emphasis on natural geometric shapes. Buildings like this could be found throughout all the kingdoms of Winter. Summer favored Art Nouveau. Well, to say they favored a particular style was generous. The Fey Federation was a wild mix of cultures, many of which looked Eastern according to Sylvia’s Earth-based sensibilities.

Befitting a restaurant that served the Federation’s upper class, the private room was laden with enchantments. The protections were enough that she felt no need to add her own. Instead, she enjoyed the rich furnishings, a crystal chandelier hanging overhead while the massive windows framed the city. The starry void stretched out across the horizon. Hundreds of ships were lined up to enter the port, a procession that wouldn’t wane until well after the War of the Seasons.

The garuda’s gaze sharpened, studying her carefully. Then he relaxed. “It appears my fears were exaggerated.”

Sylvia slid into her seat. “I hope my deception won’t cause your allies any trouble.”

“All politicians are tricksters,” Avyaan Bhatia returned. He took the chair opposite, his amber eyes jovial behind his hawk nose. “The Fey Federation just makes a better game of it than most. But I’m glad you informed me. Politics is an art, and knowing the truth will subtly change how we present the situation to our audience.”

Rather than Princess Commandant, she was wearing a fancy white dress with layers of ruffled skirts pooling around her ankles. The corset top was dark silver with gold embroidery, her hair arranged in a half-up with a jeweled hair clip. The clothes didn’t match her rank, but she wasn’t attending a gala.

What beauty she projected was marred by a hideous scar. A jagged, splintering bruise stretched up her neck and down her left shoulder. The real injury didn’t look half so severe. Sylvia had played it up at Gavin’s suggestion. The real thing was a palm-sized welt on her left chest wrapped in silk bandages.

Her deception served two goals. First, it amplified the blowback against Heaven. Second, it provided an excuse so she could retire from the war. Which was important. With a foothold in the southern mountains, the stalemate was over. The Erlking’s Expedition had brought its forces into direct contact with Wildfire Garden’s army.

Thus far, Summer had maintained a slow retreat. The sect had the advantage when it came to soldiers and phantasms. On the high end, however, Winter held clear superiority. The combined expeditions had nine Transcendents to Wildfire Garden’s four. What’s more, the sect was outnumbered at the fourth and third consolidations as well.

Thanks to Sylvia’s efforts, the sect was down six ships in total, including a pair of dreadnoughts. That left them with four Brenin, five Eryrs, and four Tarws. Ivar’s fleet, by contrast, was practically unscathed. He had lost a single cruiser, giving him three Brenin, three Gwalchs, and three Tarws. Azure Reach had suffered the worst proportionately. The McCloudface and the Jegos had fallen during the blitz, leaving them with two Skycruisers and the Fídi. The Unol was undergoing repairs and would soon resume service. When it did, their cruisers would number three.

Nominally, Winter and Summer were perfectly matched. Practically, Summer had an edge when it came to dreadnoughts while Winter had the advantage when it came to cruisers. An Eryr was no match for the heavier Gwalch while the Ouranó Fídi couldn’t be called a dreadnought, despite having the size for it.

Putting aside the war for a moment, Sylvia focused on politics.

“What do the courts have to say about my attempted assassination?” she asked.

“Winter has never missed a chance to sour our relationship with Heaven,” Prince Bhatia answered, leaning back in his chair. “Summer, however, has downplayed the seriousness of the issue, as usual, if only to prevent Winter’s ascendance. Privately, they aren’t pleased with Heaven’s interference.”

She nodded. “And the lesser courts?”

“It’s well-known among the upper crust that you are the Thirteenth Apostle of Fire. Heaven’s pursuit is expected,” Avyaan answered. “The Autumn Court hopes to share this fact, reminding the people that the Fifth Piece gave us the Law of Wood during the Unification War. Spring has been… oddly silent. Which may indicate a danger or an opportunity.”

Roughly as she expected.

“There’s no point in hiding my affiliation,” Sylvia said. “The more people who know, the better. I have to ask one thing, however. Can the Federation prevent another attempt on my life in Emain Ablach?”

“The courts will assign an archfaerie to keep an eye on Heaven. Summer has already agreed to it. Tianlong will pay a visit to the Foreign Fleet as well. No great angel from Heaven is allowed in Emain Ablach for the remainder of the war. That Heaven has parked an armada outside our lands is beyond disgusting.”

The slight shift in Prince Bhatia’s expression showed his own emotions. The Fey Federation was Heaven’s peer, no questions asked. To have Heaven flaunt its strength must’ve left many fey furious. Sending Tianlong, the Federation’s only eighth consolidation archfaerie, over to say hello was a straight-up threat.

“Since the Autumn Court plans to wave me around like a bloody flag, I assume they’re interested in the Bluelight,” Sylvia stated, changing the subject.

