The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop

Chapter 73: The Anthus Conspiracy I

“You could have just come here with that fancy new Dimensional Step of yours.”

“And miss out on all the sights and joys of trekking through the wilds? I think not,” Orodan defended, and she hummed in agreement, having enjoyed it as well.

Yes, there were roads he could have taken to arrive the regular way. But those were the trappings of civilization, and sometimes a walk through nature served one better. He wouldn’t have gained the five levels in Pathfinding either.

Five entire levels gained in Pathfinding, in a singular journey. It was a ridiculous gain, all thanks to his Combat Mastery.

Combat Transcendence was a strange and powerful thing. Even now Orodan felt he had yet to fathom the true potential of what he’d stumbled upon. Each step in the wilds came with insights as his mind, which split into many and became his skills, went to war with itself to provide the greatest outcome possible.

He walked left, and Wood Communion battled to insist he go right where the worst of the underbrush was, and Pathfinding would gain the most. He thought of going straight, and then Physical Fitness waged war to demand he instead handstand and walk on a singular finger through an incredibly rocky stretch between two mountains. He then wanted to go right but Vision of Purity fought to ensure he swam through a filth-filled swamp and explored the completely mud-flooded caves for the real Pathfinding experience.

He’d ended up getting lost multiple times as he wandered in circles, seeking the most challenging things possible. Until at last Pathfinding itself had stepped in, seeing that no further gains were possible in these particular parts of the wild, and it had set him on the correct path to Anthus.

With the military and the militia for each county doing regular patrols and sweeps, the roads and the immediate area around them weren’t too bad. The wilds off of the beaten path were a different story though. Plenty of the deeper wilds had Master and Grandmaster-level monsters, and much of them were uncharted, with expansions by any towns or cities having to be carefully planned in advance, or backed by the assurance of Grandmasters. Anyone else trekking through the eastern wilds of the Republic of Aden would have been in for a bad time.

Orodan though, had an uneventful journey. For starters, creatures with magical senses or soul detection abilities just couldn’t find him. And those that did have the ability to sense him physically - easily done given how loudly he tromped about the underbrush - avoided Orodan anyhow. A natural reaction to them being unable to get any instinctual feel off of him. A wise and understandable move since the wilds were no fairy tale utopia of gentle nature, but a brutal ecosystem in which monsters were as vulnerable to one another as people were to them.

Orodan knew he was getting close to Anthus when he began hearing the distant sounds of artillery, roars and the sounds of battle. The numerous bands of Apprentice and Adept-level monsters gathering for assaults upon the walls, or battered survivors of failed attacks were also visible.

Naturally, the city was under daily siege by monsters due to the presence of an energy well. It was an open-air energy well too, unlike the one he’d found beneath Jerestir. Which meant that flying monsters and those who dwelled on the surface were all too happy to try their luck at delving the well.

Monsters were at times driven by instinct, but they weren’t suicidal. Charging against the walls of a heavily defended military city wasn’t done just out of bloodlust, but opportunity. Orodan had heard, that a few times a month, a monster or two might be quick enough to slip by and dive into the well. From there, they could find a forsaken corner of the well to camp in and enjoy the benefits of the rich saturation of world energy.

Supposedly, a captured monster once admitted that attempting a mad dash into the hole was a far safer route than attempting to reach the well through the depths. Competition among the monsters must’ve been fierce if they considered assailing a defended human city safer than an underground path.

In any case, the fact was that Anthus was under regular attack by monsters, an entirely normal phenomenon for any cities built around an energy well. This meant that travel to and from the city was exceedingly dangerous as monsters would prowl the outskirts, either forming up for a new assault or recovering and licking their wounds from a failed one.

There was no civilized habitation of humans within a hundred miles of the city’s walls. The constant presence of monsters made that an impossibility. Aside from the dragons to the north-west, the next nearest thing was Fort Redvane, an imposing military structure, roughly a hundred and ten miles west. Civilians didn’t directly travel to the city, they couldn’t. Instead, any travel to and from Anthus was almost exclusively between Fort Redvane and very rarely between the Time Wind dragon flight’s settlement and Anthus. This travel consisted of heavily armed and armored convoys who could batter their way through a monster horde if needed.

As Orodan crested a hill and finally took in the sight of Anthus with his actual eyes and not just Vision of Purity, it was chaos.

A large metallic carriage, the size of a small house, was being pulled by four horses which clearly had levels in Physical Fitness. These horses were not only armored, but were capable of combat themselves as they gored, trampled and headbutted the many monsters of the swarm they were fighting through. Atop these carriage-pulling steeds were armored riders, doing the same and fighting alongside their horses. The carriage had a full military company defending it, with over a hundred veteran soldiers in ring formation fighting off the horde.

Two ranks of shielded spears up front, swords behind to cleave any monsters that got too close, and archers, crossbows and javelineers behind those, with a small corp of mages at the center providing support. These weren’t any soldiers of a noble house, but the military of the Republic of Aden.

No casualties were taken, and they didn’t appear to be struggling either; their demeanor suggesting this was a routine occurrence.

The carriage had windows too, and in one of them, Orodan saw a face he found oddly familiar. Not in a nice way though.

“Have you seen that girl before?” Zaessythra asked.

“No… but I already have an innate feeling of dislike for some reason,” Orodan replied. “Strange.”

His thoughts and the din of battle were interrupted by the bellow of a horn from atop the tall walls of Anthus.

“Open the gates and clear the way!” an army lieutenant ordered. “Get those troops inside the walls!”

The city gates opened as a flood of cavalry rushed outwards. Heavily armored mounted riders trampled and lanced the swarm, and lighter armored horses bearing mounted archers swiftly outmaneuvered the horde and peppered the creatures with arrows while remaining out of reach. Working in tandem, the way was cleared enough that the carriage and all the troops defending it were able to make it inside. And the salvos of magic, arrows and artillery intensified near the end as the final few soldiers made their way back in.

“Ah… but how will we ever get in now?” Zaessythra asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Orodan walked forward, and the swarms of monsters assailing the wall didn’t initially notice, partially thanks to his soul being unreadable. Eventually however, the first few monsters running past him did, and those among them capable of sensing souls were alarmed when they found themselves unable to read anything about him.

“A rock? It has no soul and yet it walks?” a nearby minotaur growled.

“It must be a golem! But my instincts tell me nothing…” a skittering centipede chittered.

“I can smell the scent of humanity off it!” a naga hissed. “It’s been caught outside! Kill it!”

Individually, a monster might have stopped to consider why something wasn’t giving off any readings to its instincts. It should have rightfully been wary, but when in an attacking swarm, such cautions tended to fall to the wayside as mob mentality took over. Humans could fall victim to the same thing, so he didn’t hold it against them.

The monsters rushed Orodan…

…only to begin wailing and whimpering in pain and shock as claws, teeth and weaponry simply shattered upon his skin.

Anything below the level of a Transcendent was incapable of hurting him.

“Soldier outside the walls!”

“Who the hells is that?!”

“Run for the rope, lad! We’ll hoist you up!”

The troops on the walls clamored at the sight, but Orodan simply kept walking through the horde. The monsters tried biting, clawing, tearing and grabbing him, but none of it worked. He simply continued walking, entirely unaffected by the swarm, like an inevitable force en route to a fated destination.

Monsters shrieked as they fell off him and were trampled by the rest of the swarm, and even the largest of them, giant spiders the size of small buildings, tripped over him and fell upon the rest, flattening many. Soon, the swarm began to take the hint and backed away as Orodan stood before the gates.

“I seek entry to Anthus!” Orodan announced.

The walls were silent, and even the continual monster assaults had abated for a moment as they too were more intent on watching this spectacle than attacking.

The on-duty lieutenant, a stern-looking woman, stepped forward making herself visible on the walls. Her voice was magically amplified; a necessity when the walls were fifty metres tall and Orodan was on the ground below.

“I’m Lieutenant Elmira Altamari. Republic military and section commander for the west wall of Anthus. We must ask that you identify yourself traveler! None of our soul specialists or monster tamers can get a reading off of you.”

“Orodan Wainwright. Private, Volarbury County Militia, Ogdenborough barracks!”

“O-Ogdenborough…”

“A private of the county militia…?”

“Isn’t that House Argon territory?”

“My cousin’s a maid working at the mayor’s mansion there! Says the man’s a real slime!”

