Chapter 1

“There are very few things which I consider mine.”

At the middle of all things

Ascathon
The middle of all things, the place where the multiverse begins and ends.
The place where – according to even the oldest beings – everything began.
The place where the gods live in a city, a place where immortals walk
among one another like mere citizens, governed by the Council of Gods.

Here, at this holy and breathtaking place, there sits a god with his ghostcat
on his lap. And for all the world cares, he could as well be some measly
office worker in any unthankful job.

I laugh at the thought, petting my cat as I watch the skyline of the crystal
city from my office. Grumbling, I run my fingers through my purring pet's
fur. The crystal city was always here and nobody knows how it was made,
because not even the gods can shape the mana crystals which it was made
of.

The smooth surfaces of the buildings reflect the distant star’s light and in
the sky is the black hole at the middle of all things, hovering above us like
a promise of doom.

My little office is within the big machinery of the bureaucracy of this

megacity. For a moment, I remember my ascendancy to godhood. How I
felt like nothing could stand in my way. Who would have thought that
ascending to godhood wouldn't change anything in the end?

Of course, I can single-handedly obliterate worlds, but even that gets

boring after a while.

If it wasn't for the Council, I wouldn't even be here. I would be out there in
the multiverse and do as I please. But as life is, there are always those who
want to control others and I have to admit that the Council is doing a
pretty good job at it. The gods are no different from the mortals.

The Council manages the gods of the multiverse, making sure that new
ascendancies don't stray out of line. I admit that having someone who
keeps the sheep in line isn't a bad thing. Even when weak gods fight,
worlds get destroyed.

Such is the power of the gods.

And those who don't stick to the rules tend to vanish. There are only a few
ways to deal permanently with an immortal being. First, you have to kill
its corporeal form, then, you have to make sure that its soul doesn't
reincarnate. Otherwise, you would have a pissed-off god come after you a
few decades later, or however long it takes the soul to find a new vessel.

That's mainly why I am trying to keep my head down. It doesn't happen

often, but gods are vanishing when they oppose the Council. Permanently.
So, for now, I try to be a reasonable and good sheep. Which means that I
am doing my best to be useful. 'Cause, useful people don't vanish.

I sigh again, wondering how it's possible that by ascending to godhood I

would turn into a mere desk-jockey. I mean, I was an Empress in my
former life! I enslaved and ruled a whole world until I grew powerful
enough to ascend into the ranks of the Crystal City. The Council gave me a
little leeway in my dealings with the mortals for the first few centuries, as
they always do with the new gods.

They know from experience that it will get boring soon enough.
Then, with time, all my mortal connections fell away. Family members
died, by accident or by choice... apparently I am not a person who people
want to hang out with for centuries. It says something about my character.

When I realized one day that I had nothing more to lose, I killed myself in
an attempt to escape the Council's attention, who had roped me over the
centuries ever further into their web. Turns out that they have a way of
tracking souls throughout the multiverse even if they go through the
reincarnation process. If I had known that, I wouldn't have killed myself.

Apart from being reborn and getting a new body, reincarnation always
comes with a loss of power and memories. So, even if you aren't happy
with your body because you reincarnated as a girl instead of a man, you
should avoid dying at all costs. That's really the main difference between
an immortal and a mortal soul, the power level which allows them to keep
their memories throughout multiple lives.

My silent brooding is interrupted when someone rudely opens the door to

my office and a man in silver plated leather armour steps inside.

“Ascathon!” Jahr greets me, holding a paper in his left hand while running
his fingers through his hair. “I really didn't want to seek you out, but I have
a message from Tjenemit.” The other god eyes me with obvious distaste.
As a deity of order, he seems to have a natural aversion towards me. We
never got along.

I wave a hand for him to go on. “What does he want this time? A rare
beast slain? Did some sentient dragon ascend and he doesn't want to play
along? Information? Who do I have to spy on?”

Jahr waves his hand, grinning with glee. “Nothing like that. He just wants
you to take part in the meeting at Studio 7.”

A meeting? “What's this meeting about?”

“A new project. And it so happens that I expect to become the project's

leader.” His expression turns even more gleeful than it already is. “Which
means that you will be my bitch. I'll make you do twice the work.”
“I am not going to be anyone's bitch,” I answer matter of factly. Jahr isn't
the first asshole who I don't get along with, and I am sure he won't be the
last. Maybe it's time to remind everyone why the Council keeps me
around?

