"Retreat! Hold the gates!" King cries, hacking away at her undead with a sword before making a dash for the gates. Amongst the fleeing army, she must be the only person running at the Kyis' gates with a smile.

Navi's barrage of [Molten Bolts] hurtles across the sky, smashing against a flickering dome without any harm. Streams of mortar follow her strike as King ducks past the gates undetected—she's only ever used [Somatic Manipulation] to add a soft layer of skin over the armored truth of our Demon body. [Full Mimic] comes in handy for stealing someone else's voice, face, gait, and even unique adaptations. For all intents, she is whoever she says.

The city is in chaos, but they've prepared. Half of King's original undead army is gone; arrows blessed by the highest Paladins unleashed on the initial wave through the outer city. Stakes, traps, and a constant volley of arrows extinguished any hope of Valery's assault resolving anytime soon.

Whether that's as a result of King's eager carelessness or another strategy in play to keep Valery away—she's in now, under the guise of an unfortunate Runic Warrior who died at King's [Death Grip]. His life Essence turned demonic filtered through the [Soul Crystal].

Existing within the [Soul Crystal], every bit of Essence makes the Realm larger and as expansive as Reais and every bit as torturous—shrouds and spectres of countless precious and grueling experiences. A life a thousand-year-old stranger lived, yet I remember.

"What do you fight for?" she warbles; the little girl I should've played with.

Essence shifts out into the body, powering it for King to [Mesmer] a confused commander. "The Palace, the Emperor, where?"

"Further up the hill, beyond the second and third tower walls. You'll need a charm to get through." The words gasp out of her mouth before she has a second to process whether or not they should. The charm is a subtle blue magic circle, enchanted with thin ink onto the back of her hand.

King hums at the hand. "So, with this hand… you can get through?"

"You can't cut it off," she spurts out again, and King sucks at her teeth.

"Unfortunate. I guess I'll have to take you with me. Come and be good now, the Emperor means to see me." Without question, the commander hurries out, leading the way to her Emperor with every authority bestowed on her.

Approaching the first towered gate defense, battlements and catapults actively slingshot flaming boulders. Calvary men atop some reptilian monster gather at the front of the gate, anticipating when Valery's forces break through. Mages line all the walls, reinforcing the massive shield over the city, others waiting for Valery's critical forces to move out of hiding so they can smite with artillery of their own.

The commander King stole has no issue being let through. The pikeman guarding the entrance even salutes King, or rather the large Runic Warrior the commander is escorting.

Past the gate there's a horde of infantry—Runic Warriors, common pikemen, swordsmen, archers, and even some lancers stand in reserve, the defense to the defense. And there's another wall of them to pass through.

Gravely, King says, "It won't be long now, Nil. It's not too late to change your mind." She's not as passionate about offering me power as she usually is. Maybe she finally gets I'm never going to go along with it, or maybe she finally has it all in sight, all she's wanted, all she's fought for.

"Why?"

The question disturbs her enough that she stops walking to consider it. "What do you mean why?"

"Why are you still fighting a war that ended a thousand years ago?"

She snorts and continues behind the commander, "If you think it ended, then the Heroes must be here for something else."

"They're here because you are."

"Because we are, you mean."

"I think your Necromancy is far more identifiable than my Lance Arts. Not that I've had the chance to use them. You've been in control, fighting and striving all the time we've been here. Why?"

"We have a pact with Lumina."

"Lumina? The one you've manipulated into letting you roam free? Unchecked?"

"I am no child or beast, I am King. I don't need a leash," she hisses.

Finally, I say, "What are you fighting for? Power? You have it. You have more power than most people. You're truly immortal, you're invincible with Lumina in your pocket and Valery subject to her. You know how to evade the Heroes, and you will likely outlive them if we return to Reais... what else is there to fight for?"

Although I ask, I haven't found an answer to the question myself. Contemplating my answer has brought me patience, but nothing's better than the lackluster word I think of whenever the shrouds ask me—survival. That's all I've ever done, survive, but what good has surviving ever done me? I survived the Vampires attacking the village, killing my mother. I survived my worthless father, and I survived the courts of the Count and King. I survived Reinmer smiting King and I to Reais, and I went on to survive Reais itself.

If I fight to survive, then what am I surviving for? Is there any purpose behind this existence?

"You ask what I fight for, but I've told you a million times, Nil. For our… my dream of unity, peace, and prosperity for all living things." She chortles, tossing hair out of the way. "I must sound like a hypocrite talking about these things. A diplomat is better suited to say such words, not a warlord, not a Necromancer. Not King. But I say no, I won't be a fool. I see this world for what it is, and in my ambition, violence is the most necessary tool."