“Quiet!” the lieutenant barked, silencing the troops. “Mister Wainwright, while I’m not qualified to question one of your caliber too closely… surely you can see how… illogical it is, for you to claim you’re a private in a county’s militia?”

“Well, it’s the truth, no matter how illogical you find it,” Orodan replied, looking up at her. “I didn’t officially resign today, therefore I’m technically still a member of the county militia.”

The poor woman looked stressed. As though she knew a practical joke was being played upon her, but it was by someone she couldn’t speak carelessly to. In truth, Orodan wouldn’t have minded even if she did explode and have a temperamental outburst. It would only be reasonable in her position.

The communications amulet around her neck appeared to glow, and the lieutenant was speaking back and forth with someone before finally nodding.

“Mister Wainwright, it’s not my place to question your story. However, despite your evident strength, my superiors have deemed it most discourteous to have you standing outside the walls in the presence of the monster swarm. We shall allow you inside to speak with them,” the lieutenant said. “Soldiers! Prepare for battle! Open the gat-”

[Dimensional Step 8 → Dimensional Step 9]

“No need to trouble yourself on my behalf,” Orodan said, stepping through the pores of the dimensional boundary and re-appearing right next to the woman atop the walls. “The gate won’t need to be opened.”

The soldiers on the walls were more than a little shocked. Perhaps that the anti-spatiomancy wards were so easily bypassed?

His feat hadn’t gone unnoticed though, and it drew more attention than just the soldiers present.

Orodan felt it in his Vision of Purity. A tiny spatial rift so minute that the untrained naked eye would have no hope of seeing it. And he focused Vision of Purity unto it, and what was on the other side.

“You can come out, old man,” Orodan announced.

The spatial rift increased in size to first become the width of a needlepoint, and then expanded to become man-sized. And out stepped Destartes. A triple-Grandmaster mage, one of the mightiest humans in the Republic, and someone Orodan could respect for refusing to consort with Gods. This was a man who strived to reach the heights of magic under his own power.

“Who are you?” Destartes asked, still wary.

Orodan could sense the numerous spatial barriers, and the pre-loaded spatial spell ready to go lest the encounter turn sour. Smart.

“Orodan Wainwright,” he introduced. “How did you notice I was there? I didn’t utilize any spatiomancy.”

“I’ve never heard the name,” Destartes said, frowning. “As for how, an overly large man like yourself suddenly occupying the space when there was naught but air before is hard to miss.”

Orodan’s eyebrows quirked upwards in surprise. That was impressive. His own Vision of Purity did a similar thing when it came to impurities, but to think the same could be applied to space was quite something.

In other words, it brought up the possibility that even if he stepped onto Lonvoron via Dimensional Step, he could still be detected through the simple fact that a man-sized body had entered where previously there was none. And given how skilled the previous time looper was… it was practically a certainty that they’d know to monitor space itself.

“Quite the powerful detection ability. How far does that go?” Orodan asked.

“My concentration and awareness have their limits, but I choose to focus my attention over Anthus at all times,” Destartes answered. “It won’t do to allow the Gods and their toadies entry into one of the few human cities on Inuan where they have no sway.”

Good to know. Perhaps he could still use Dimensional Step, as long as it was within an unmonitored area.

Though, Orodan was beginning to form a very direct and stupid idea in his mind of how to deal with discovery by the previous time looper.

“Not stupid, just ostentatious and absurd.”

A fairer assessment from her than he would have thought.

“This city’s really God-free then?” Orodan asked. “I was wondering why no Avatars have descended to greet me by now.”

“Through painstaking labor, careful vetting of everyone within and many executions of spies and moles… yes,” Destartes affirmed. “Anthus, is a secular city.”

The idea of secularism, in a world where Gods were very much real and bestowed tangible Blessings, was a difficult one to enforce. Yet Anthus, under the leadership of Destartes and the Republic’s military heads, had managed to do this. From what he knew, the Chosen of the Gods, their Favored and their Avatars tended to avoid this place. The mighty war machinery and numerous mages on the walls might have something to do with that too.

Destartes, while mighty couldn’t have been the only reason for this. In truth, the city’s close proximity to the Time Wind dragon flight’s settlement, just north-west of them, was a big factor. It was no secret that the dragons detested Ilyatana, and by proxy they were icy towards the Prime Five and the Cathedral which represented them in the mortal world.

Which, if Orodan was being honest, suited him just fine. The less Gods he dealt with, the better. Perhaps Zaessythra had been onto something when she’d espoused the difference between honoring a grudge and an unsettling obsession. While he couldn’t abide by allowing Agathor to remain in control of his mentor Arvayne Firesword, at the very least… Orodan would consider not killing the Gods.

Though their wicked influence over Alastaia would be purged all the same.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I was getting tired of killing Gods and their lackeys,” Orodan said. A few of the soldiers stiffened, after all, faith in the Prime Five was still prominent upon Inuan. None dared say a thing, however.

Destartes looked him up and down closely though.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Your claims are rather far-fetched, Orodan Wainwright,” Destartes said. “Yet I have a strange hunch that you do not lie. You claim not to have killed an Avatar, but a God themselves? How?”

“The same way I didn’t trigger the anti-spatiomancy wards,” Orodan said, partially shifting through the boundary between planes. “Dimensionalism.”

“I know what Dimensionalism is,” Destartes said. “But traveling through dimensions? How can such a thing be possible? Long have I studied the boundaries between dimensions, and in no way are they easily moved. The energy expenditure for even the cheapest of journeys would be colossal.”

“Aye, you’d be right on that. Shifting the dimensional boundary enough for me to move to another plane is quite the energy intensive endeavor,” Orodan affirmed. “Yet, there’s more than one way to cross the dimensional divide. Consider the boundary itself, how does divine energy cross over from the realm of the Gods and into ours?”

“Hmm… the porous nature of the boundary is rather evident,” Destartes said, stroking his beard. “I’ve pondered the possibility of travel via the natural openings in the boundary, but a singular misstep and you’d be torn apart! The timing is simply too narrow for it. Dimensional travel isn’t the issue; the safe and reliable execution of it is. Particularly in a format achievable by a singular spellcaster.”

Indeed, dimensional travel wasn’t unheard of or impossible. Devil summoning, incredibly rare nowadays on Alastaia, was a form of dimensional travel. The demon was somehow granted passage from the hells to the material plane, though it created and entered said dimensional pathway itself. Similarly, even without the direct movement of people, the functioning of Blessings, the empowerment of Chosen with divine energy from their Gods, and the descent of Avatars, were all forms of dimensional travel.

Orodan was hardly the herald of a new field of magic. Dimensionalism was known to and practiced by the peoples of Alastaia, and attempts at skirting anti-spatiomancy wards through dimensional travel had been studied. Though, these methods were deemed either too costly or easily discoverable due to the high amounts of energy involved. Even his dimensional rings, while of incredibly high value, weren’t an unheard-of concept, simply a ruinously expensive one that only he could sidestep through his endless power.

“Right, I won’t deny that it took me first replicating dimensional travel through a self-made enchanting language before I was able to study the process in this manner and replicate it,” Orodan said. “I also had some teachings from a dimensional phase spider to draw upon.”

“…you actually encountered one?!”

“Of course I did! Why it was the single most pretentious and arrogant creature I’ve met!” Orodan exclaimed. “While I don’t have a body that’s naturally built for dimensional travel like those spiders, I did pick up a trick or two from it.”

“Didn’t you practically ambush it and then slam it upon its head?”

Ah right… Orodan had forgotten that detail.

“How did you even convince it to teach you?” Destartes asked, and Orodan chose not to tell him about his most uncouth method of introduction to Talricto. The less recalled about that, the better. “And how did you manage to get close without it fleeing?”

“Right, that would be because of my soul, which is different in nature from most,” Orodan said.

“Is that why neither myself nor any of our soul specialists and artifacts have been able to get any reading from it?” Destartes asked.

“Indeed. And that would be because…”

He could feel Zaessythra’s eye roll.

“…I’m in a time loop.”

#

Orodan had forgotten how much of an academic Destartes could be. There was no ulterior motive behind the man, just the simple desire to learn more and expand his horizons while testing the limits of what was possible. It was why the triple-Grandmaster mage traveled between both the Republic and the Empire without facing any real scrutiny from either side.

Once someone got to know the man, they’d quickly learn that his political loyalties weren’t as important as they were to most. And Destartes only cared to advance the understanding of magic.

“And you truly just created a Spatial Fold capable of reaching the moon? Why, we must go on this expedition again! How ridiculous!” Destartes exclaimed. “With power like yours, the bounds of magic and learning can be pushed so much further!”