The Seventh Prince of Autumn held up a hand. “Before we proceed further, let’s call on the waitstaff. Oigidecht y Gaeaf is one of the best restaurants in this world. I ordered a little bit of everything. It’d be a travesty if we didn’t enjoy it.”

The garuda picked up the small crystal bell. B-dring. He gave it a little ring. Servants entered through the door. Sylvia waited patiently, making small talk as they unloaded a cart. A dozen dishes were laid out in front of them on silver platters. On the left was cháo lươn, the eel porridge looking absolutely delicious. Beside it was a colorful array of sashimi followed by bird’s nest and Peking duck. Next were venison and skrei, both exuding a scent that made her mouth water.

Sylvia filled her plate, keeping her motions small and delicate. A princess must mind her manners. While the servants cleared out, she nibbled on a few morsels. Avyaan was happy to take his time. The garuda prince regaled her with tales from his homeland.

“Tír na nÓg is a land where time seems to stand still,” Prince Bhatia shared. “There are deep forests and flower-filled meadows. Oh, and the lakes. You should see it when the pysgod awyr leap from the waters. Schools of thousands cross the sky in a blanket of shimmering scales.”

She offered a polite nod. A timeless world didn’t sound interesting to her. Though, Tír na nÓg at least had days and nights, unlike the Timeless Beryl Wilderness.

“You should visit sometime,” the garuda prince continued. “You and your lovely wife.”

“It’d be nice to see the netherworld,” Sylvia answered.

She wasn’t going on tour any time in the next few decades. Perhaps a century from now, when the System was so firmly established that Heaven and the other powers accepted it as a matter of course.

“I’d be happy to accompany you,” Avyaan said pleasantly. “Now, on to the Autumn Court. My allies are impressed. Breaking the impasse and claiming the southern ridge was no easy feat, especially for a small force like yours.”

“Given how Ivar framed our accomplishments, I’m surprised.”

“Lord Haugen’s character is well-known,” Avyaan dismissed. He leaned forward, his amber eyes piercing into hers. “But there are a few caveats. My friends hope your dungeons will come with dark-winged rocs.”

Ha! No wonder they were so friendly. The falcons had impressed them more than the soldiers. In retrospect, the outcome was obvious. The birds were new. Soldiers were not. It was easy to slip into a frame of thought that dismissed the familiar, forgetting the subtle subtext of time. Only the keen would grasp the truth.

“Hmm,” Sylvia hummed as she chewed on a cut of sali bot. The rich and tangy mutton played on her tongue. “We can offer dungeons with rocs. However – ” Her pastel pink eyes tightened. “I want the alchemical process used to create saethbysg soul stones.”

“Impossible,” Prince Bhatia rejected. “Saethbysgs are a state secret. But if the manufacturing details of an old weapon were to slip, it’d be a different matter. I’ve heard that your Tesla Stormbringers have stalled in development. What’s your opinion on the Vijaya mk 3?”

“I’d rather the mark four,” Sylvia said.

Avyaan gave her a guarded look. “Not right now. But if Winter favors you in the future…”

In other words, the Autumn Court didn’t dare leak such a valuable secret. Something to consider in the future then. With her fork, she lifted a flake of white meat. Her eyes brightened when she took a bite. Prince Bhatia had chosen well.

“You said Ivar’s character is well-known.” Her words held the hint of a question: so why did you dump him on us?

“Forgive him his rudeness. Ivar Haugen is a loyal man. He is only looking after his lord’s interests,” Avyaan answered. “Please treat your assistance with the Llwyd Tree as a personal favor to me.”

“If I was going to abandon it, I would’ve done so two months ago,” Sylvia returned. Switching to a new front now had no meaning. “However, Azure Reach has interests of its own. We entered this war hoping to obtain more blood and psychic fruits.”

The garuda considered. “One of my friends can help with your issue,” he said carefully. “But his personality is… complicated.”

Sylvia shook her head. “I wasn’t asking for help. I was just curious. How would the Autumn Court feel if the Llwyd Tree were to fall into our hands instead of the Erlking’s?”

Prince Bhatia’s gaze was intense. The War of the Seasons was a game with rules and regulations. No court wanted trees harmed during the battles. Therefore, all combat was forbidden within three kilometers of the branches and the trunk.

How then could a tree be captured?

The answer lay in the seven fortresses built around the tree’s base. Whoever’s flag flew over the majority of those fortresses when the sun set on the final day would be declared the victor. There were a few special conditions, of course. First, the flag had to fly for a full two hours before the war’s end. That rule had been added a millennium ago when last-second strategies and betrayals had grown too boring. If the condition wasn’t met, ownership of the fortress reverted to the party who’d held it for the plurality of the last seven sunsets.

Sylvia’s situation was more complicated. The Erlking’s Expedition had never entered a full alliance with Azure Reach. Thus, they were three independent entities fighting over the same tree. If the Azure Expedition had one fortress while Ivar and Furuta split the others evenly between them, no party would have a majority.