“You heard the order, so come along like a nice little pet.” Jahr huffs and
turns around, then he tries twisting the doorknob – without result. He
yanks at the door, but nothing happens. Losing his patience, he kicks it but
stumbles back. It's like some mortal is trying his best to get through a
heavy metal door without any tools at hand. “What's this! How is this
possible!?”

“It's a special magical circuit, aimed at disconnecting everything within

this room from the aether. Very useful in subduing a new test subject. It's
the secret of why I am so good at catching runaway deities,” I educate him
patiently. “Inside this room, you are nothing more than a mere mortal. At
least as far as your power is concerned. There will be no high-power
energy conversion of any kind. I am afraid that I haven't figured out how
to catch a soul within this space. An essential part of catching other gods –
or at least to incapacitate them.” I shrug. “One day I’ll solve that problem
too.”

And until then I’ll have to make do with other solutions.

Jahr turns to face me. “Let me go.”

“No.” I huff. “Haven't you listened? You are my newest test subject. Feel
honoured.”

“You have no idea. Tjenemit knows where I am. He will punish you...”
Then – suddenly – a light bulb seems to switch on in that stupid brain of
his and Jahr chuckles, searching the walls with his eyes. “But if this
inhibition field affects the entire room, then that means that you are also
weak and helpless.” He reaches for the shiny sword at his belt. “A grave
mistake. Even without magic or a god's power I am a skilled swordsman.
A martial artist of the highest calibre.” His eyes shine with happiness at
the opportunity that presented itself. “And you are nothing more than a
weak mage. You are nothing without your spells!”
The time he needed for his speech was more than enough for me to sneak a
hand beneath my desk, gripping the handle of the small, handheld
crossbow.

“You are completely right.” I raise the crossbow from beneath the desk
and aim it at his chest, releasing the first bolt with a satisfying 'Twang!' of
the string.

The projectile, a bolt tipped with the shard of a mana crystal, embeds itself
inside Jahr's chest. The other god stumbles backwards with a shocked
expression on his face. His shiny armour may be functional, but it's still
just metal. The heads of my darts are made out of mana crystal, a
mysterious material that's to gods as metal is to mortals. The pure energy
and magic inside a mana crystal is able to cut through any barrier if
wielded with enough force.

There are only very few places in which you can acquire this rare material,
like in the middle of all things. Actually, the whole planet is made out of
the stuff. Some ancient and long forgotten cataclysm created it. I still had
to search the planes outside the city for a long time until I found a fitting
piece of mana crystal.

Not waiting for the results of the first shot, I fire five more times,
manipulating the automated loading mechanism of the neat toy. The barrel
with the six darts rotates each time with a satisfying 'clink' until the last
dart finds Jahr's forehead.

Stumbling backwards, he is stopped by the door and slowly slides to the

ground, his hand still on the half-drawn sword.

I watch, fascinated whether it will work or not, as the enchanted darts do

their job of catching Jahr's soul.

Studying his aura, I watch as it congeals around the first bolt which
embedded itself in his chest. There are only very few beings who can deal
with an enchanted weapon stuck inside their body. To counter the effects of
a spell that's activating inside one's own body would require incredible
skill with inner mana manipulation, a skill in which even I can't claim
proficiency in. As a god, it's so much easier to just release your aura and
blast anything away that might be able to harm you.

“Don't worry, Fluffers,” I coo at the cat on my lap. “The evil man won't
harm you.”

Lifting the little kitten off my lap, I put it on the table, then I get up to
inspect the corpse.

It takes half an hour to search Jahr's mortal body and to store the cleaned
shard of mana crystal inside my chest pocket, his soul safely imprisoned
inside. It’s the best container I can think of to make sure that he won’t
revive any time soon. Capturing souls is so much easier since I found out
how to enchant mana crystals with a capturing array. The only mystery
that remains is to find out how I can create the stuff. It's one of the arcane
mysteries which got lost in the ages.

Because one thing is for sure in my opinion: Mana Crystals are somehow
artificially created. Once I get to the bottom of that secret, I might even be
able to challenge the Council. Now that would be a story! I could become
a king among gods. Nobody would be able to oppose my forces if I had
access to such a secret. After all, a big part of the Council's power is based
on the fact that they sit on the biggest known deposit of mana crystals in
the known multiverse.