“To be fair, I’d originally intended on creating a Spatial Fold from the top of the citadel of Novar’s Peak to a distant mountain,” Orodan clarified. “I wasn’t expecting it to sail past that and land upon the moon which happened to be in the way.”

“A most fortunate accident then,” the old wizard remarked with a smile. “But how interesting to know that this Systemless state of yours led to the complete collapse of spatial control at high energy levels. I’d always theorized that something was forcibly helping casters maintain control when great amounts of energy were involved…”

“Your theory is right. The System is a crutch, but how impacted one is by its loss depends on the individual. After all, even with the System, one’s understanding matters. And it’s this understanding which dictates how crippled one will be without the System,” Orodan said. “My understanding of space was passable, but the foundations weren’t as strong as I’d thought. A natural consequence of merely gaining skill levels through rote repetition but not true understanding. Consequently, attempts at high-powered spatiomancy collapsed when I was without my System. On the other hand… my martial talents only grew stronger without the crutch. I was made for fighting, and it showed in how much my insights grew without the System guiding me.”

“Fascinating… I wonder if such a gift could be spread to all,” Destartes said.

“Not by force, and only offered as a free choice,” Orodan added. “But yes, that’s the main goal I have in these time loops. To replace the System with my own.”

Orodan decided not to tell Destartes about the true nature of the System and the Eldritch Boundless One which empowered it. Not until he cleansed all Eldritch from Alastaia at least.

“A lofty goal. Even with how powerful you say you are, can it be done?” Destartes asked.

“Well, who knows? All I’m focused upon for the moment is the work in front of me,” Orodan said as he put the finishing touches on the rifle he was working on. “Whatever grand ambitions I have; getting there will be a step-by-step process.”

They were in an underground center connected to the central fort of Anthus. The central fort was in the middle of the city and the most elevated structure within it. From here, the city and the military’s high command operated. Connected to and adjacent to it though, was this spacious underground center.

It didn’t have an official name, nor was it even publicly acknowledged, but this place was essentially a center for research and development. Almost any military-relevant field that one could think of had a corresponding department in this clandestine place. Karilsgard, the capital, was unsuited for the hosting of such a secretive research center. Too many noble houses and too many stooges of the Cathedral. From what Destartes had said, the Republic, while happily in league with the Prime Five, didn’t want to put all their eggs in one basket. The cutting-edge research in this place was thus kept away from prying outside eyes.

The security they’d passed in order to just reach this point was quite intense. And at times the guards looked incredibly hesitant to allow him past until Destartes vouched for him. Frankly, Orodan was still scratching his head as to how forthcoming the old Grandmaster was once he told the entire story about the time loops.

Well, he supposed his hatred of Gods and Avatars must have made him a natural ally.

Still, within this underground center, they were working within the Department of Artificing specifically. And the woman who was department head had wide eyes as Orodan finished his work. She madly rushed over, and Destartes cancelled the silencing bubble placed over the two of them.

“Excuse me sir, might I see that?” the woman asked. Though, Orodan felt it more of a demand with how desperate and insistent she sounded.

“By all means,” Orodan said, handing it to her. “The rifle’s enchanted, as is the bullet, but they’re no more than basic inscriptions of durability.”

“What strange enchanting language is this?” she asked. “I’ve only dabbled in the field, but this looks three-dimensional, unlike the Imperial tradition and more akin to the runic inscriptions used by the dwarves. Why, this has some esoteric depth to it despite looking oddly like a-”

“Chicken foot?” Orodan finished. “That’s because it’s just chicken scratch. I created this enchanting language by myself. Which… I suppose isn’t much of a language, but a few haphazard symbols which I’ve forced to work via Reality Alteration and stringent will.”

“A… a new enchanting language? And you made it?” the woman asked, stupefied. “Sir… where did you find this man? Who is he?”

“While I too would like the answer to that question,” said a man walking in, dressed in formal military attire. Well, half a man. Orodan would have thought him quite diminutive in stature if he hadn’t met halflings before. “That knowledge seems to be on a need-to-know basis. Lord Orodan Wainwright?”

“I’m not a lord…” Orodan muttered. “Just Orodan will do.”

“I apologize sir, but I could not disrespectfully refer to any peers of Lord Destartes in such a manner,” the halfling military officer said. “Lieutenant-General Tegin Carrotfoot, commander of Anthus, at your service.”

Tegin Carrotfoot? Orodan recalled a young student at Bluefire with the same last name, but more than that, after acquiring an education in that loop he’d read about the name Tegin Carrotfoot. A military general of quite some note.

“Ah, a famed commander. Your tactical genius led the Republic to victory in the Liberation War did it not?” Orodan asked.

The halfling was over a hundred-and-twenty years old, and from the sense of it, was around the Master-level. He didn’t look too wrinkly either. Perhaps the famed halfling diet of multiple breakfasts led to good health?

“And the political machinations of the capital and the cathedral saw him forced to step down over fabricated incidents a few decades after,” Destartes added. “For as much as this nation claims to love all within its borders, the thought of a halfling retaining the rank of general led to some jealousy. And the Prime Five have ever favored humanity over the other mortal races.”

“Of course, lord Destartes was glad to have my talents in his employ. As you can tell, Anthus is rather divorced from the Cathedral, which suits my tastes just fine,” the Lieutenant-General said. “And the rank of Lieutenant-General isn’t as limiting as one thinks when I’m the top-ranking officer in a self-contained city.”

Which made sense. Local power was often superior to power exerted from a distance. Even if an arrogant general from Karilsgard came by, who would the veteran and battle-hardened troops here listen to? A pompous outside general? Or the commander who’d fought alongside them and oversaw the city’s defense against the regular monster swarms? One who wasn’t just reliable for leading Anthus’s defense, but also a famed tactician from the Liberation War a hundred-and-twenty years ago.

The answer was obvious. Within Anthus, Lieutenant-General Tegin was the foremost military authority. With the backing of Destartes and the promise of draconic aid from the Time Wind dragon flight, neither the Cathedral nor any greedy elements of the military based in the capital would dare make any overt moves.

“Not a bad job,” Orodan said. “The regular fighting must keep you and your soldiers sharp.”

“Quite so. It’s partially why we don’t ask any Grandmasters to eliminate vast swarms of the creatures. Doing so would simply deprive my troops of valuable combat experience and skill gains,” the Lieutenant-General explained. “That being said, there are many points of interest and strategic locations within the immediate area of the outskirts and further beyond the walls which we’ve wanted to reach. The constant pressure upon the walls prevents us from doing so. Lord Wainwright, I must say that this rifle of yours may help us make inroads in these ventures.”

“It’s hardly revolutionary,” Orodan professed. “The dwarves have magical rifles too.”

“Correct, but the ones we’ve ‘borrowed’ for study and research all point to it being a laborious and expensive process,” the commander remarked. “With how quickly you made that, I wonder how many you could create if given ample time, materials and an entire city aiding in your production?”

“In a day? Perhaps hundreds, mayhap over a thousand,” Orodan answered. And that was without the usage of Time Compression to hasten himself and the crafting process. “I work better alone though.”

Frankly, Orodan wasn’t even sure what it would look like if an entire city was working to help in his crafting efforts. Would little delivery folk run to and from, passing materials off at a constant rate? Or perhaps multiple crafters would take his orders and fall under his guidance?

It all sounded like a big mess which he neither wanted nor needed to be a part of.

“Sir… such an endeavor will necessitate putting many of our current research and development projects on hold,” the department head for Artificing spoke. “Particularly for something of this scale.”

“Hmm, tell you what. Pick up that rifle, will you?” the Lieutenant-General requested, and the woman complied. “Now fire upon that target in the range.”

The range was across the room; however nobody was actively testing anything there at this time thus it was safe. The woman took aim, braced, and pulled the trigger.

The roar of a primed bullet exploding out the barrel filled the room, and while the shooter couldn’t see it, Orodan, the Lieutenant-General and Destartes could. The shot tore right through the target and carried on, smashing a decent dent into the reinforced wall behind it meant specifically for impact absorption.

“By the seven hells… it tore the Adept-target apart!” she exclaimed. “And-and… the wall, it has a dent! That’s supposed to remain unscratched even by Elite-level attacks!”

Was the wall that tough? Perhaps Orodan had underestimated just how strong his rifle was? No, that didn’t sound quite correct. He knew exactly how powerful his rifles were.