I see the world for what it is too. Endless. Reais was a disgusting place, the Wall was perhaps even worse, yet neither compare to the cruel nature of living. At least in Reais and in the Wall there was someone to blame, someone to curse for putting me there. In life, who can I curse but myself for choosing to live still in a world soaked in violence, blood, and soot.

"And what if you don't succeed? Would you be happy with your handiwork? How many lives would you have brought peace and prosperity to? How many would say your name in thanks after all you've wrought?"

"Hescaria and Denkel are free kingdoms now. Their races are free from the subjugation of the Humans. I say I've done quite well in that respect. Even if my name goes unsung, I've been instrumental in building this new world. The Sainid fall tonight, Nil, and with any luck, so do the Gods."

Kiosks, shops, markets, and homes are all shut, fortified as King trails through. Many buildings have been requisitioned and demolished for placement of massive trebuchets, Mage towers for ranged assaults, and an inner shield for the last district.

The people huddle in their homes, praying to whatever god to save them. Their prayers should be answered—the largest Empire under assault, and not a Hero in sight to redeem them. Is this karmic? Are the Gods letting this happen to the Sainid for all they've transgressed?

Or is it like it's always been? Fickle, random, and entirely by chance? Do the nations of the world have no value to the Gods? To Reinmer? To Anera and especially Teirs?

It's wars like these that made King make sense to me. Why would the Gods stand by and do nothing while so many suffered thanks to the senseless pride and greed of a handful of powerful people?

Unity, peace, and prosperity for every living thing sounds so warm. It was exciting, even when we stole Deific Essence from Priests and Paladins of the very negligent Gods we sought to replace.

Should I survive for this dream? A dream of absolute godhood? To prepare a new world, the world King dreams of? No. I've survived that path and learned more than enough to ask a final question.

"When you become a god, what will you do to those who don't want to live as you deign them to? What will you do to violent creatures? What will you do when another King is born?"

"There will be no such thing, Nil." The commander stands, explaining to the guard that the Runic Warrior wants to see the Emperor. King swells with mana. "The only reason there are such… differing opinions is because of the Gods. They represent the sick people who worship them with action, not prayer. The sick will be gone because disease will not exist. War will not exist. Endurance will be gone, because in my world a living thing need not endure, only prosper."

"Stop him!" the guard yells, tossing away the commander as King crackles with lightning.

A lightning bolt smites King, exploding outward and disintegrating everything and everyone in the way as she lifts off the ground. Stormy winds and clouds carry her through the walls. Bolts of thunder shatter straight through the concrete of Kyis' third defensive wall. Chaos swallows the defenders on the other side as the wall comes crumbling and lightning indiscriminately descends on warriors—the metal of their armor calling to it like a rod.

"You're mad. You'd need to erase this world to make that a reality."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"I'd need to become an over-god! Or the only god left!" she cackles, riding the lightning through the Mage towers, breaking down Kyis' defenses even more as the towers bury Mages underneath them. The stormy winds and jolt of lightning carry her like a goddess of storm—her mastery with the element would impress Reinmer.

"That will never happen. No one can overcome the primordial beings. Anera is one god you will never have the strength to overcome. She is all that lives and breathes."

"Hahahah! Why do you think I was so intrigued by Necromancy?" Thunderclaps rattle the palace she hovers over, and lightning bolts break a hole in it for her descent. Screams ring through as she lands, unfortunate servants caught in the roof's collapse, and her strikes litter the wide space. "Oh, Emperor! Where are you?" she sings out.

A survivor squirms awake, groaning then yelping as King lifts the woman by the scruff of her dress and glares, lightning sparking at the edges of her eyes. "Where is the Emperor?"

Whimpering and disoriented, the woman loses consciousness in King's arms, but all she needed was to ask the question. Letting her drop, King marches through the rubble of the palace, following the directions she Mesmered from the servant's mind.

The palace is nothing like Hescaria: there's little gold or silver and a lot more Mithril—in the form of armor hung on walls King struts pass and even the handling of the doors she breaks through.

It's oddly quiet, dusty, and scant for the Emperor's home; likely servants and workers slowly abandoned the city as the war grew closer until they were left with the skeleton crew that cowers as King strolls into a particularly massive room.

It's comfortably decorated, and the woman seated at the bed's end wears a heavy crown. She looks up at King as she steps in, not a trace of cowardice in her eyes as King slaps the crown off her head and asks, "Who are you?"

"Not the one you're looking for," she says, pulling her hands over one another.

"And where is—?" King barely gets the word out before the woman nods over at the wall and the closet attached to it. Chuckling, King walks over to it and surges lightning through it. "Thanks. You might want to leave—you're no Empress without an Empire."

