Chapter: 509 Bonus - Grediv and a Brief Overview of Entities (Patreon)

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‘In a time before there were even five cycling cities, a newly advanced Paragon rose to prominence as a solver of problems, a facer of unknown foes that weren’t quite seen as requiring the attention of one of the very few Reforged whom gated-humanity could claim to its defense.’

Grediv lowered his stylus before storing it and his Archive slate and looking around himself. The whole idea of cycling cities was still ‘new’ to him, even if it had been a few centuries by this point. After all, they were already considering greatly increasing the route the cities would cycle through.

Regardless, this day, he stood in an ancient graveyard, a place where uncounted dead had been buried whenever one of the nearby city-sites was in use. It was positioned between three such, not close to any, but convenient enough to all three.

Caravans, laden with the dead, came monthly from each of those currently active cities, meaning that barely more than a week would go by between visits, and since it generally took nearly a week to properly inter the newly dead, the area was understandably active.

It was in one of the lulls, however, that Grediv had chosen to arrive.

The coroners had been reporting suspicious signs for months now. Old graves and crypts were being opened, the dead being violated.

Such grave-robbing was hardly new, but as nothing of value was ever left with the dead, it had limited appeal, so happened rarely. Instead, the Mages who had done the preliminary investigations had found places of… disturbing resonances of power.

Grediv examined one such location.

There was a fracture in the fabric of existence, clearly broken outward into Zeme in a way that demonstrated that something had been pulled through from the other side.

Necromancy. This confirmed it, even if the circumstances hadn’t done so already.

Some monster—humanoid or not—was enticing souls to cross back over from the next world, before enslaving them for dark purposes.

The process flayed off any uniqueness, any identity of the returning souls, leaving them little more than abraded husks, tunnels for power to travel between worlds.

They did not represent a true return of the dead in any meaningful sense. Instead, it was a peddling of lies to draw out power sources.

Most would never fall for such lies, but the souls in the next life were infinite.

All souls could answer such temptations, and many had done so for eons. Grediv had only recently learned that these were most likely the inspiration behind gates, or at least they could have been a source of inspiration, given the similarities.

For that was the point.

The returned soul—while bereft of identity and self—maintained a connection to the next world, unable to come back fully. As such, they became sources of magic to those they’d bound themselves to.

To be properly harnessed, the soul had to be put into a body of some kind—that was part of the lure after all—in which it acted much like a golem or elemental, but completely subservient to the one who had drawn it forth.

Let’s see… Seven wisp-grunts bound to allow the harkening of a flicker guard. Seven of those to allow a flame sergeant. Seven sets more and then a bone blaze knight can come. Seven of those to allow a roaring lord. And if there are seven of those?

Grediv shuddered. If there were seven of those, he would be calling on Master Jandev and praying his newfound advancement was sufficient to keep him alive in the proximity of an undimmed monarch until assistance arrived.

He shook himself. There was no real chance that this could have come that far already. It had only been a couple of months. How could any have already entrapped more than nineteen thousand souls.

He needed to move beyond theoreticals, however. He had two possible approaches.

He could hide himself and wait for the necromancer to show himself, or Grediv could blanket the area with his aura, announcing himself, resonating with any nearby undead to reveal them, and provoking a fight.

…A fight sounded like a lot more fun.

So, he just needed to create soul resonances to reveal any hidden undead.

Green-tinted power and authority rolled out across the landscape. It only took a moment before the undead responded, shredded half-souls flaring to life, some few underground, others within structures, and a few even hiding behind some standing stones.

The feel of them was eerily like that of gates within humanity, and Grediv was faced with the unpleasant reality that arcane suspicion of gated-humanity had some basis in reasonability.

They were wrong, but not as wrong as he would have liked.

There were… thousands. Not more than ten, but still far more than there really should have been able to be.

This necromancer had been careful, but something must have changed. The man seemed confident because he’d returned the vessels of his thralls to their resting places, making them easier to discover.

If that was the case, then the man had to be…

A maniacal laugh echoed from behind a stone building barely proceeding a small gateless woman stepping into view. She looked human but many arcane races do under such thick robes.

Oh… that was silly of me. Of course women can be evil too.

“You have fallen into my trap, fool!” She cackled again.

Oh, she’s overstrained her being. Her caution is gone because the madness has set in… He frowned, irritated that he was having to rectify so many disparate sources of information. I really should start taking notes and collating what I know and what I can find and verify.

“Your soul will be a wonderful capstone to my—”

Grediv blasted her with his most powerful attack, a beam of condensed power that wiped her from existence with a little pop.

He nodded once in contentment. He was so glad that he’d improved enough to make that an instantaneous activation since his advancement. Trying to wield it effectively with a ‘charge-up’ time had been irritating.

With the death of the necromancer, the undead became instantly untethered, their souls being sucked back to the next world where their eternal existence would be much lesser for their having fallen for the temptress’s false promises.

Hopefully something could be done for them, but that was an issue for those on the other side of death.