Then, the thought came to Orodan; that he’d forgotten to account for how an individual’s own skills could affect and empower the weapon even further. He looked at the Lieutenant-General under a new light. Perhaps the man had used a skill to push it even further.

“Would you now agree that the suspension of current projects for this one is cost-effective?” the commander asked, prompting the department head to nod. “With that settled, Lord Wainwright, please tell us the price of your services. Whatever gold or materials you require, Anthus shall provide. If Lord Destartes has allowed you within, then you have my trust. The army of the Republic does not treat its beneficiaries poorly.”

“For starters, I’m no noble, I’m not Lord Wainwright. Just Orodan will do.”

“Though the impropriety of it pains me, if that is your wish it shall be so… Mister Wainwright.”

Orodan sighed. Good enough.

“Second, I seek not gold or riches, but knowledge and the freedom to practice my crafts,” Orodan said. “To that end, room for my experiments, and some time learning the magical crafts with Destartes would be appreciated.”

Indeed, that part he and Destartes had already made arrangements for during their conversation about the time loops. Letting the commander of the city know was but a formality.

“More than acceptable terms,” Destartes replied. “If anything, I feel we’d be taking advantage of you as this deal disproportionately favors us. Are you sure there’s nothing else we can give you?”

“I’m sure,” Orodan affirmed.

“Very well. We’ll get the particulars sorted out then,” the Lieutenant-General said. “Do you think you’ll be ready to start by next week? I don’t want to push you, but the suspension of some current research projects must be justified through expedited production of these weapons. The stingy fools on the Council will happily slash the budget otherwise.”

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“Next week?” Orodan asked, confused. “I plan on starting now. This Department’s a decent spot for it too, get me as much iron ore, sulphur, charcoal and saltpetre as you can find. Let’s get to work.”

“But… my department…” the poor department head muttered. And Destartes merely laughed while the commander got to work giving orders via communications amulet for the logistics to be handled.

In truth, even Orodan himself was interested in seeing how his weapons fared when put to the test in live combat conditions.

#

Orodan respected the halfling commander.

Lieutenant-General Tegin Carrotfoot was polite when necessary, during diplomacy and negotiations, but an efficient and no-nonsense leader while commanding. He must have had some higher-rarity derivative of Logistics, for the way people moved about and functioned like a well-oiled machine during the production process was nothing short of fascinating.

Orodan had fought armies on Alastaia before. Particularly, the Novarrian military. However, at the time, the Empire had brought only Masters and Grandmasters to the field against him. This commander though, moved his soldiers and personnel around in a manner he’d never seen before.

It had been a ridiculous sight, watching hundreds of people enter a room clearly not made to accommodate so many, and yet not a single person had stumbled, tripped or walked into the path of another. Orodan would have suspected mind magic if he hadn’t verified it himself through his Domain.

It was some manner of soul-based command and social skill. If the Novarrians had a commander of Tegin’s caliber on their side in his first few fights against them, it would have taken him far longer to win. A reminder that prodigies in certain fields could come from anywhere, even a cosmically insignificant world such as Alastaia.

In tandem with the commander’s leadership, the full day of production had passed. Laborers brought him iron ore in an uninterrupted stream, others brought him the ingredients for black powder, and as Orodan finished each bit of production, multiple people seamlessly worked together to handle all the ancillary tasks, such as storing, bringing new containers and even attempting to replace Orodan’s tools and offer him refreshments.

Frankly, Orodan felt quite stifled and slightly irritated as these folk practically smothered him in their attempts to tend to his every need, but he didn’t begrudge them doing their jobs. He’d refused certain things, such as the attempts to replace his tools or providing him food and water, neither of which he needed any longer. But he had to grudgingly admit; since the loss of his Action Increases crafting was slower. And this manner of synchronized help under the guidance of a powerful command skill was undeniably effective.

He’d suspended the demands of his Combat Transcendence for now, though promised it that he would engage in proper training later. The rifles needed to be uniform, and the demands for ‘real challenge’ that each of his skills made could lead to some… peculiar products which were best experimented with later.

The results spoke for themselves. Less than twenty-four hours, and he’d gained numerous levels in Gunsmithing and some in Enchanting, Artificing and Engineering. And the fruits of his labor, a neat array of twelve-hundred black powder rifles, with assorted ammunition.

Each rifle had cartridges designed in a manner most efficient for usage by soldiers in the midst of combat. The bullet was neatly packed alongside the powder, and even an untrained user of the rifle could eventually figure out how to tear it open load the powder and fire the shot. Again, Orodan had to admit that by himself he wouldn’t have been able to make the packaging for the cartridges so well while also maintaining his pace of production.

“Alright,” Orodan said. “You’ve taken me for a loop. I must admit to being impressed.”

The city commander let out an absurd laugh, one full of disbelief.

“Mister Wainwright, you’ve handcrafted twelve-hundred rifles in under a day without stopping to rest or recharge mana or soul energy in any way. In comparison, my skills of command are but a parlor trick,” Tegin said. “Lord Destartes, you did not tell me he was a dragon in human form.”

“I wasn’t expecting a guest at Anthus today either,” the old wizard Grandmaster said. “That being said, I believe the energy comes from his soul, does it not?”

“Right. The soul can be forcibly driven, squeezed to produce more energy,” Orodan said. “If I recall, there are historical records of people churning the soul in a devastating and fatal attack which causes a soul explosion.”

“And yet… you haven’t exploded in the slightest,” the halfling said.

“With will and discipline, one can tolerate the pain enough that the soul can be commanded to retain its integrity, even under extreme duress,” Orodan explained.

“You tell me something that is quite difficult to accept,” the commander said. “Mainly because the sheer pain and mental anguish involved in such a thing would cause even the mind of a Grandmaster of mental magic to shatter. Particularly if that’s the only method you utilized to provide power enough for the making of this many rifles.”

Orodan simply smiled.

“Pain is but the first and smallest price one must pay to achieve true strength.”

“Now then, we can shelve this discussion on the particulars of Mister Wainwright’s soul for later,” Destartes said. “The auxiliary corps has been training for the usage of these things for a while now, have they not? Shall we go test them?”

“Auxiliary corps?” Orodan asked. “Training in the usage of guns? I wasn’t aware the Republic or the Empire used any black powder firearms on the ground.”

“We do not,” the commander admitted. “But that does not stop us from training a corps in their usage for the hypothetical day when we either make a technological breakthrough, or manage to steal the blueprints for a mass producable rifle which packs sufficient power. You didn’t think we came up with that design for the cartridge and its packaging on the spot did you?”

“So, you have a group of soldiers ready to go. Not bad.”

At the very least, one couldn’t say the Republic’s military was a bunch of ill-trained rabble. Research and development of new military relevant fields pointed to their funding, as did their overall readiness to adopt a new technology when it became feasible. From what Orodan had seen on the walls of Anthus, these were some well-trained men and women.

In truth, Orodan wouldn’t say guns were the future of warfare. At low levels, perhaps, but not once Masters and Grandmasters began entering the equation.

After all, at a high enough level, a powerful bullet was no different to a mighty sword swing. If anything, the blade scaled far better off of more factors, such as the wielder’s strength, the body’s durability to absorbing the shock of their own strike, their finesse and any energy manipulation abilities they had. In contrast, a bullet couldn’t really draw from its deliverer’s strength or durability the same way; not easily anyways. Consequently, at the Grandmaster-level and up, Orodan would say an equivalent-level archer or javelineer would hit far harder than a firearms specialist. Although the first strike seemed to naturally favor a gun.

Which way a fight would go squarely depended on the individual, not the weapon.

“Indeed, I’m certain they’ll be eager to test out what you’ve made,” the Lieutenant-General said as they began walking outside. “I’m sure that the watchful little whisperers about town have noticed the central fort’s laborers mobilizing to this extent. Though, they know not what you’ve made.”

“Little whisperers? Spies you mean?” Orodan asked, and the commander nodded. “Wasn’t aware Anthus had spies. City seems a bit… well-guarded for that.”

“Ah, I assure you Mister Wainwright, spies and observers are everywhere, in every city, no matter how impressive their battlements or how colorful the plumes on their honor regiments,” the halfling said. “The Novarrian Intelligence Service and their agents are always looking to make inroads as to our developments, as are the elves of Eldiron. Being built around an energy well, Anthus was a valuable city of the Empire’s, founded and defended at great expense. And this center for research and development was a critical one. Losing it during the Liberation War wasn’t an easy thing to stomach.”