Defiant, the woman wears the crown. Stiffly looking ahead, she says, "Even for a day… even for a night. This will be enough."

King scoffs in disgust but lets her be. The closet's inner truths reveal itself as a chamber replaces the walk-in. She steps in and surges mana through the warm blue Gestalt Crystals embedded in the chamber and it descends.

"She reminds me of you," I tell King, and I feel her flare up as the chamber rattles and groans all the way. "She's just as delusional about the extent of her powers. If you manage to become a god, all you'd do is make it easier for Reinmer or Anera herself to smite you down. Now you can hide, skulk, and grow, but…"

"I am nothing like her. She sold herself to power, thinking proximity means you have it, but proximity is only that. If she wanted true power, she would have formed an Empire herself, like I did," King says, letting out a strained groan as the chamber journeys further.

Even from the [Soul Crystal], the pressure of King's goal is clearly felt. She lets out an excited giggle. "After so many years… we're finally here, Nil. The child is here; my destiny is here."

"I hope Reinmer shows up to smite us back to Reais."

Her giggles turn into full-blown laughter at this. "But I'm doing you a favor. If you're lucky enough to survive our souls being split, then you can have your body again. Isn't that what you've been waiting for?"

I don't say anything as the chamber comes to a stop. Eager and impatient, King rips through the slow-opening chamber doors to discover a cathedral, or at least what's left of it.

Immediately, she reaches out with Mesmer, looking for minds to touch, searching for any squatters, but Essence bleeds out of the [Soul Crystal] rather than do as she wishes. Keen, King watches as the Essence seeps into a statue, one of Anera.

"You!" a familiar voice yells out. Looking away from the statue, King spots Prince Deran carrying a bucket. A towel drapes over his shoulder and his clothes are less than royal.

"You," King says, smirking.

The bucket rattles against the floor, spilling bloodstained water out as Deran starts to dash away. King crosses over in an instant and picks him up by the neck—even under pressure from the force in Anera's statue, my Demon body is still capable of this much.

"Ach! Staph-ck!" he scrambles against her grip, swatting and kicking fruitlessly as King stares at the spilled bucket; among the blood, there's clumps of soaked tissue and cloth.

"Who else is with you?"

It doesn't matter that he can't breathe, merely hearing the question is enough for his mind to prompt an attempt at an answer. Without any wards or protection, everyone weaker than me can't resist [Mesmer].

His answer brings King's attention to flickering candlelight emanating from the stairs. "No wonder you were so easy to roll over, dying Emperor and useless Prince." She snorts, watching intently as Deran's bloated veins turn blue across his puffed face. "He'll die on his own, but you… you're a cockroach, aren't you?"

His arms fall by his side, limp and weak as he spurts and heaves his last strained gasps, eyes glazed over with tears. King digs into his gut, swimming her arm through organs, tearing and burning through to his chest cavity. Hands wrapped around his heart, she whispers, "Lumina."

Retrieving his still heart, she lets him drop, chest and gut torn open, blue as a whale.

"And you intend to build a world of peace."

"Call me hypocrite all you want, but this world and so many of the things in it won't remain in mine. Things like Deran." She squeezes his heart in hand and trails down the stairs, peeking into the candle-lit room.

The Emperor of Sainid lays still as a log on a slim wooden bed. There's another on the side where Deran would've slept, along with a pouch of currency and several vials of some medicine.

Croaking as King approaches, his crusty eyelids tear open as he hoarsely asks, "Jeriko… Major. is that you? Have you… have you put down that rebellion?" His arm trembles, reaching for a glass of water by his bedside.

King kneels down, picking up the glass with her bloodstained hands and helping him take a sip. He's a frail, balding man with only slivers of his hair hanging onto his sunken cheeks and scalp. Lips cracked and sores spread all over his body make it clear the Emperor has been suffering from this sickness long before the war erupted.

Grazing her nails over his strands of hair, King cups his head, raising it so he surely sees her groping his son's heart. "Deran is gone, nameless Emperor. Jeriko… Valery au Hescaria routed him weeks ago. I am King. As your Empire is built on the ruins of mine, I suppose you must have some knowledge of my significance and the child I've come for. What have your ancestors done with it?"

"Oh-! Anera's Blessing…" he gasps, eyes strained and wide, boring deep into King's. "I… I abused it. It was abundant, and I wanted my reign to be… abundant. I… my blood is used, burnt. A man is not strong enough… Deran isn't strong enough."

Eyes narrowed at the hysteric Emperor, King presses, "Anera's Blessing, who made it so? Who made this place?"

"Legend… Heroes," he starts, letting out a whooping cough and a clump of blood. A whisper of a smile licks at his lips, "The first Sainid Era. Protectors."