In such an event, ownership would be settled by way of a tie-breaking duel. All the challengers would fight at dawn, putting forward one champion per fortress under their control. The last team standing would be the winner. Obviously, each side would send their Transcendents. There was a catch, however. Only those living when the final sun set could participate in the duel.

Therein lay their opportunity. Azure Reach had Lenape. If they were lucky enough to claim two forts, Sylvia could join the fight as well. She wasn’t so arrogant as to think they could take all comers, of course. Ashikaga Choji was Lenape’s bane. The kitsune’s law magic could strip half the turtle’s defense. But what if the strongest fighters of Winter and Summer died at the last moment?

If such a thing were to happen, Lenape could clean the field all by himself. Though, she’d have to be careful. If he died on the last day, their scheme would fall apart.

“There would be a degree of political blowback,” Avyaan said slowly. “But not so severe that a bit of generosity couldn’t soothe the bruised egos. The Autumn Court wants forty percent of the fruit rather than the usual twenty-five.”

“The Erlking won’t cause trouble?” Sylvia questioned.

“He will honor the rules as they are written,” Prince Bhatia said firmly. The garuda prince considered for a moment. “The Dagda Expedition was supposed to be Ivar’s ally for this war. Their fight for the Draenllwyn Tree has gone well. I will put in a word to have them hold the door during the final hours. This is my favor to you in exchange for the help you offered the Erlking.”

Sylvia felt it was rather strange for her favor to undermine the previous favor, but such was the nature of politics.

“The Dagda Expedition won’t side with Ivar at the last moment, will they?” she asked.

“The agreement will be defined by an Oath,” Avyaan replied. He gave her a look. “This bit of help is as much for you as it is for the Erlking. The Dagda Expedition will hold the door for him too.”

“Azure Reach thanks you for your efforts regardless,” she said, bowing her head.

The garuda took a sip of his wine. “Be careful. Ivar is no fool. He will have his suspicions. If your ploy is to succeed, make theater of your lost interest due to his refusal to share the tree’s fruits.”

Sylvia chuckled. “When it comes to schemes, I have a dirty-minded coach.” 

-oOo-

“… then they sent in the hydras. One hundred behemoths rushed into the valley backed by three thousand fey soldiers…”

Belkis made excited motions as she shared her story. Tea thrashed in her cup. If not for her ki, the liquid would’ve flown from the vessel, spilling over her robes and the tablecloth.

“Wildfire Garden hit them from above. Hundreds of saethbysgs fell in waves, but Ivar saw it coming. We had gamers in the sky and the Erlking’s dreadnoughts in the region. Only two score missiles made it through our defense, with most of the fire absorbed by the water barrier raised over our army. The enemy closed ranks. They had two lines of corpse warriors up front and a sea of shamblers behind. Wraiths and skeleton archers filled the hills on either side, spells and arrows falling like rain.”

Sylvia offered an absent nod while sipping her own tea from a charming little cup. The set belonged to Emmy. Her darling wife had insisted they bring it with them to Emain Ablach. A wise decision, because this pitiful princess faced the most terrible monster in any universe, ethereal or material.

Paperwork.

She was drowning in an endless sea of paperwork. A brigade was a fountain of bureaucracy, and that nightmare had been placed on her fragile shoulders. What cruelty. Was this how the government rewarded a hero who’d faced a squadron of assassins?

Sylvia had sacrificed her body and her soul for her nation. And what did she get for it? An opportunity to itemize the parts needed to repair their ships! Not only that, she was tasked with managing their supply of arrows, ballista bolts, and elemental dusts. Then, since she still had free time, Governor Sanchez had dumped the accumulated findings of Azure Intelligence onto her lap.

That butter tart!

Even with her high wit and her dungeon administrator trait, Sylvia could barely keep up. And, if she went any faster, she was sure the worthless slackers on the front line would find more work for her to do. Tch. What gave them the right? It was clear from how Belkis spoke that war was play, not work.

“Boosted by Choji’s interlocking layers of law, the line held even after the first behemoths crashed into it. That’s when twenty thousand barghests came rushing in! They swept over the hills in a wave, aiming for Wildfire Garden’s left flank,” Belkis continued with joyful abandon, gesturing in an attempt to show the strategy. “A reserve of shamblers rushed to meet them, but it was already too late. Skeleton archers crumbled. With the flank in disarray, the hydras pushed through, crushing the hel knights and the corpse warriors.”

It was Wednesday of the second week of Men-Ferrum. The Azure Expedition had been in Emain Ablach for nearly a year now. The end of the war was three months away. Belkis was sharing the Battle of Cwm Cannaid, where the Erlking’s Expedition had claimed a fortress beside the Llwyd Tree.

The girls were in the command cabin of the Ouranó Fídi, one hundred kilometers from the front line. The Fídi was a pirate ship at best and a giant smuggling vessel in truth. It wasn’t suitable for serious battle, so Sylvia had it parked over their northern mountain base. The rest of the ships were fighting in the southern mountain ridge, playing a deadly game of hide-and-seek with Wildfire Garden’s forces.