“Understandable. They must have plenty of observers within the city then?” Orodan asked. “I can see a few good spots for them already.”

The two of them led the procession of laborers and staff carrying the rifles outside. Here, the procession was in view of any civilians walking the streets. And already Orodan could see a tavern in the distance whose windows had a nice view of the entrance to the central fort.

“Quite so. That old man watering his plants on the third floor of the tavern’s a spy,” the Lieutenant-General said, causing Orodan to gape like a fish. The man looked rather innocuous to Orodan. “As is that woman drying clothes atop the roof of that house over there.”

“You’re rather casual about this…” Orodan muttered.

“But of course. Those two know that I’m aware of their spy status,” the Lieutenant-General said. “The old man’s a spy for House Arslan, from the capital. And the woman’s an agent for the Novarrian Intelligence Service. The common factor for both is that they’re dissatisfied with their current employers and have chosen to remain in the hopes that I’ll make a counter-offer to use them as double agents.”

“But you haven’t yet?”

“They can come to me. The old man’s going to break soon, I can tell. The woman though, still holds on to some obstinate Novarrian loyalties,” the halfling said. “Perhaps she’ll beg me to smuggle her family out of Novar’s Peak or something along those lines in exchange. Doable, but the length of service I’ll expect in exchange will be a lengthy one. Aside from these two, there are plenty more I know of, even nearby, but best not to tell lest your eyes be drawn to them and they suspect I know.”

“And… you don’t just have them thrown into the cells?” Orodan asked, dumbfounded.

“Why do that and deprive myself of the entertainment? The poor fools don’t even know that I have operatives of my own shadowing them, monitoring and recording their every move. Better to build up the file of information we have on them while they’re unaware. Makes blackmailing them far easier when we choose to reveal our hand,” the commander said. “Besides, the spies are all in unimportant positions. Merchants, civilian laborers and visitors. All of whom are carefully monitored and kept in unimportant parts of the city while their interactions are watched.”

Indeed. The laborers who’d helped Orodan during his gunsmithing weren’t civilians, but non-combatant military personnel. They’d undergone stringent background checks and their entry or departure from the central fort of Anthus was closely monitored. Hells, one could say that members of the army - particularly those within the central fort - were under closer scrutiny than any foreign spies were.

And while Orodan could see them easily enough with Vision of Purity, he wasn’t sure if any of the foreign spies could. Shadowy mages under invisibility spells stalked the rooftops, alleyways and key vantage points. From there, they kept an eye on any activity within Anthus and monitored the foreign spies too.

“Though, I’m sure the Lieutenant-General’s shadows will have a harder time of it if Mister Wainwright so obviously glances at them,” Destartes spoke up. “They are under an invisibility cloak after all.”

He hadn’t even been obvious!

“You most certainly were,” Zaessythra chimed in. “Subtlety is beyond you.”

Truly, the realm of spies and skullduggery wasn’t meant for him.

“Ugh… this game of tricks and schemes is outside my realm of expertise,” Orodan admitted.

“You would be surprised, Mister Wainwright, but even just coming from a certain background may give one an advantage in catching the tricks and schemes of others,” the halfling said. “Anthus, like Arkwall and any city built around an energy well, doesn’t really have a standard civilian populace the way any regular town or city of the Republic does. There are no children playing in the streets, aside from the rare person of importance, there are no leisurely vacationers or tourists just stopping by. Everyone here is in some way, useful to the city. Choosing to remain here by contract or because the pay is quite generous. And now that we’ve come by the civilian laborer district… perhaps your eye can prove useful.”

Would it? Orodan wasn’t so sure of that himself. All he saw were regular laborers. Well, not quite so regular since they were all at least Apprentice-level and here because of a certain level of competence. But regular all the same.

These weren’t the impoverished and struggling laborers of Ogdenborough, but contractors who came to Anthus of their own volition to sell and improve upon their skills. They looked decently dressed, clean and focused. Nothing was out of the ordinary, so Orodan wasn’t sure what the Lieutenant-General expected of him in that regard. He wasn’t about to delve into everyone’s minds just to find any potential spies.

A stonecutter was putting some muscle into her work, a laborer was lifting a rock above their head, and a woodworker was properly sculpting a wooden support beam upon a table. Though, Orodan wondered why the beam was on the table at all. The man clearly wasn’t struggling with the weight of it, and standard practice dictated working on beams while they were upright.

Come to think of it, where was the construction site? There was no blueprint or measurement for the beam on the table. And now that he thought about it, the man’s hands looked a bit uncertain on that saw. What Woodworker would just sculpt a support beam with no construction project in site, right next to the road?

Orodan looked at him. The man looked at Orodan.

And he ran…

…right into a waiting agent of the Republic, who suddenly uncloaked themselves from invisibility.

“Though, next time you could be a little more discrete with how obvious your staring was,” Destartes said as the man was slammed onto the ground by the agent.

“More than satisfactory for someone who claims to be unsuited to this sort of scheming,” Tegin said. “As I said, coming from a certain background might give you an advantage. I was told you were from Ogdenborough but wasn’t aware you were a Woodworker too.”

“I quite enjoy sculpting things from wood,” Orodan answered and then looked to Destartes. “How much did you tell him?”

“Most of it. Tegin is an invaluable member of the Republic and one of my brightest students and most trusted confidants. I hope you do not mind,” Destartes said. “I apologize if-”

“Apologize?” Orodan asked with a smile. “No need. All the better than me having to narrate my tale for the twelfth time.”

“Er… right,” Destartes muttered. “In any case, once we’ve tested the weapons, we have a small matter we’d like to discuss with you in private.”

“Fair enough.”

The rest of the walk to the walls was uneventful enough. Merchants, laborers and craftsfolk who saw the procession gaped. Even the watchers and guards patrolling the streets seemed curious. Guns weren’t a novel concept, not since they’d been popularized by the Empire of Novarria’s failed experiment in fielding them.

As a result though, the prevailing opinion on them was that they were useless. And any martial Adept worth their salt would slaughter an untrained gunfighter. Truthfully, Orodan still felt a bit biased towards the martial path himself, but even without it, felt the dismissal of firearms in popular society to be a little short-sighted. Even as an assassination tool, a black powder rifle could kill a frail mage with a well-placed shot.

“Assuming they’re by themselves, have no enchanted items which provide shielding, have no detection abilities which sense the shooter ahead of time and of course… can’t be reached by a healer, chronomancer or soul specialist in time,” Zaessythra added.

He supposed she had a point there. Mages had plenty of options to protect themselves against a gun-armed assassin. Only a mage poor in caution, wealth or allies would find themselves easily assassinated.

Though today, he planned on changing the common opinion on guns.

They stopped in front of a medium-sized barracks near the walls. The sentry up front immediately saluting and informing the duty-sergeant. Soon, the company was assembled.

Hardy and dour-faced men and women. If the average soldier of Anthus was a battle-tested veteran by the standards of the Republic’s military, then these troops were a cut above even them. From each of them, Orodan got the sense that they were true soldiers, ready to charge into battle at a moment’s notice.

“Sixth Company,” the Lieutenant-General said. His voice calm but possessing a commanding weight to it.

The troops immediately stood at attention and saluted.

“Sir!” the company sergeant responded. “At your command, General!”

“You know it’s Lieutenant-General now, right?” Tegin gently chided, though there was no heat in the correction at all. And the sergeant himself seemed unwilling to comply either. To these soldiers, they must have been loyal to the point that they were unwilling to accept their commander’s demotion. “Sergeant Rehanaj, are your men ready to perform a demonstration?”

“Yes sir! The Sixth Company stands ready!” the sergeant zealously replied.

“Good. We’ve produced a new type of black powder rifle. The Sixth Company is trained and competent in the operation of unconventional weapons, are they not? I’d like your troops to give these rifles a try,” the halfling commander said. “Consider the dusk-time operation into the depths near the blood marsh cancelled. Take up position on the western wall and fire upon the monster swarms. I’m aware that prior trial runs of black powder and magical rifles have gone poorly, but this one might surprise you.”

The sergeant bellowed his orders, and the troops immediately scrambled to retrieve the rifles from the procession of laborers and carriers.

Having people manually carry the rifles was a bit wasteful. A spatial ring would have sufficed just fine. But Orodan figured this was meant to be as much a show as it was a demonstration.