"Ugh, that's enough," King sneers. Letting his head drop, she waltzes out of the room and back up the cathedral stairs, glaring at the statue of Anera. "Anera's Blessing? They turned my so-called perversion into profit for their worshipers. See that, Nil? That is how two-faced these Gods are."

Restraining the urge to shatter the statue, King takes a cursory look around the cathedral, lingering on a pedestal and back at the statue. Snapping her fingers, she grins, "I can make this work." Her mirth quickly fades as she turns to find no portal leading to her desired destination.

Snapping her fingers again and again, it's not long before King realizes what's happening and sheepishly giggles at the statue. "It's feeding on everything. Mana, Essence, Deific Essence, life Essence, everything. It will take… a lot to make this work then."

***

Over the course of weeks, the slamming, war cries, and explosions from Valery sieging Kyis dies to a minimum. Just a few days ago, Valery updated everyone with the good news; Kyis has fallen.

Although her voice didn't carry the mirth of a winning warrior, she spoke with concern about Jeriko, Deran, and the missing royal family—the Empress was murdered by some distraught servant apparently, and with her the last true claim to the Sainid Empire.

King ignored it all, her focus entirely spent on crafting the right arcane manipulation to rip her soul from my body and into the round blue-green Egg the Dwarves crafted for her.

I've watched her through the [Soul Crystal] long enough to know the final result might kill me in the process—she also makes sure to point it out.

"Nil, this is your last chance."

"Kill me and be done with it. I'd rather die than live in a world forged in your image."

She sneers as usual, "Then I hope you do die this time. Lumina won't need you hounding her afterward."

Afterward… this is afterward. The pact is complete now—at least my side of it is.

[Pact]

[Lumina au Hescaria— Unfulfilled/Undetermined]

[Nil— Sainid Empire Fallen; Pact Fulfilled]

[Set Condition for Fulfilment— Nil]

I'm not sure what to set or even if I can set anything from here. When the pact was made, all I asked was that Hescaria stand beside me against all enemies. Now… I'm not sure I'll live to have enemies.

Calridian, Varks, The Queen of Ticks, and now the Heroes. If I were the Demon I was a year ago, they'd be the targets of my aggression, but King, the inner Demon who lived within me, has already destroyed everything. I've lost my freedom, and soon I hope a final darkness will consume me, save me from the torment of these shrouds and King's persistent destruction.

"You've done well manipulating her," I say as she snaps open a portal. "She'd do anything you ask her to, like I used to."

King takes Lumina by her hand, ignoring Kelv entirely and leading her back into the ruins. Silently, King snaps at me, "She's nothing like you. She actually believes in me, in what I'm trying to accomplish. In the reality I'm trying to build."

"Because you manipulated her into thinking as you do."

"Maybe in the beginning, but I'm no fool. I learn from my mistakes, and you, Nil, are one of my greatest disappointments. She won't disappoint me. She's a fellow monarch, after all."

King and Lumina walk and talk. Her outrage at discovering Deran's demise is smoothed over with a stolen kiss. "You'll need the undead, just in case Nil tries something… extreme. But, I promise it won't be long before I'm back with you. As long as you protect it, I will return," King tells her.

"Your precautions are… unnecessary. I don't believe in you or care about your ambition enough to ruin it."

"After keeping you under all this time? I'm not taking any chances," King says, turning to go ahead with the spell. "Brace yourself." A warning both for myself and Lumina. She taps Anera's statue and it breaks apart, crumbling to pieces and then immediately absorbing those pieces as a pitch-black orb reveals itself.

King begins the incantations, and it's not long before the orb of Deific Essence does as the spell commands. Stabbing through the [Soul Crystal], the crimson world I've inhabited is pierced by the searing mark of Deific Essence.

Far superior to the Essence of Blood Orange Demon, it splits the clouds of Essence, cuts through the fabric of mist and shroud that makes up my soul within the [Soul Crystal], and yet even now—

"What do you fight for?"

"Aagh! I don't know!"

Something breaks through from above, taking a bright silver form in the sea of red and the divine spark breaking me in two. "King!" I call out, even as the sea of Essence floods into my form, pressuring my soul as the Deific Essence boils me through.

"King! Answer me!" She hovers in that form, a star in my darkening sky, "You… you did this to me. All of it. I don't know what I'm fighting for. I don't kn—!"

King explodes out of the [Soul Crystal], shattering the vessel as she absorbs the ray of Deific Essence into herself. For a moment, I'm free: no longer boiling, no longer pressured by the weight of my own Essence, no longer trapped in my own body.

And then—

[Contested Mortal Realm!]

[Minor Connection— 32nd Layer, Reais]

[Greater Connection— Reais]

[Ire-Reais 616 Friction— 74%]

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