Grediv grimaced, looked around, and sighed. There were a lot of bodies to deal with, and while most were mere bones, some were a bit more… pungent.

If I ever get to choose, we’re just cremating the dead…

He could take the next couple days to get a good start cleanup before the next caravan of dead arrived and the workers could help finish the task.

Or…

Grediv pulled out a slate and began to write.

Necromancers. If the madness has taken them, all that you need to do is get them monologuing and their death is easily assured. As their followers are a keystone army, this will solve the issue nicely at a single stroke. If you are not so lucky, or if you are forced to fight your way to them for any other reason…

  *

The arcane before him had an air of competence and confidence that Grediv hadn’t encountered before.

Moreover, the little bearlike creature didn’t immediately attack.

Could this be one of the… Eskau? An elite of one of the great houses? He frowned. No… that wasn’t right. What were they called again? Right! Major Houses.

The little creature examined Grediv then sighed. “Are you able to speak for gated-humanity?”

Grediv stiffened, but only for a moment. He mastered himself, relaxed, and responded levelly, “On some issues, yes, but most I will need to bring before those more advanced.”

The arcane gave a shallow bow. “As is only fitting for those such as us. I am Ebar, Eskau of the House of the Glorious Ursine. My House wishes to discuss our protection and sponsorship of gated-humanity.”

Grediv felt his eyebrows rise. Was it really happening? Were the arcanes starting to recognize them as more than—

“For the simple price of a hundred years of agreed-to service from each of your dead, working as vestiges—exclusively for our House of course—we would be happy to sponsor your population and enfold them into our ranks. We have many positions in our holds for such workers.”

Grediv glowered. “You would have us trade our dead to you? Enslave our very souls?”

And that was assuming they would actually honor the one hundred year timeframe, or treat them as anything other than slaves.

He fought back a growl, waiting to hear the response even if he already thought he knew what it would be.

“Only those who die from now on, we have to have you all put the education and spellwork in place to ensure that we catch every one of their souls for the term of their contracts. Thus, they will have agreed.” The Eskau gave a self-satisfied smile. “Is it really such a large price to pay to prevent conflict?”

“And we would be subject to you and your House?”

“Of course. We would have to be able to guide you to keep you safe, to protect your lives and our investment.”

Grediv didn’t need to consult anyone. Humanity had received such offers before, and they weren’t even worth enough to be called a golden cage. “The answer is no.”

Ebar shook his head. “Then you shall die, and I will see if the next of your ‘Archons’ to come face me is more reasonable.”

Bone weapons grew into being in the Eskau’s hands, a unified set that blazed to Grediv’s eyes, a trapped human soul within. What had he called it? A vestige?

Grediv growled even as he readied himself. He had fought arcanes before, and he would again. He was more advanced than this Ebar, after all.

It would be over quickly.

Two hours later, Grediv groaned as he used his power to levitate back toward the closest city.

He had no legs with which to walk, and he was missing his right arm below the elbow.

His eyes were blind, and he only knew where he was going because of his perceptual inscriptions and natural magics.

Still, he had won… sort of. The arcane had finally run out of power, the powersource within his weapons unable to do more than slow his inevitable loss of magic.

Once Grediv had won through, only a timely remembrance of a teacher's words had kept him from killing the little bear. The death of Eskau is always avenged.

Because of that, Grediv had simply hurtled the bear toward the south, trusting the arcane’s advanced body to absorb the landing, wherever he eventually smacked back into Zeme.

Note: Eskau are more powerful than their advancement would indicate.

He let out an involuntary whimper.

Ignore that fact at your peril.

  *

Grediv chased after the lanky, stick-like figure who had been breaking into homes all night, leaving poisonous insects, sharp and dangerous toys, and other such oddities behind.

The Paragon was steady as he sprinted across the snow, his magic keeping his footing sure. He chased the bone-white creature, only its black clothing allowing him to pick it out against the snow.

It was clearly not human—it wasn’t even a human skeleton—but the city defenses weren’t removing it, despite Grediv explicitly marking the thing for eradication.

He couldn’t understand it.

Its movements were often like a jack-in-the-box, with it contracting down before springing forth once more.

He’d never seen anything like it but that hardly mattered. He almost had it cornered, and then he’d—

It jumped at the trunk of a pine tree, vanishing as if there had been a hole there.

Grediv couldn’t detect any magics on the tree, but he did feel a hint of the backside of Reality.

He shuddered, waiting long hours to ensure the creature did not return.

I can’t call it a skeletal jack-in-the-box. There was no box. Just calling it Jack would be ridiculous…Skeletal Jack? Jack Skelly? He shook his head. He’d figure out a name later. In all likelihood one of the others had encountered it before, so he could just use the name they’d chosen.

What a rusting weird way to spend mid-winter’s night…

  *

Grediv laid back and regarded the stars above. The cities were good about keeping light pollution down, but it couldn’t be removed entirely with so many people living close together. We humans do love our light.