The walls of Anthus were under near constant siege by monster swarms. But defense duty wasn’t so bad. In fact, from what Orodan had heard, the last casualty on defensive duty was seven months ago and that was when a grieving soldier whose adventurer son had died decided to leap into the swarm and fight to the death. The tragic situation of that death aside, defensive duty on the walls was rather safe, if still intense. It was the first taste of battle that new recruits sent to Anthus got.

The walls worked as a natural defensive barrier. Ground-based monsters had to surmount it, and often the defenders would allow a few choice ones up just so that the recruits could get some battle experience. At worst, the new soldiers would be fighting one monster at a time in melee, and the majority of a new recruit’s first few battles were spent assisting with aerial defense duty and manning the emplaced defensive weapons on the walls. In truth, the walls and the crew upon them comfortably held against the monster assaults despite greatly holding back most of their arsenal and higher-level soldiers.

The Sixth Company though, did the far deadlier and casualty-prone work of venturing outside the walls. Which was why the soldiers looked on curiously as this veteran company marched onto the western wall.

Orodan and Destartes followed the company and the Lieutenant-General of Anthus out to the western wall. There, he also saw that vaguely familiar woman once more.

Perhaps it wasn’t that he knew her, but that he knew someone who looked very similar to her? In any case, he didn’t seem to like whoever she was similar to.

He held his unfair judgements as the soldiers dutifully took position, rifles in hand. The on-duty troops on the western wall who were already fending off the monster swarm, looked a bit surprised at the Sixth Company’s appearance, but took it in stride and carried on with their fighting as artillery, war machines and mages kept blasting away.

“They’re good men and women,” Orodan remarked.

“The best. They’re often called upon for ventures outside the walls, whether it be for striking a pre-emptive blow against a forming monster horde, or securing a valuable resource,” the halfling replied. “Most of these soldiers fought with me during the Liberation War. And while they’re mere Adepts and I have dedicated units of Elites and Masters already; nothing quite matches up to the reliability of the veteran men and women who bled alongside me in that bloody war. The Sixth Company are my go-to whenever I need something done.”

Orodan believed it too. Perhaps some of these soldiers weren’t as talented as a cream of the crop student from Bluefire, but he had no doubt that they were far more experienced, determined and ruthless in combat. It wouldn’t surprise him if a few of the soldiers in this unit could jump a tier to fight Elites too.

“We await your command, General,” the sergeant said. “Rifles loaded.”

“Fire.”

The command was a quiet one, but the halfling’s voice managed to somehow carry throughout.

The sounds and clashes of battle were drowned out by the sheer roar of two hundred rifles letting loose at once.

The monsters were packed into a swarm at the bottom of the walls, and they were attempting to gradually scale it. It was this dense packing of targets that the troops fired into. With terrific success.

Like cheap plaster falling off a dilapidated wall, the swarm at that particular spot simply fell right off the west wall. The ones climbing, the ones at the bottom, those attempting to lift other monsters up with them. For a moment, a fine mist of blood was present at that spot, and then the bodily bits of the swarm scattered about.

“Hmm… the over-penetration is quite useful against larger formations it seems,” Orodan said.

Indeed. Not all monsters in the swarm were Adepts. If anything, they were on the rarer end of the spectrum. Most of the swarm consisted of Apprentice-level creatures, and a singular bullet could rip through many, killing multiple. Orodan could already see the disincentivizing of horde tactics against black powder armed militaries.

The regular soldiers on the walls looked on in shock at the sight. Hells, even some members of the Sixth Company looked down closely at their rifles which had displayed such killing power.

The swarm itself had its mob mentality broken for a moment, the shock and awe of being on the receiving end of gunfire turned them from cogs in a swarm, to individuals once more. A horde had power when the vulnerability of its members was masked, not easily apparent. They had to feel invincible, even if it wasn’t true. And such a barrage of lethal gunfire which mowed down many at once broke that illusion.

“Continue firing,” Tegin Carrotfoot ordered.

The guns of the Sixth Company blazed away, and the monsters assailing the western wall began to suffer grievous casualties. Though Orodan noted that the rifles had a bit more trouble and reduced success against the many flocks of aerial creatures. He made a mental note to create some manner of spreadshot ammunition like the defensive ballistae on the wall had.

Still, the veteran troops, well-trained in the aiming, firing and reloading of these weapons, had a decent rate of output, letting loose a round every two seconds. They skillfully and ferociously ripped a cartridge apart, primed the pan and practically flung the remaining powder and bullet down the barrel with two fingers and raw might. These were veteran soldiers, all at the Adept-level with good Physical Fitness which meant they normally fought at a pace where they could deliver numerous attacks in a single second.

Orodan estimated that an untrained civilian would have a firing rate of a round every fifteen or twenty seconds perhaps.

“If anything, using these soldiers as gunfighters is quite the waste…” Orodan muttered. “Not to say that the guns aren’t useful, but when these veteran Adepts can launch many attacks a second, having them slowed down with a weapon firing only a single bullet every two seconds is a bit inefficient, is it not?”

“In a sense, you speak true, Mister Wainwright,” the Lieutenant-General said. “However, consider that the addition of these rifles to a veteran group such as the Sixth Company is an amplification of their combat ability. Previously, only the mages and dedicated ranged troops of the company could contribute to battles at range. But now… when even the shield-bearers up front have an option for inflicting death upon the foe, the overall effectiveness of the unit is increased.”

“Though I’ve been on many battlefields, I’m no commander I admit,” Orodan said. “Your way of considering these potential tactics is beyond my own.”

Orodan was better suited to being on the front line, engaging the foe, than hypothesizing about tactical arrangements.

“Perhaps, but your ability in war and gunsmithing is beyond mine,” the halfling said. “Now then, I see we’ve inflicted grievous enough damage upon the swarm that one of the leaders has decided to make its presence known.”

The ground a hundred metres from the walls erupted, and a house-sized minotaur emerged, wielding a fierce double-bladed axe.

“Horde leader!”

“Elite! Elite spotted on the field!”

“Signal’s been sent for members of the Elite response unit sir!”

The regular soldiers clamored at the sight of the house-sized minotaur. The status quo of the swarm assailing the walls was something not only tolerated by the military of Anthus, but also the more powerful monsters who subtly directed the horde from behind. These opportunistic horde leaders took command of the monster swarms through brute force and cunning, and their goal was simple… to direct the swarm that they might get a chance to dive into the energy well.

Elite-level monsters usually only appeared a few times a month, but when they did, it meant a fierce attempt at getting past the walls and into the well.

“Culric,” the Lieutenant-General said, directly addressing one of the rank-and-file soldiers of the Sixth Company. “Try enhancing your shot and firing upon it.”

“Yes General! But… will the rifle hold, sir?” the man asked.

“More than adequately,” Orodan answered. “I’ve made them to be capable of absorbing far more blowback than the standard shot can provide.”

The soldier, a pyromancer, got to work. Orodan hadn’t even considered that someone with existing skills in pyromancy or a related field could possibly make the powder burn and explode even hotter. And as spiraling orange flames began circulating around this soldier’s body, the bellow of a far louder gunshot tore through the air.

The result was impressive.

The Elite minotaur hadn’t really expected the assassination attempt right away; not from an Adept-level soldier on the walls. Its guard was naturally down, and the bullet managed to land flush upon its chest.

A guttural groan of pain erupted, and the creature was sent flying backwards, smashing into and killing dozens of weaker members of the swarm. It lived still, but a deep and grievous wound had been inflicted upon its chest.

“Fire! Fire!” the Sixth Company sergeant bellowed.

Two-hundred rifles roared to life and fired in the direction of the horde leader. It was a large target; however a weakness of the guns quickly became apparent.

“It dodged!”

“Damn! It blocked and deflected the shots!”

The minotaur wasn’t a mindless creature, it had a passable understanding of combat and how to maneuver its body and weapon. And being an Elite meant it was faster than the bullets too.

It seemed this was the current limit of Orodan’s rifles.

“Well, an excellent weapons test if I say so myself,” Destartes said.

“Excuse me,” a feminine voice called out. “Are you the creator of these weapons?”

“My lady… that man is in the company of the Lieutenant-General and Lord Destartes!” her attending handmaid warned.

The woman ignored her handmaid and continued onwards boldly. Orodan wasn’t sure why he had an innate dislike of her face; it was more than a bit unfair to be honest.

“I am,” Orodan answered. “What of it?”

“Lady Surena, good of you to join us, how’s your father doing?” Tegin asked.