Revelling in this fantasy, I deactivate the inhibition field by pressing a tile

next to the office's entrance. Testing my magic, I dispose of the body with
a flick of my finger and a wave of my hand turns the blood into dust which
is easily dealt with thanks to a conjured up breeze. Some minor deity will
soon perform the cleaning duties and all of the remaining evidence will be
gone.

I huff, making sure that there is nothing obvious that would hint at the fact
that a god was forcefully immaterialized in this place.

Once that's done, I access the city's network through the workstation on
my desk, a nifty little device with a few hundred Petahertz of calculation
power. I had to pay a pretty penny for it, but since there are plenty of
surveillance systems throughout the crystal city, it was worth the
investment. Having a capable hacking tool is very helpful in making sure
that Jahr's last known whereabouts weren't anywhere close to my office.

Having made sure that there is plenty of false evidence regarding his
movements, I pick up Fluffers who is licking itself. The little ghostcat is a
remnant I kept from a previous life. By now, I am not very fond of dealing
with mortal beings, but Fluffers is a familiar, a magical construct that's
fed by my own mana. As long as it keeps a connection to me, it will stay
alive.

Outside my office, I take the corridor which leads to the central stairway.
From there I head directly towards the meeting rooms. Disposing of the
corpse and manipulating the data inside the network took a lot of time. I
might actually be late.

Upon reaching Studio 7 I wince, noting that the door is already closed.
Which means that the meeting has already started and that I am too late.

Sighing, I open the door and enter the room. Better to get it over with than
to stay outside until they start searching for me.

The room turns out to be large enough to hold a table for twenty people
and a raised pedestal for someone who wants to hold a speech.

Tjenemit, a dark-skinned man with average features, is standing on the

elevated ground and obviously waiting for something while he searches
through a stack of documents. From his appearance, you would never
guess that he is one of the rulers of the multiverse. The seats at the large
table are held by gods of various races. At first glance, I recognize a few
of them, but more than half of the present faces have no meaning to me.

Upon entering, the previously lively room falls totally silent as people
stop chatting.

“Why is he here?”

“If he is in, I am out.”

“I would rather take my chances with-”

“SILENCE!” Tjemenit’s voice booms through the room, shutting up

everyone. Turning towards me, the Council member points at an empty
chair right next to a half-orc who I recognize as Marigold, a god who I had
a few dealings with over the years.

Close to me are also Nazareth, a little gnome who somehow managed to

become a lesser deity – a god of mountains as far as I recall.

There is also Zenial, a goddess of the moon and night of average power.

And there is Seria, a deity of life and death. She is a real powerhouse and
for some reason, I have a feeling that she doesn’t like me. Looking back,
we share quite a bit of history. Though I have no idea what I ever did to
her, aside from hitting on her once or twice. But who would blame a
healthy man for hitting on a pretty woman?

After having taken a good look at the present menagerie of gods, I follow
Tjenemit’s order and walk towards the empty seat. I am a little confused
about the widely different power levels in this group. Though, it seems
like there is a god for each of the most common aspects of godhood.

But before I can reach my seat, Tjenemit stops me with a raised hand.
“Where is Jahr? He was supposed to bring you with him.”

Oops… “I don’t know? He just told me to be here and then he ran off.”

“He is totally lying,” someone whispers to my left. “It’s written all over
his face.”

“I bet he killed him… just for the kicks...” another joins in.

I quickly turn around to search for the offenders, but none of them dare to
identify themselves. “I killed nobody.” If I ever learned something about
the law, then it’s to deny until the end, and that’s what I am going to do
here.
A tall figure in a plate armour which looks suspiciously similar to Jahr’s
leather outfit bends over to ask a question of the little gnome next to him.
“Nazareth, why would you make such an accusation?”

The lesser deity’s eyes widen and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Don’t just
rat me out like that! I said it because it’s true! That’s Ascathon, the soul
mage I told you about! Everybody knows that people who talk bad about
him disappear.”

The plate-guy looks up, focusing on Tjenemit. “Is that true!?” Then he
looks at me. “And why are you holding a kitten? It looks ridiculous.”

Nazareth quickly raises his hands, waving. “Whatever you do, don’t insult
the kitten! The kitten is sacrosanct!”

The Council member closes his eyes and massages the bridge of his nose.
“I am too old to deal with this. Ascathon, what did you do with Jahr?”

“Nothing,” I answer quickly.