As such, he liked to come out into the wilds every so often in order to see the stars, undiluted.

He came alone, which made the sound of running footsteps all the more confusing when they interrupted his stargazing.

He sat bolt upright only to find one of the fox-kin sprinting toward him, her voice filled with terror. “Please! You have to protect me. Hide me, bind me, I don’t care! Please!”

Grediv caught up the little fox-arcane. He’d had dealings with them before, and they were always meticulous in their words and the honoring of their deals. She would not be lying about the danger. “I’m Grediv. I will help you if I can, but what is after you?”

“I am Affier. Bargain struck.”

Grediv felt existence quiver slightly at the words, and he cursed internally at his mistake. Still, he hadn’t been foolish in his wording so it wasn’t worth contesting. “What is after you, Affier?”

“That!” She pointed and as Grediv looked, something slipped into the superficial.

It was a towering construction of gears and wheels, metal and steam in a bipedal form. A face like a man’s sat atop the vaguely humanoid shape, even if it was far squatter and thicker than any human Grediv had heard tell of.

When it saw Grediv, it hesitated for the briefest of moments before pointing. “Human, hand over the convict. Fox-kin Affier is guilty of breach of contract. She is required to submit herself to the strictures of Order.”

The fox somehow paled despite her fur, even as she huddled closer in Grediv’s arms. The Paragon cleared his throat. “Is there anything that can be done? I have agreed to help her if I can.”

The construct tilted its head to the side—seemingly looking at something that Grediv couldn’t see—before responding. “Negative. Even the laying down of your life would change nothing. She only cements her guilt in binding others to oppose justice.”

Grediv almost objected, but then there was a pulse of something, and his aura and authority were utterly washed away.

The construct before him had no magic that he could detect, but its authority was absolute. He knew in that instant that he only drew breath—his heart only beat—because the construct allowed it to be so.

Metal hands stretched out, taking the limp fox-kin from Grediv’s unmoving arms.

“Your bargain was not breached, human. Take this as a warning. Do not violate oaths nor bargains. Order will be maintained.”

Then, the construct left the superficial, Affier in hand.

Grediv collapsed to his knees, panting heavily.

After a long moment, he was finally able to form a coherent thought, Well, rust the stars. I’m going home.

  *

Grediv hated bugs.

Magical bugs that acted in swarms were even worse. Those that were old—or powerful—enough to gain a sense of sapience?

Those were the worst.

He sent a beam of annihilation into the cloud of disgusting insects.

His mastery was total, his power perfected, his strike unresistable.

Thus of the uncountable cloud of despicable lifeforms, one was obliterated utterly.

Well, I don’t really know what I expected.

He brought other magics to bear, doing his best to manage the swarm as it tried to attack the caravan that had called for aid.

While he didn’t feel like he was doing any good. He must have been because, eventually, the swarm had found—or manifested—a form of burlap, the insects pouring into it in order to animate and give it form and function.

“Why won’t you let me eat those tasty people?” Its voice was oddly boisterous in its pleading, even while it reminded him of nothing so much as a million tiny legs skittering inside his ears.

Grediv repressed an involuntary shudder.

“Moreover, why do you resist your own demise? Don’cha know who I am?”

“No.” Grediv raised his hand and activated his most powerful attack. After all, he now only had one target.

With a flash of light from his sapphire staff, the conglomerated creature was gone.

Huh… maybe the sentient ones are better to deal with…

  *

Grediv sat in a research lab, skeptical of Master Queue and what he’d claimed to have found.

“I’m telling you, it’s a cornerstone of the world.”

Grediv regarded the oddly heavy bit of quartz on the table before them. “Master Queue, I grant you that there is something odd about the rough gem you found, but what are you talking about? It’s not a true fragment. So, what do you mean?”

“It’s a piece of undamaged existence, crystalized and set adrift in the void. I managed to find it and snatch it forth. Can you imagine how valuable it is?”

“To whom? Who would even want it? What is it good for?” Grediv found himself baffled by his friend.

“What is it good for? Are you mad? Any magics anchored to this would be eternal, needing no power source. If the magics include a distribution of power, then it becomes an eternal power source. Don’t you understand! This is—”

Master Queue was interrupted by a rumbling followed by a series of overlapping screeching wails that only high-level Archons would be able to detect. Each indicated a different defense against breaches in the city being triggered or breached. From the sound of it, every one had been triggered then breached in quick succession.

Existence itself bowed and distorted within the room before cracking open to allow the tips of two unfathomably large claws to reach forth to pluck up the crystal that they had been discussing.

Through the rent, Grediv saw a reptilian body of mind-breaking size as the dragon took the treasure for its own, drawing it into the underpinnings of reality.

A moment later, existence repaired itself and the warning alarms deactivated one by one while Grediv and Master Queue sat, staring at one another, both as pale as the grave.

Finally, Master Queue cleared his throat. “I think I won’t try to get another.”

Grediv nodded. “That is likely for the best, yes.”

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