As the last months loomed, the war had entered its hottest phase. The Erlking’s Expedition and Wildfire Garden were going fist to fist. Prince Bhatia had come through. The Dagda Expedition would act as a bouncer during the final week of the war. Which meant there was no reason for Ivar to hold back. The troll was intent on victory even if he had to trash his entire army to achieve it.

Exactly as Sylvia hoped.

“We thought we had it in the bag. That’s when the magma mortars hit,” Belkis continued. Bam! She slapped the table, mimicking the sound before gulping down her tea. “The sect had snuck its cruisers in close. They opened fire all at once. The weaker flame mortars blasted the barghests to pieces while their heavy guns hit the hydras and the fey soldiers behind. The undead firmed their lines. For a second it looked like – ”

“You weren’t even there,” Sylvia observed blandly.

Her sister sputtered. With a deadpan expression, Sylvia gestured. The teapot floated up, refilling Belkis’s cup. A pity they had no sweets. A princess deserved the finer things in life. Like servants. When she returned to Azure Reach, she was making a robot maid. One with enough firepower to level a city block. Obviously, Cyberdyne wasn’t going to do it for her.

After all those e-mails she’d sent. Tsk. Tsk.

She had it all planned out. She’d make the core and the weapons. Emmy would design the outer shell and the dress. Her wife had the better eye when it came to fashion. Just as importantly, if Emmy designed their maid, she’d have no grounds to complain when eye candy was the result.

Belkis slumped. She turned toward the silver-haired girl, her molten eyes full of hope. “You have to let me onto the front lines, Sylvie.”

“No.”

“I’m dying here, Sylvie,” the prisma whined. “Nothing ever happens at base. I’m going crazy. Everyone else gets to fight while I do nothing!”

“If you’re bored, I can find plenty of work for you to do,” Sylvia said plainly. “The ant queens could use bigger nests and our wards would fare better with improved ether channels. Then there is all the infrastructure we laid in a hurry. You know how poorly aged materials work. They desperately need maintenance. If that’s not enough, we have potions to brew, talismans to make, and plenty of cargo to sort.”

With every task she mentioned, the dark-skinned girl shrank further. Sylvia felt a touch of pity. How shameful. Since when was she so soft? Nevertheless, she offered Belkis a bit of hope.

“With Emmy and the majority of our mages on the front, we need skilled enchanters to keep the bomb obscured.”

Belkis perked up. “Leave it to me, Sylvie!”

Also, they had to keep a small force on their back lines. Otherwise they might lose their infrastructure. A fate Wildfire Garden had suffered in the last few months. As Ivar advanced through the mountains, the sect had been forced to abandon beacons, spawning nests, bone pits, and resurrection pools. Every loss left them a little weaker.

But Katsumoto wasn’t without his victories. The hertogi’s march had come at a price. Five thousand fey soldiers were dead, choking the troll’s resurrection pools. Three thousand more had been captured. Furuta didn’t have it easy either, having suffered nearly equal losses. On this measure, Azure Reach was the clear winner. They’d lost twelve souls to the enemy, with fifty gamers in the queue.

Tobi’s commando tactics had played a large role in that outcome. So too had their teleportation talismans. High-quality soldiers were worth their weight in gold…

… wait a minute. That’d make them worth 550 million soli! There was no way she would cough up that much money. At best, the gamers were worth their weight in silver. Regardless, Ivar hadn’t found a reason to complain.

The phantasmal armies were likewise worn. Despite having an influx of 15,000 beasts per month, the Erlking’s horde of 200,000 had been ground down to a quarter. Wildfire Garden was doing better, their 300,000 reduced to 100,000. Most of their bone pits and spawning nests were gone, however, making that number worse than it seemed.

The Azure Expedition suffered more on paper. Ivar Haugen constantly sought excuses to throw Sylvia’s phantasms into the fray. She’d hemmed and hawed, dragged her feet, then let it happen. They’d lost 15,000 ants in the last two months, leaving them with 3,000 in the nests. Except that figure was an outright lie. Sylvia had falsified the actual rate of production, leaving them with 17,000 hive ant warriors in reserve.

She wondered if the Autumn Court could be convinced to buy a few queens. There weren’t a lot of species with such collective discipline. Better yet, the queens were spawned from guardian dungeons, giving them a System imprint. The beasts could be guided with minimal training.

The ants were a bit weak, though. Maybe she should tweak their nether code first?

Something to worry about later. Setting down her cup, Sylvia stretched. A grimace crossed her face. Belkis’s miserable expression was replaced by worry.

“Is it bothering you again, Sylvie?” the prisma asked, her voice soft.

“It’s nothing,” she waved off.

The pain resonated in Sylvia’s bones, spreading from her chest to her left hip. It was as though a single nerve had been plucked, vibrating like a string on a violin. But the ache was less than the hurt inflicted upon her heart. When blood wept from her injury, bits of soul essence bubbled out alongside. Precious experience points were cast into the wind.