Tjenemit’s eyes flicker to my chest pocket. Somehow the elder god can
tell that I am hiding something, but it doesn’t seem like he is willing to
put up with the hassle of pursuing the matter. “I suppose that if we start an
investigation, nothing worthwhile will show up?”

“Of course not!” I reply. “Just check the surveillance feeds. Jahr left my
room quickly right after delivering the message.”

Shaking his head, the Council member gestures for me to sit down. “I am
just glad that I invited several people to this project, so we have a few
spares. Myrm, you will have to take over Jahr’s place. It means double the
work for you, but that can’t be helped. If it proves too much for you, I’ll
find another deity of order.”

“Me!? Why me!? And how can it be that you just let an accusation like
that slide? There must be an investigation!” the plated figure complains.
“Jahr and I were supposed to play two different aspects!”
“Look.” Tjenemit’s expression turns dangerous as he smiles winningly at
Myrm. “Ascathon here has a few abilities that are valuable to the Council.
Which means that as long as he doesn’t cause too much of a disturbance,
or gets himself caught, I don’t care. In fact, Jahr’s inability to deal with
Ascathon automatically removed him from the list of candidates for this
experiment. Why do you think I sent him to get this fellow?” Allowing his
voice to turn menacing, Tjenemit releases his aura, pressing down on all of
us with all his might.

The lesser deities pale and turn green with nausea. Nazareth bends over to
puke on the floor. Even the stronger ones among us shrink back from this
unrivalled power which forces itself onto us like the weight of eons. The
only ones who seem fairly unaffected are Myrm, Seria, Marigold and me.

I silently berate this Myrm character for setting off a Council member. He
must be new, and unaware of how things work in the world of gods. The
Council may play nice on the outside, putting up a shiny facade for those
who aren’t privy to its inner workings. But at the core, all the Council
members operate on the principle of 'might makes right'.

Ever since I was so unlucky to gain their attention, I did my best to be

unimportant enough to be left alone, but useful enough not to be disposed
of.

Sick of being ignored, I do my best to ignore the sickening feeling and

raise my hand like a good little kid at school. “Can I sit down now? And I
still don’t know what’s going on.”

As planned, my ploy breaks the moment and Tjenemit rolls his eyes,
retreating the menacing display of his aura. “Yes, I suppose we can repeat
the introduction for those who were late.” His eyes wander to two lesser
deities who apparently didn’t show up in time.

Happy that I am not the only person who was late, I hurry to sit down on
an empty chair and try not to stand out, but the gods to my left and my
right move their chairs to create a little more distance between me and
them… which makes me stand out even more.
Tjenemit takes his time before continuing his speech, making sure that
everyone is paying attention. “Listen up! You guys have the doubtful
honour of taking part in a pilot project which the Council is trying to
establish throughout the multiverse.

“Let's make this as short as possible. I have a lot of things to do, and there
are more groups participating in this project than just you. As you all
probably know, the Council takes great pride in overseeing the awakening
of new gods. Nobody wants a repeat of the age of war. That’s why we come
down very hard on irregular awakenings. Not to mention that they are a
big threat to the poor mortals. I mean, it’s entirely too easy for a god to
take over an entire planet, dictate what everyone ought to do, and to
become a tyrant on a massive scale.”

Again, everyone in the room looks at me.

“I did never do such a thing!” I defend myself. “I just made sure that an
everlasting cycle of war was broken!” It’s not my fault that I had to bring
down most of the planet’s important governments. Or that I had to beat the
word peace into those savages. Thanks to me, the planet experienced a
thousand years of relative peace. Nor is it my fault that they returned to
their short-sighted ways soon after I gave up killing everyone who reached
for power. After a thousand years of dealing with unruly children even I
get bored.

Tjenemit clears his throat. “As I said, this project is aimed at supervising
individuals who are strong candidates for ascension. For that reason, we
will assign groups of gods to planets with crossing pathways, and which
hold therefore a higher concentration of immortals. These gods will play
the part of the planet’s pantheon. You will report anyone who might ascend
to godhood to us before they actually achieve that step. Are there any
questions?”