“He is… doing as he usually does. Sending me away to the far reaches of the Republic that he might have little to do with me,” the woman resentfully answered. Her handmaid paled at her blunt words, but Orodan thought her straightforward at least. “You, sir… might I have your name?”

“Orodan Wainwright.”

“Mister Wainwright, these weapons you’ve created, are they for sale? My house would much like to acquire such things and are more than willing to pay,” she stated.

“My current buyer is the Republic military, the Lieutenant-General here being my point of contact,” Orodan answered. “For now, my hands are full creating these weapons for him.”

“Please Mister Wainwright, I beseech-”

“That will be enough for now Lady Surena. I haven’t spoken to Viglas in many years, but we share similar sentiments on some things. So I assure you that I shall send him a message and ensure that his house receives a share of these weapons. I shall even credit you with securing the deal,” the Lieutenant-General said. “Mister Wainwright is a man with quite the busy schedule. I am afraid we must go for now.”

Viglas? Orodan frowned.

“Your father, who is he?” Orodan asked, though he had a suspicion he knew the answer already.

“Why, my father is Baron Viglas Argon,” the woman said, proffering a hand. “And I am Surena Argon, second-in-line to the house.”

“That explains the dislike.”

“Come now Orodan. Judging a young girl by the sins of her family is rather unfair don’t you-”

Orodan took the proffered hand, shaking it.

“Your father and brother are traitors to the Republic, but you seem alright enough.”

He could hear Zaessythra’s sigh.

The nearby soldiers, particularly those of the Sixth Company, froze. the Lieutenant-General looked quite wary and the poor girl herself appeared mortified. All while Destartes simply had an amused look on his face.

“M-mister Wainwright… there are things we must tell you first,” Tegin stuttered.

“Remember that meeting we were telling you about?” Destartes asked, and Orodan nodded. “Now’s a good time for it I believe.”

#

A gigantic map of Alastaia and all its known lands was sprawled out over the table. Numerous military pieces, key figurines and strategic points were placed over various spots.

Within the central fort of Anthus, this was the war room, where the Lieutenant-General and all military officers who were part of the command structure operated from. And currently it was almost entirely empty, the doors barred, and the windows sealed.

The only three people inside were Orodan, Destartes and Lieutenant-General Tegin Carrotfoot.

And as a glowing hand waved, spilling forth mana into the air, the final privacy spell was cast by Destartes.

“The elves’ psionic web isn’t reaching inside of here any longer,” Orodan said.

“To think Eldiron’s intelligence network was so robust and capable…” Tegin muttered. “For how long have they had a psionic web spanning the Republic?”

“Who knows? They’ve always panicked quite a bit whenever I’ve shattered the web. Sends them and their shadows running every time,” Orodan said.

“In fact, it’s a good thing you haven’t done so in this loop, Mister Wainwright,” Destartes said. “The elves’ seeming ignorance is a good thing. Novarria or the Prime Five might notice if the elves suddenly retreat off of Inuan entirely. While Eldiron is no direct foe of ours, any overt moves from them will certainly be noticed and make our plans more complicated as the Republic and the Prime Five respond to them.”

“Your plans? And why would the Republic and the Prime Five’s response be of concern to you?” Orodan asked.

“That, is why we’ve asked you here. That we might explain what our true goals are,” the Lieutenant-General said. “Mister Wainwright… Lord Destartes has told me much about your true nature, about the time loops, and what you’ve done during them. I feel confident in saying that we could well be aligned in our goals entirely.”

“And your goals are?”

“The elimination of all Gods from the Republic. A military coup which will see many noble houses of the council ousted, and control returned to those who should be governing the Republic,” Tegin said. “Its people.”

Orodan remained silent for a moment as he took it in.

“Getting roped into a conspiracy to perform a military coup. Never a dull moment with you.”

It certainly explained why Anthus took its privacy and military so seriously. It was the largest military base in all the Republic, and with that, came power enough to launch a coup. Combine that with an unfairly demoted former General who commanded the loyalty of the troops, and a solid core of battle-hardened soldiers…

…it all began to make sense.

And Orodan didn’t even think it was a bad idea either.

“In return, we’re willing to provide you whatever benefits you could want. Full access to the resources, knowledge, military and infrastructure of the Republic. Political connections with the Eastern Kingdoms, and any artifacts from the vaults of Karilsgard. I am prepared to grovel and beseech you for aid as many times as-”

“Alright, when do we start?”

The grandmaster wizard burst out laughing in response.

“And I’ll… wait… you agree to help?” the halfling asked, shocked.

“Why not? I have some conditions, but I agree to getting rid of Agathor, Eximus and Ilyatana at the very least,” Orodan said. “As long as Halor and Malzim are left unharmed, and no uninvolved parties are harmed during this coup, I’m all for it.”

He had no doubt that his slaying of the tyrant three destabilized the Republic each time. Instead, what if he worked with a force capable of maintaining control and ensuring a safe and peaceful transition? Hells, he might not even need to kill the three enemy Gods. He could simply purge their influence from the Republic and install this new government that would be actively hostile to them.

“And finally work on quelling your murderous vendetta which isn’t satisfied despite the dozens of times you’ve slain those three?” Zaessythra asked.

“Hmmph… maybe.”

“Heh… what did I tell you Tegin? When I heard him mention just how many times he slew those three, I knew then and there that Mister Wainwright would agree,” Destartes said. “Let me assure you then, Halor and Malzim will be left alone. And we shall leave any civilians unharmed.”

“No bloodshed of the uninvolved altogether,” Orodan said. “There is no need to wage a pitched battle against loyalist or Cathedral forces. They’re just lackeys ready to die upon the order of their masters.”

“With your aid, that should be possible,” Destartes said.

It was official. Orodan was a traitor.

Well, technically he’d been a traitor each and every time he slew the three tyrant Gods and caused the mass loss of their Blessings across the Republic. But this time his membership in a military coup was formal and set in stone.

“How do you plan to go about this?” Orodan asked. “A straightforward assault upon Karilsgard? Target the Council and the Cathedral?”

“There’s more to it than just that. My time in the military has given me a web of allies, sympathizers and friends I can call upon to accept the transition. While they might not help, at the very least they will accept any transition of government without a fight,” the Lieutenant-General said. “The problem though, will be the cities and forts who are rather vehemently loyalist, or have leadership with strong ties to the Cathedral. But, with you on our side, we can devote far more resources and manpower to dealing with those holdouts. The key then, as you’ve said, will be Karilsgard.”

“Which I’m happy to handle. The Avatars and loyalist council members are dealt with easily enough,” Orodan said. “But I’m somewhat confused. I never heard of this conspiracy in any of my prior loops.”

“It’s not so surprising. You know of the eldritch comet’s descent; you’ve fought it enough times in your loops. It’s the descent of that thing which bade us to stay our hands until after it was dealt with,” Destartes said. “If the Republic emerged intact, the plan was for us to then wage this coup with the dragons providing assistance. But now, with you here and your assurance that the Eldritch Avatar can be dealt with… we feel prepared to push our plans forward. The sudden loss of the Blessings and Avatars of two Gods will be keenly felt and Novarria will undoubtedly try to take advantage, but you and our dragon allies serve as a safety buffer against that.”

“The Time Wind are in on this too?” Orodan asked. “Then again, I suppose the dragons have always had a particular hatred for Ilyatana. The Gods in league with her must not be well-viewed by proxy either.”

“Correct. The Sapphire Gale dragon flight also stand ready to provide support in the form of blocking any interference attempts from the branches of the Cathedral in the Eastern Kingdoms,” Destartes said. “And it could be said that we have a few people on the inside willing to help us. However, I will not name them until the day lest we risk discovery.”

Fair enough.

“Though, the dragon in the room remains… House Argon. You knew about their activities in Ogdenborough, didn’t you?” Orodan asked in a pointed manner.

“I will not lie to you, Mister Wainwright. Yes, House Argon is… or I should say was part of our planned coup. News of the sudden de-powering of that ancient machine beneath Mount Castarian has reached my ears. Your doing no doubt?” Tegin asked and Orodan nodded. “Well, I suppose that’s a better outcome than the loyalists and their Cathedral lackeys getting their hands on it.”

“You and your conspiracy were responsible for House Argon’s treachery then?” Orodan asked.