Name: Sylvia Swallows Class: ♥☆Galaxy Princess☆♥
Lv: 1617+252 Exp: 1,971 / 16,180
Hp: 4,147 / 4,147 Mp: 7,118 / 11,806
Str: 114 Mag: 473
Vit: 109 Spr: 467
Agl: 228 Wit: 478

Her status sheet held proof of Heaven’s abominable evil. Sylvia had lost ninety levels, leaving her at almost the exact same point she’d been at a year and a half ago. Worse, her stats were a random mess without a single five or zero to be found. Sylvia gnashed her teeth. Not since she’d fought King Allant as Eric had she faced such horror. No. This was worse! In the netherworld the grind was measured in months instead of hours.

And the cruelest point of all? She couldn’t cultivate. The battlefield was a buffet, the fields of slaughter awash with blood essence. The third and fourth consolidation gamers were growing fat on the feast while she watched helplessly. Normally, the System was limited in the range of its collection. Players could pull experience points from ten to seventy meters, depending on their consolidation and the circumstance. However, with an army of helpers, the System could pass blood essence up and down the line in a giant relay. Specialized tools expanded its reach further.

The agony of watching others level, who else but her was forced to bear it? Well, except those gamers stuck at level 690. Oh, and the many who didn’t have carnivorous consumption. Also Belkis. Belkis wasn’t getting free experience points. But, if Sylvia disregarded the eighty percent of the Azure Expedition who were deprived just like her, she was alone in her suffering.

“It must be miserable,” Belkis consoled.

“It is,” Sylvia said helplessly.

Her suffering probably wasn’t what Belkis imagined. She wanted to bare her heart to her sister, but she couldn’t. If she did, her sister would definitely set her on fire. Tch. Sylvia needed medicine for her wounded soul. Like a soul fruit. Or – she licked her lips – a dream fruit.

“I hope – ”

Her words cut off when she felt a sudden omen of danger. Sylvia’s eyes flashed in the direction of the threat. The hull of the Ouranó Fídi blocked her gaze, but foresight and augmented reality revealed the approaching danger. A searing beam was ripping across the horizon. She felt its mirage pierce the side of the ship.

“■■, ■!”

A storm of metal element ether poured from her calamity palace, filling the room with smoldering heat. One hundred and thirty-five runes were spun in an instant. The spell melted into the Fídi, forming a foundation just in time to receive another sequence. A plate of metal was conjured on the body of the vessel.

Boom!

Half a second later, a muffled explosion rocked the hull, sounding like a drum. Sylvia felt the ship shudder. A stream of plasma cut through her fortress of iron, leaving a molten scar in its wake. A blue screen popped open, the frame flashing red. A blaring alert rang in every gamer’s head.

With her dungeon administrator trait, Sylvia filtered a flood of information in less than a second. A screen opened, revealing the world seen through a patrolling player’s eyes. A second skyrending beam was cutting across the horizon.

“■,” she chanted lazily before issuing an order over the Command & Control Network. “All soldiers to battle stations.”

A second metal plate unfolded. Boooooom. The Ouranó Fídi rumbled, the streak slashing across the ship’s port. Her fortress of iron absorbed two-thirds of the strike. The rest left a two-meter-wide swath of scorched wood. She wasn’t too worried. A shallow wound was easily healed with time and essence.

Belkis hopped up out of her seat, rushing out the door. Adrenaline junkies.

“Shall I…” Lenape questioned, his voice coming in over the network.

“Not unless absolutely necessary,” Sylvia replied.

Her left hand flickered, a chain of seals draping the Ouranó Fídi’s hull in a triplet of metal plates. The sudden weight made the ship list a few degrees toward port. Then it righted, Gerwen spitting curses as he took the wheel.

Relaxing into her seat, she sipped her tea. The omen of danger had already faded. That didn’t mean they were free and clear. Ashikaga Choji had an anti-divination accessory. Before his plan became action, his intent couldn’t be discovered. However, the moment a skyrending beam left his hands, she would know his target clearly.

Albeit, with only one to two seconds to respond. For a great faerie of her level, that was practically forever. Particularly when the mirrored lake sutra was added to the equation.

“Show me where you are hiding, little fox,” Sylvia said playfully.

Her words were a string of runes. Glass marbles vanished from her hand, appearing in the surrounding land. Her only hope was to catch the fox while he was casting before crushing him with a counter. And for that, she had the help of her HM-DALL cybernetic organ.

Equipment: HM-DALL
Type: Mystic Organ
Weight: 11.6 droms
Value: 518,000 soli

Effects:
* Art Enhancement: Foresight
* Strategic Omen
* Trajectory Analysis

A complex brain implant which acts as a seed for the transformation realm art foresight. This cyberware is oriented toward fate, increasing the clarity of perception even in the face of anti-divination tools and accessories. When used by a gamer, the HM-DALL can link with the System client and the network interface, allowing the efficient sharing of information.