A lesser deity raises her hand. “How do you intend to force us to do such a
boring job? And how are we supposed to identify candidates before the
Council becomes aware of them?”
“That’s a good question, and the Council came up with an answer. We used
some of our power and placed a world enchantment on the planet in
question. A very complex spell, don’t worry about it. A lesser deity like
you would never grasp its complexity.” He waves the matter away with a
swipe of his hand. “All of you will get an amulet that weaves you into the
enchantment. Each time some lesser soul prays strong enough to the
aspect you represent, you will be drawn along the pathways to them and
fulfil your roles as gods. Over time, you will be more and more involved
in the world and build enough of a reputation to identify those with strong
souls.”

Okay, I am out. Where is the exit? I didn’t keep my head down to be

caught up in this bullshit! What he suggests sounds like a lot of work, and
being forced to interact with mortals by being teleported to them when
they pray to me? Just no!

Raising my hand, I try to get Tjenemit’s attention. “I am thankful for being

given this opportunity, but I prefer my bleak office.”

“No.”

“What do you mean by ‘no’?”

“There is no backing out. Especially not for you. We can’t have the
position in charge of magic and chaos be left vacant. What would the
world come to without an evildoer? As much as we would like to deny it,
there are always those who pray for the end of the current regime, for
power, for their chance.” He smiles. “But don’t worry. You will be glad to
hear that you will be positioned on a world which you are very invested in.
One could say, that you already have a history there.”

Tjenemit clicks his fingers and amulets appear in front of each of us. They
are simple, silver coins on a chain. “Put those on, and don’t ever take them
off. If you do, I’ll know, and I won’t be pleased.”

The others put on the amulets with sour expressions on their faces, and
after a moment of hesitation, I follow their example. I could try to run, but
I’ve seen too many times that it doesn’t work. The Council gets them all in
the end.

The Council member nods after checking that everyone has his or her
amulet on. “You will be given one decade during which you can build your
reputation as a god. Use any measure of power you want to impress the
mortals. There is just one rule, don’t fight each other openly. We all know
the results of a battle between gods. I won’t tolerate you attacking each
other in any form. Don’t test my patience on this matter, don’t try to find
the boundaries. You will regret it.”

He looks around, making sure that he has made eye-contact with all of us.
“With that said, you can begin.” Clapping his hands, he activates the
amulet around my neck.

I try to complain. There are still many unanswered questions, details

which would be crucial to know! But I am too late, and Tjenemit seems to
be in a hurry.

The world twists and dissolves as I feel myself being pulled along one of
the countless pathways against my will. In the next moment, I find myself
on a battlefield in front of a bloody, babbling man who looks like a
medieval crusader. Someone pinned him with a spear to the ground,
leaving him to die on his own.

“...forsake you, god of light, I don’t need your order any longer! If you
won’t lead us to victory against these heathens, then I’ll pray to the
darkest of powers! As long as my comrades-” He notices me. “By the
light! Man, what are you doing with a bloody kitten on the battlefield!?”
 Chapter 2

The World
Paladin
The man in dark leather looked down on me, curling the corners of his
mouth in disgust. Half of his face was hidden by a hood, but that couldn't
hide the utter disdain he felt just by looking at me. He would have been the
perfect image of an evil sorcerer, were it not for the white kitten he was
holding protectively in his hands.

Or was my death causing hallucinations? No. I had seen people die

because of wounds in their guts plenty of times. It was neither painless nor
quick, and it was a death sentence if not treated by a skillful healer. Yes,
they would start talking mad, but that was only after fever and infection
had driven them insane.

Without wasting another second on me, the man turns and vanishes in a
shower of sparks.

A mage! The man was a mage and he had left me to die with a barbed
spear in my guts! A spear that was cursed with the ability to banish the
victim's mana. I was as helpless as a child right now and that man who
could have saved me with a few seconds of his time just left me to die. To
become food for the carrion eaters!

“Oh, darkness!” I cursed. “The light truly abandoned...”

Suddenly, the man reappears, still holding the kitten. His mouth opens in
obvious surprise as he looks around. I gape myself, despite the pain in my
guts, astonished at his return.
Then his gaze falls on me and he reaches out, pulling the spear out of me
in a single, smooth motion. The very same moment, I can feel healing
magic pouring into me, restoring me with a power I've never felt before!

“Stop!”

He stabs the spear right back into my stomach and I suck in a sharp breath,
too surprised by the pain to scream.

“Praying!”

He pulls the spear out and this time I do scream, feeling every barb rip
through my flesh.

“To!”

Healing magic washes over me and I sigh in blissful relief – but the
speartip falls again and relief turns to agonizing pain as the maniac twists
the weapon inside my guts. It feels almost as if I can sense the hooks
catching onto my intestines.