“I ask that you judge it a little less harshly, Mister Wainwright. After all, you are now part of this planned revolution too,” Destartes said. “It was never our intention to have House Argon work alongside Novarria or Guzuharan raiders. Matter of fact, Baron Viglas operated mostly on his own and chose his own alliance. The only directive we had for him was to prevent the Republic from securing the machine, as that would mean it falling into the Cathedral’s hands.”

“That’s not the point. I care little for any loyalty to whichever power controls the Republic,” Orodan clarified. “What matters is how House Argon and the Novarrians were poised to use that machine to destroy most of Volarbury County and my hometown with it.”

“I apologize, Mister Wainwright, but surely you’ve seen much death and suffering in the time loops, have you not?” Destartes asked. “It’s truly regrettable that-”

“Old man, you’re an academic who reads books and performs experiments. Your years as a Grandmaster have desensitized you to the loss of life,” Orodan said. “There’s no gain in slaughtering defenseless innocents. No matter how much death and suffering I’ve experienced it doesn’t change the fact that uninvolved civilians were massacred many times over due to the actions of House Argon.”

“While you’re not wrong and I won’t claim it was necessary, such is the way of war, Orodan. You who’ve been in more battles than any of us should understand,” Destartes said. “I do not support it, but from what you told me of your first few loops, House Argon did manage to prevent the Cathedral from getting hold of the machine. Which, even if it led to the destruction of Volarbury County… I consider it a tactical success all the same.”

The young Orodan would have taken great offense to this statement, the hot-blooded and inexperienced time looper that he was. Yet now, even though the words of tolerance for such wanton slaughter still irked him… he realized that Destartes wasn’t condoning the slaughter itself but saying that at least the Cathedral hadn’t acquired the machine.

“Regardless of how close the destruction of Volarbury County is to my heart; I won’t dispute that the overall result worked in your favor. But to ally with House Argon, while a tactically sound decision… isn’t one that pleases me,” Orodan admitted. “While it’s not a philosophy I’ll ever adhere to, I suppose I can see the necessity of allying with scum for the sake of a greater goal.”

“Certainly, I will not claim to like Baron Viglas. Matter of fact, I’ve always thought that man and his son to be overly power-hungry and of poor character,” the Lieutenant-General said. “And if you wish it, Mister Wainwright, you may go ahead and slay the man in every loop of yours. Though all I ask in turn is that the machine be de-powered and prevented from entering the hands of the loyalists.”

“Hmmph… in any case, we’ve gotten off topic. Karilsgard is the target then?” Orodan asked.

“Indeed. We have a list of priority targets for you to strike against within the capital, chiefly the three Chosen,” Tegin Carrotfoot said. “Although, them aside, there are also a few Favored, Blessed and council leaders of note that will need to be subdued.”

“And I must stress on the subdued part. Your… ‘Celestial’ skill. Though I’ve never heard of such a rarity, you told me that you can cleanse Blessings directly from the soul? If so, we will be relying upon it very much,” Destartes said. “Having the revolution be a bloody one will only reduce our legitimacy. In an ideal world, we march in, subdue everyone non-lethally and hold a new set of non-fixed elections to reform the council. From there we simply continue on as the Republic of Aden.”

“Of course the elections are fixed too…” Orodan muttered. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Unfortunately so. Did it never occur to you why over three-fifths of the council are nobility? And the other two-fifths are either lackeys for them in secret or on their payroll,” the Lieutenant-General said. “There will be some upheaval, but we’re well poised to handle the fallout.”

“It seems you’ve planned for this eventuality well,” Orodan said.

Without having to worry about the descent of the Eldritch Avatar the world would move on. Nations, the internal factions within them, and the people leading them would naturally plot, scheme and plan on dealing with enemies, old and new. Orodan wasn’t a politician, but even he could see now that the dragons’ grudge against Ilyatana wasn’t something they would stomach forever. And Tegin Carrotfoot wasn’t satisfied with remaining under the heel of the same Council and Cathedral that had so unfairly used him during the Liberation War and then thrown him away when no longer convenient. Destartes too, had no Blessings, and only now in hindsight did Orodan understand why the man had always been against divine influence.

All these people and groups were part of the Anthus conspiracy. A planned coup to overthrow the Republic’s current government and severely curtail the divine influences within it.

A rebellion to force secularism onto the government.

An absurd thought, particularly in a world where Gods were very much real and their Blessings quite tangible and beneficial. Though, if anyone was well-situated to aid in such a plot, it would be Orodan himself.

After all, he’d slain enough Gods.

“A lifetime of living beneath the heel of divine tyrants and their preferred servants tends to leave one with plenty of time on their hands,” Tegin said. “Alongside my mentor, Lord Destartes, I’ve been sowing the seeds and planning this for decades.”

“And you, old man. You certainly trusted me rather quickly,” Orodan said. “It’s been but a day since I’ve arrived at Anthus.”

“A risky gamble to be sure,” Destartes admitted. “But with the descent of the Eldritch Avatar on our hands there was no apparent chance in the future for our ploy to succeed. And even if we had, Novarria would swoop in to prey upon the upset. We needed an assurance, a chance to present itself. And lo and behold, a bullheaded man claiming to be a time looper possessed of abilities most unnatural arrived today. We only had everything to gain and little to lose.”

“Your lives?” Orodan asked.

“Of little consequence when the chance to strike back against my tormentors presents itself,” the Lieutenant-General said. “I am a soldier, Mister Wainwright. War is my trade. The prospect of death didn’t dissuade me during the Liberation War, and it will not now.”

“Strong words,” Orodan said. “Well, I suppose I can get behind such a cause.”

“You’re certain of helping us then?” the halfling asked.

“Better than me slaying Agathor, Eximus and Ilyatana, leaving the Republic in a state of disarray,” Orodan replied. “You and your conspiracy group seem to have a plan for managing the fallout at least. Now then, you didn’t answer my original question…”

“…when do we start?”

#

A singular month.

Tegin would need at least that long to properly arrange all of their revolutionary forces and call upon their allies. Which meant Orodan had a month of study ahead of him.

A month which his teacher Destartes, eagerly looked forward to it seemed.

“He’s looking at you most covetously.”

“Oh! If only all my students were like you!” the old wizard proclaimed. “Yes, yes! Keep pushing yourself beyond all reason and common sense! Push the boundaries of what spatiomancy can do!”

Orodan was forced to ignore Zaessythra as his skills went to war with one another. The connection to his central glyph had been turned off for now. It was Orodan and his skills alone that would drive the training.

Space Mastery demanded he begin training via the perfection of the basics. It teamed up with Body Tempering to order Orodan to create thousands of basic spatial bubbles all throughout his body in an effort to condense himself and put his body under pressure.

He didn’t really have veins, organs and lifeblood, not since he’d learned Absolute Body Composition. But each cell in his body, even if it was a thing in and of itself capable of seeing, thinking and hearing… still had a form. And each cell was now put under strain as Space Mastery and Body Tempering teamed up to force him to create miniature spatial bubbles for each cell which compressed them heavily.

[Body Tempering 66 → Body Tempering 67]

All the while, Harmony of Vitality kept fighting to re-create each cell in superior form. Baptized by the pressure.

Space could not only be used for travel, but compression, as he’d discovered himself via Spatial Fold’s destructive attack. Then, if his body could resist the crushing, did that not mean that each cell needed to re-grow not just stronger and capable of exerting more force… but also more durable?

After all, being crushed by space and being crushed by a hammer were more or less the same thing, were they not?

His Iron Body skill agreed, and it came roaring into the battlefield of his body, making its presence clearly known as it crossed a threshold.

[Iron Body 89 → Iron Body 90]

The creation of a spatial bubble was the single most basic exercise a student of spatiomancy could perform. Yet, it was the utter mastery of the basics, even in the most outlandish conditions, that pushed the limits of what one could do.

So too, did Space Mastery cross a threshold.

[Space Mastery 89 → Space Mastery 90]

[New Title → Space Master]

“Hahah! I sense it! A breakthrough!” Destartes exclaimed. “Never have I seen such raw talent. How unfair, for the universe to grant the time loop to one such as you.”

Was it? And was Orodan talented?

He wasn’t sure, not when his stupidly powerful Transcendent Combat Mastery was forcing his skills to war against one another and himself in order to forge the best path to advancement through fierce competition.

If anything, his rate of advancement had greatly improved in many aspects. Though, when it came to critical insights, Orodan got the feeling he couldn’t just rely on this skill.

Still, a whole month of magic training was before him. And at the end of it, a revolution.

Just how far could Orodan push his skills with the assistance of this new outlook on combat?