Art Enhancement: Foresight
* -35% ki burden
* 300 potency, anti-divination

The HM-DALL moderately reduces the spiritual burden imposed on the user’s body in exchange for increased consumption of inventory space. In addition, it will reduce the effectiveness of low-quality anti-divination accessories, allowing actions to be read precious milliseconds ahead of time.

Strategic Omen

While the HM-DALL is installed, the user will sense omens of threat not only to themselves, but also to any persons or things they care about which happen to be in the vicinity. Like the generalized omens of danger provided by the foresight art, these omens can only be felt three to five seconds before the event in question.

Trajectory Analysis

The cybernetic organ will link with the System client to perform trajectory analysis of dangerous projectiles. The user will see as well as feel the cone of prediction for all threats in the area. This information can be shared with others by way of the network interface.

The Fídi shuddered again, another searing beam of plasma smashing into the ship’s hull. Sylvia’s gaze flicked, tracking the beam to the point of origin.  

“Got you, fox.”

A glass marble blinked into existence one hundred meters from the shot. Choji wasn’t there. She wasn’t surprised. The ieros had been experimenting with a crude knockoff of her rune gate spell. But the fox was no magister. Nor did he have Runeworks Studio. His rune sequence was shoddy and full of flaws.

One such flaw was a dangling thread of realm left after each cast. Most fey would be unable to see it. Sylvia’s pure starlight eyes made it crystal clear. Her prying eye turned, tracing the string to a golden-haired kitsune. Ashikaga Choji met her gaze, half-moon spectacles sitting on his nose.

A spell formed on Sylvia’s lips, a storm of calamity growing around her. “■■ ■■■ ■■■…”

Choji finished first, tearing open a blue-green swirl. The ieros stepped through his gate. Tch. She halted her chant.

“I should’ve gone with something quicker,” Sylvia groused.

But she’d really wanted to try her new clara cometa. That wily fox, running so fast. Just because she’d blasted him the last time…

On the upper deck of the Fídi, gamers were in motion. Belkis and the other mages had wrapped the ship in layers of conjured steel. Beneath the illusion array, small squads gathered in anticipation of an attack. The biggest thing the Azure Expedition lacked was manpower. In moments like these, the gap showed.

She watched, pleased to see the gamers slide into place without hesitation. It’d taken a few drills to put them in order after the ambush of the first day. Her Five Eyes panned. The gray fog covering the Erlking’s base flickered with light, magic hidden beneath the mist. Ay, ay, ay. As expected, Wildfire Garden was at it again.

“Lieutenant Sanders, please assemble a team to assist the hertogi upon request,” Sylvia ordered.

If the Erlking’s Expedition didn’t ask, she’d do jack sherbet. Mmm. Jack sherbet. That sounded tasty. What kind of ‘jack’ fruit would make a nice sherbet?

Pandora: (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ Jackfruit, Jack-in-the-Pulpit
CutestSilverBird: (¬_¬")
CutestSilverBird: Jack-in-the-Pulpit is poisonous
CutestSilverBird: … But maybe it’s good?
CutestSilverBird: ദ്ദി(¬_¬)
Pandora: ٩(ᵔ◡ᵔ)و ♡

Sylvia chuckled. Hopefully, her silly little sister wasn’t giving similar advice to the people on Earth. As for the gamers? Who cared. For them, poison might add to the flavor.

With another set of hand seals, she placed two prying eyes over the Erlking’s base. Then she picked up her teacup, the pot floating into the air to give her a refill.

This wasn’t Wildfire Garden’s first raid. With Ivar smashing through their bases on the southern ridge, Sect Leader Furuta had grown frustrated. So the tengu had decided to hit back. His first attempts met with minimal success. However, as the Erlking’s front line grew thin, the troll had pulled soldiers from his base. Which left it highly vulnerable to a Class IX Transcendent.

The anti-divination fog only made things worse. If it weren’t for the fact that Katsumoto was fighting on his own, with Choji and Zhu Hua providing occasional support, the troll’s base would’ve already been ground to dust.

Bang!

The door to the command room burst open. Kenzo Watanabe stormed in, his expression a blaze of fury. “Colonel Swallows, I demand you provide support immediately!”

Clink. Sylvia’s cup returned to its saucer. She rose, pulling herself to her full 155 centimeters of height.

“‘I demand?’” she questioned sharply. “You forget your – ”

The silver-haired witch suddenly doubled over, leaning on her staff, Chaotic Skies. Wracking coughs sprayed blood onto the table. The crimson blotches spread through the cloth, the stain slowly clearing as essence underwent dissolution. Sylvia trembled, turning her head so she glared up at Kenzo.

The redheaded jarl puffed, self-assured by her weakness.

“It is not I but my Lord Haugen who demands,” Kenzo corrected, offering a bow that did nothing to hide his arrogance.