“Me!”

Then he vanishes again, leaving nothing behind but a trail of sizzling

energy.

Raising my head, I inspect the damage, only to find out that the maniac
left me in a worse state than before. My guts are spilling out of me,
blooming from my belly and fanning out around the spearshaft like a
horrible flower.

“Holy Motherfucker! The light truly abandoned-” I stop mid-curse as the

man reappears. Without hesitation, he reaches for the spear.

“Nooo!” I call out, long past caring. “I didn't pray to you, you insane son
of a bitch! Why don't you just end me!”

He kneels down, getting right into my face. “If I kill you, there is nobody
who can tell the other mortals not to pray to me! You have to live for long
enough to tell them that summoning me is a very bad idea.”

“But- I- didn't- pray- to- you!” I hiss out between my teeth. “All I did, was
cursing the light!”

His eyes widen and he gets up, mumbling to himself. “That means that the
world enchantment doesn't just react to prayers. It reacts to anyone and
everyone who despises my opposite just strong enough.”

An arrow plunges into his left thigh, and he looks down at himself.
Looking up, he scans our surroundings as if realizing just now that we are
on a battlefield. Spells are flying, men fighting, screaming and dying.
Though, none of them seem to pay attention to us.

Right next to us, a knight of my order and one of the heathens are fighting,
one armed with a club and the other with a short sword. Neither of them is
giving the other even a chance to back off.

Drawing the arrow out of his thigh, the mage breaks it, veins bulging on
his hand. Hovering at the edge of consciousness, I notice that there is no
blood.

“Those were my favourite pants!”

And that's when I realize for the first time that this man isn't just a maniac
with magical powers. A dense weight settles down on my chest and an
aura of blue magic appears around the stranger. It gains in intensity until
all I can think of is the man's presence and his power. Then a wave of red
and blue radiates from him with irresistible force, washing over the
landscape like a tidal wave, a primeval force that can't be fought against or
understood.

The pain fades into the background of my mind as red tendrils of pure
magic wash out of the man, incinerating the pair of duelists in our
immediate vicinity. It's as if I am facing the sun and I suddenly know that
this being could wipe out everyone on this battlefield with a wave of his
hand.
The fighting around us stops gradually as the awareness of this presence
spreads. The feeble-minded crumble first under the weight of his presence,
but soon enough there is complete silence as men fall to the ground,
something within them crushed like an ant beneath the boot of a man. The
weakest of them simply drop dead, their spark of life blown out like
candles in a tornado.

But if we are nothing more than insects to this existence, then what does
that make him?

The World
Ascathon
“Puny, little mortals!” I reach out and rip the spear out of the man's guts.
More blood and other contents spill out of the wound. Calling out, I
address everyone around us, “You squirm and struggle in your puddles of
mud! It's always the same. Each of you should be locked into a little cage
of his own! That's the only way to stop you from killing one another! Not
that I care! I stopped caring long ago.”

Reaching out, I cast a healing spell on the man who is responsible for my
presence in this desolate place, the power behind the incantation strong
enough to reassemble his body in a split second. The wound in his stomach
closes abruptly, cutting off what was hanging out of him. Then his organs
squirm beneath his skin as his body struggles to reform what was lost.

His pale complexion pales even further upon seeing the miracle.

“Get up, worm!” I order, and when he isn't fast enough, I pull him to his
knees by grabbing the shoulder piece of his chainmail armour. “I'll teach
you what it means to call upon me!”

“B- b- but I didn't do anything...” he whines, and a wet puddle forms

beneath him.
That's when I realize that I got so angry that I released my aura in the
presence of mortals, killing most of the people around me. It probably
killed most of the weaker ones on the battlefield. I halt for a split second,
but brush the weakness of feeling sympathy aside. It doesn't matter, it's
not like their lives mean anything in the great cycle of things.

Easing up a bit, I leer down at the shaking wreck of a man and drop the
spear in front of him. “I said, get up!”

Trembling, he takes the spear and gets to his feet, very careful to point the
weapon away from me. Then he looks at me, fear in his eyes.

I survey our surroundings, searching for a first suitable target. A soldier in

a similar outfit is still alive, just ten metres away from us, so I shove the
worm in that direction, towards the man who is half unconscious and
foaming from the mouth. “That man, kill him!”

“But- he is one of my comrades.” The shaking man clutches the spear to

his chest.

“What do I care!? I tried to leave, but I just appeared in front of some

other poor beggar, then I was teleported back to you! Apparently, I have to
help you, or I’ll be just teleported to the next sod!” I scream at him,
causing him to flinch like a scolded child. “You called me to this place in
order to kill people! Do you really think that the gods discern one worm
from another!?” I point at the incapacitated man. “Kill him!”

He steps back. “You should listen to yourself. You don’t make any sense.”

“I don’t make any sense!?” I look down at the incapacitated man. “He says
I don’t make any sense.” Returning my attention to the trembling
spearman, I scream. “I don’t have to make any sense to you! I am an
immortal being beyond your comprehension! And because of certain
circumstances, I am forced to listen to you!”

Bending over, I drop Fluffers to the ground and pick up the downed man at
his chest piece. He struggles, but I break his arms like twigs and he
screams. Then I notice that they all scream, the conscious survivors on the
battlefield are screaming. Where there was previously a melody of war
and steel, there is now a hymn of pain and desperation. And both sides are
taking part in it.

I rip off an ear from the struggling man, claw away a pound of flesh.
Sometime during my work, the spearman bends over and pukes on the
floor. It takes me a minute, but when I am done, there are only bits and
pieces left.

Fluffers meows and waddles closer to the puddle of blood, lapping at it

and ignorant to the scene of me carving a mortal apart with my bare
fingers as if he is nothing more than a piece of clay. “I already tried to
change this world once. A thousand years of peace, of enlightenment and
learning! And look at you people now! You are back to fighting each other
with swords! I don't even dare to ask for the reason of this battle!”

Turning, I point a bloody finger at the spearman. “If you refuse another
order, I’ll do the same thing to you!”

His face loses the last bit of colour and he nods, sinking to his knees in
submission. “I have sinned, for I didn't recognize the bane of the Mirai. A
thousand years of tyranny weren't simply forgotten. The stories all say that
the Necromantic Empress had a familiar, a ghostcat. I called upon powers
beyond me and this is what I reap. Forgive me for not recognizing you. I
thought you were a woman, at least that's what the stories tell.”

“I am a man!” I kick the sorry excuse of a worm. “Don't question the

affairs of those beyond you.”

“Forgiveness!” He grovels around his knees, worshipping me. “The affairs

of the gods are beyond mortals. If the Necromantic Bane was a former
avatar of yours, then I am not to judge.”

I ball my fists in rage and frustration. Great! Now, this worm thinks that I
am some sort of gender-confused transvestite! I would like to see him
being reborn as a female slave. In my opinion, throwing a temper tantrum
against the world was a perfectly reasonable reaction! Not that I have
anything against one gender or the other, I just feel more at home as a
man.

Most of the time, a reincarnating soul also gets a vessel that fits. Like,
nine out of ten times you end up in a suitable body. But there must be
some glitch in the system, because once in a while you end up fucked –
quite literally!

Ripping the worm apart would be so satisfying. I could go through the

whole battlefield, but without witnesses, the stupid amulet will just keep
summoning me from one place to another.

I'll just end up in front of the next idiot. The sooner I teach them the
proper amount of fear, the faster I get back to taking care of my own
business. I'll break this idiot and make sure that those who find him see
the terror in his eyes from a kilometre away.

Pointing somewhere behind the worm, I select the next closest survivor of
my aura outburst. “There is another one over there. Get going.”

Suddenly eager to follow my orders, he crawls in the indicated direction

before he gets to his feet. “H- how many will you have me kill before you
are satisfied?”

I purse my lips and stretch out my senses, trying to sort the living from the
dead. “Let's start with the five thousand and seventy-two people who
survived my outburst.” I don't bother counting how many are already dead
on the ground.

With that, we begin the gruesome work and I make sure to give the guy
my special treatment. At first, the worm was reluctant to follow my
instructions, which made me wonder how a person like him could end up
on a brutal battlefield.

But under my tutelage, he got the gist of my intentions quite quickly. I

explained in great detail what I would do to people who caused me to
appear in front of them, be it because of a prayer or a curse.
Similar scenes repeated themselves throughout the following days, and as
I was forcefully teleported around the world, I noticed that the
unavoidable chaos which came with the advent of the gods slowly
subsided. Some countries fell apart during those days and new powers
used the opportunity to rise. I never paid much attention and only ever did
the bare minimum to satisfy the amulet, leaving my so-called worshippers
with the wish to never summon me again.