“Be more careful with your words in the future,” she warned.

Sylvia straightened, acting as though nothing had happened. Beneath her calm was a tension, the pained strain of a girl faking her normality. She was putting every lesson she’d learned to use. The skill books Art of the Con and Life is a Mask were paying dividends, conveying a layered and very authentic-looking performance.

Jarl Watanabe’s gaze flickered, his lips curling in a subtle sneer. “It is not my wish to say this, Your Highness, but it is my duty. Hertogi Haugen grows tired of your foot-dragging. If the Azure Expedition continues to refuse us aid, then we will see your ‘army’ as no different than the forces of Summer.”

Sylvia let out a huff. “Should I take that as a formal request for assistance? If so, I have a squad of soldiers ready to provide it.”

She hadn’t yet grasped Kenzo’s game. Was the man really so haughty he’d speak that way to a Transcendent? Or were his manners as fake as hers? She wouldn’t put it past the troll to use the jarl to test her patience. Then again, Kenzo Watanabe was Class VI to her Class VIII. He might well think his social status was equal to hers. After all, he was a ‘real noble,’ not some petty princess from a barely risen backwater.

Strength mattered in the netherworld, but it wasn’t everything. Money mattered too. But… she was probably ten times richer than the jarl.

“A handful of soldiers and a flight of falcons are useless. What can they do against Sect Leader Furuta? Send your immortal beast.” Kenzo paused. Then he added, “Lady Swallows.”

“Lord Lenape is not ours to command,” Sylvia dismissed coldly. “I have said it before and I’ll say it again: if the Erlking’s Expedition requires greater protection, let me plant eyes and phantasms within your wards. Katsumoto wouldn’t dare approach if he knew I could rain magic wherever he hid.”

She wasn’t kidding either. Katsumoto had poked at her base a few times before giving up. Every gamer and every ant was a sensor. It took mere seconds for her to respond. And once she did, she could harass him continuously from any angle while he was forced to dodge the attacks of multiple gamers.

As for Lenape? Well, that claim wasn’t untrue either. Immortal beasts were powerful creatures with minds of their own. Their desires didn’t align with those of humans, making them notoriously difficult to control. If Sylvia were to ask a favor of Nithe, High Queen Telma, or Empress Idetta, she’d get a variety of answers. Empress Idetta would want proof that her request served the Great Work. High Queen Telma wouldn’t lift a single antenna if the issue didn’t fall within her self-defined duties. Nithe would kill her for having the gall to ask him anything.

Lenape was something of an oddity, being unusually friendly and helpful. But the Erlking’s Expedition didn’t know that.

“You ask us to trust you after your failed attempt to seize the ridge?” Kenzo questioned.

“Whether Ivar offers his trust is none of my concern,” she dismissed. “I have set my terms. Do you want my squadron or not?”

“Hertogi Haugen will reach out to his friends in Winter,” Kenzo sneered.

“And I, my allies in Aut – ” Sylvia’s words were broken by another fit of coughs. Gritting her teeth, she straightened, forcing her shuddering form to stillness. Her pastel pink eyes flashed. “Take our aid as it is offered, then get out. I’ve had enough of your attitude, Jarl Watanabe.”

Kenzo let out a huff. “Send your soldiers, and quickly.”

The pug-faced furaribi turned, then walked out the door. Sylvia made a sharp gesture, slamming it shut behind him. Then all the tension vanished from her frame. With ladylike elegance, she slid back into her seat, the teapot rising to refill her cup.

Was she getting an Oscar for this? She deserved an Oscar.

Taking another sip of her tea, the princess listened to the roar of the cannons. Oh? Did she sense a shift in the fog? Rasce must’ve teleported back to help. What a shame. Her falcons wouldn’t even be halfway there before Sect Leader Furuta fled in defeat.

How delightful. This was turning out to be a very nice day. Though, it would’ve been nicer if she didn’t have so much dacquoise paperwork!

-oOo-

Nimbus Weekly
The Best Newspaper in Azure Reach
1st Week of Men-Ferrum 

Parliament Splits the Reach
By Owen Harris

After years of debate, the Parliament of the Reach has completed the Provincial System. The Azure Archipelago is now divided into thirteen formal territories, each managed by an Office of Administration appointed by the governor. The territorial administrators will be responsible for issuing permits and setting local regulations. This includes the selling of resource extraction rights and the definition of PvE versus PvP zones.

All territories must incorporate into a province after they reach a population of fifty thousand. It is up to the local citizens to elect a parliament. Once formed, the parliament will create a government, with one minister of that parliament serving as a premier.

For now, the Office of the Governor retains direct control over the Three Sister Archipelago and the shadow islands beneath Pyrinas. However, the Parliament of the Reach has commanded the completion of the Gateway Express main quest to unlock these regions. It is expected that the question of how to handle those lands will be settled in the years to come.

“It is our hope that the development of our plane comes with ever greater self-determination,” Representative Ward said. “Today is a victory for democracy and for all the people of Azure Reach.”

Earth-Side Terrorists Cause Network Disruptions
By Liam Martin

Smoke rises from the smoldering shell of a data center in Hamburg, Germany. Crowds of protesters gather around the blackened building, carrying signs reading “People Over Machines,” “Down with the Devil,” and “Don’t Touch Our Volts!” This violent movement is one among many that have arisen in the last few years after AI decimated the mortal economy. Police try to keep the protesters off the grounds. A Molotov cocktail flies, exploding in a spread of yellow fire, a symbol of the people’s anger.

For those in the netherworld, mortal concerns feel distant. The System has been at our side for decades. But our situation is different from theirs. The same System that disrupts our labor elevates our abilities, ensuring we never become defunct.

Until, last Friday, their problems became our own. Over the weekend, many saw an unusual message: ‘Due to extraordinary traffic, your request has been queued.’

“Two-thirds of the System’s computation power now resides in Azure Reach,” Professor Ross of the Astral Observatory explained. “The dungeons installed around our world support the processing load of the players. However, when resource-intensive activities are triggered, such as a blank skill book, the excess load is often transferred to server farms on Earth.”

The data center in Hamburg was one of several which sold computational resources to the System’s Earth-side operations. The weekend’s disruptions are a reminder that we are still tied to the mortal world.

“The majority of our dungeons have yet to attain maturity,” Professor Ross continued. “When they do, we’ll have sufficient resources to support between 1.5 million and 2 million players. However, just as Azure Reach relies on Earth, Hell and the Fey Federation make heavy use of our processing resources. If the gamer population continues to expand, we’ll soon run out of the fruits we use to fuel our numbers. This is why the Cloud Princess fights on Emain Ablach.”

Descent into Darkness (Part 4 of 7)
By Tiffany Lowe

Corpses lie scattered all around us, the dim light of the cavern shimmering off their shells. The dead beetles cover the floor, tired warriors moving between them to cut out the most precious parts. Most, however, dissolve into ether. The thick, pungent scent of blood essence is heady.

Yet everyone wears a smile. Shadowshell’s titanic form lies in front of us. The nether beast’s invincible carapace is cracked and ruined. After a long battle, victory is ours. No one has the energy to celebrate. The few who are willing to move crawl over the corpse, collecting trophies to offset last week’s loss.

“We’ll camp here for tonight,” Piper declares. The redhead stands atop Shadowshell’s head like a legendary hero. “Tomorrow, we’ll pull Shadowshell’s soul from his nest. Then we’ll turn this place into our fortress. The new frame will be built in this cavern.”

With Shadowshell defeated, the waygate can finally be erected, opening a door to the Abyss. We all look forward to the return of our lost companions, but this is secondary to our task, which is to set down roots in the forbidden land. As the others force themselves back onto their feet, I find my way to the Guild Master of the Sky Scouts. She is generous enough to share her screen with me. It’s a map of the Abyss. Despite our grand plan, less than one percent of the land has been uncovered.

I ask her how long she thinks it’ll take to explore the whole of it. Piper’s silver eyes turn hard. A grim expression sits on her face. “That’ll depend on the nether beasts.”

Her words are heavy. I hear them ring in my heart. Our opening moves were already a struggle. How many years will these brave explorers live in these lands? How many decades will it take to tame it?

New Sport or Public Nuisance?
By Owen Harris

Men on brooms smash into each other. The player in a red uniform is sent reeling. The ball in his hands bursts out with a wave of force, flying free. A different man in yellow streaks overhead, catching it before making a hard turn to rush toward the ring on the other side of the field. The team in red tries to intercept. Some hold padded bats while others cast predefined concussion spells.

The game I’m describing is called burst ball. The sport has been spreading across Axis in the last year. The rules are simple. When the ball is thrown through the hoops, that team scores a point. The tricky part is in the violence and the style. Burst ball is a full-contact aerial sport.

“The best part is when you whack the carrier upside the head with your bat,” one enthusiastic player said. “The ball is enchanted to burst out in a wave of force when the carrier is hit, so it always goes flying. Spells are permitted too, but only the sequences defined by the league.”

Not everyone is as enthused. Flying tools are expensive, making burst ball an exclusive sport. The citizens of Viridian City widely regard the players as rich hooligans. Their antics have gotten so out of control that the city banned the game within its borders, forcing the players out into the rural outskirts.

“Just look at it,” a frustrated woman said, gesturing to a wide field of rice. Here and there can be seen the scars left behind by an impromptu game, the crops blasted by stray spells or crushed when players were smashed into the dirt. “My líng mǐ is ruined because of those hooligans. That’s a fifth of my profit right there.”

The players of burst ball contend that their game is harmless, but to the farmers operating on razor-thin margins, even a small loss is a major blow. With so many people frustrated, it is only a matter of time before the Parliament of the Reach settles the question of legality once and for all.