It took some time, but finally, the mortals got the hint that something
world-changing had happened. The gods were real, and a prayer or a curse
– spoken with enough devotion – could quite literally bring down heaven
or hell on their heads.

After a few days – which felt endless to me – the stupid world

enchantment finally decided that I should get some time off. Or rather,
Tjenemit decided that he wanted to speak to us.

I appeared in Studio 7, among the other gods and with Tjenemit standing
in front of us, writing something in his notes. Looking up, he quickly
counts us with his pencil. “Perfect! All of you are alive! We had a few
glitches with the teleportation settings. You probably noticed that the
enchantment just kept teleporting you to your next assignment? That was
intentional, of course.”

I look down at myself. There are mud and blood sticking to my clothes...
and other stuff. I flick away a torn off fingernail which was sticking to my
trousers. Intentional my ass! Someone fucked up the code. That's a grave
oversight, especially when weaving a spell on that scale.

Pulling at my shirt, I give up on looking presentable. After two days in the

field, I stopped trying to clean myself. How would I build a reputation
which makes my followers fear to summon me when I appear in front of
them naked because I was in the shower? Then there is the little problem
that I never appeared in a nice place. Not once.

Taking a quick glance, I notice that most of the other deities in our little
pantheon look tired and that their clothes aren't exactly in the best state.
Though, some look decent, like Marigold and Nazareth... and the suit of
armour, Myrm was his name? Not that plate armour would need more than
a short wipe-down. Seria also looks decent, though her tight expression
tells me that she is pissed.

Tjenemit continues his speech, “Seeing that most of you managed to build
quite a reputation, I decided to ease up on the amulets' teleportation
conditions. Previously, the parameters for recognizing a 'devoted prayer'
were set quite loosely. I tightened those a bit. Now, you should get a few
hours of rest each day.” He nods and vanishes, taking a pathway to who
knows where.

As soon as he is gone, Seria screams like a fury and hammers her fist
through the table in front of her. “I was teleported to sick and dying people
all day long! Not to mention the births!”

Nazareth wipes a pearl of sweat from his forehead. “Wayshrines all the
way for me. I had to tell lost wanderers the direction they should take. Do
I really look like a navigation tool?”

“Something similar happened to me, brother.” Marigold pats the gnome on

his back. “I had to guide the uncivilised races on their path to war. We are
both nature-oriented deities, so this usage of our time feels quite
offending.”

Other gods join in, sharing their own stories of how they had to suffer and
endure the presence of lesser beings.

Myrm nods, his movements seeming tired. “Yes, but didn’t any of you
notice how much bad stuff is happening in that world? I know that the
place is a crossroad of pathways, and therefore has a lot of strong souls in
it, which in turn leads to a lot of battle and strife. But I was teleported
from one horrible event to the other, some of them potentially world
ending! First a battlefield with an insane paladin who murdered all his
comrades and tried to create a bloodrite on an epic scale. And it didn’t end
there. Necromantic plagues, mutated wizards whose demon summonings
backfired, a mad scientist who tried to use magic to create a nuke!”
“I actually was fond of that guy,” I interject. “Hope you didn't kill him. If
there is one thing for which I can forgive people summoning me, then it’s
the pursuit of knowledge, so I told him where he went wrong.”

The room falls silent and I realize that I spoke out loud.

Myrm shoots to his feet. “You told him to blow up the elven capital!?”

I raise both hands in defence. “I did nothing of the sort! I just told him
how to get his device to work! How should I know that he wants to use it
against his own people?” Or that he has no idea what would happen if it
activates. I might have forgotten to tell him that there is no limiter on his
matter to mana conversion tool. “That aside, who cares for elves? They
always get the snotty souls. And before you blame me.” I point at myself.
“God of Chaos and Magic. Is it really my fault what others do with the
knowledge? I just answer questions.”

“Yes!” Myrm calls out. “The people on this world aren’t ready for nukes
or any other weapon of mass destruction! Especially not when the Council
just turned their world upside down by making gods real! The world is in
chaos because of us.”

I dismiss the argument with a wave of my hand. “I know, I know. And

Prometheus was chained to a stone for bringing the mortals the fire. I have
seen that particular world go through centuries of strife. It’s an unending
cycle that can only be halted temporarily.”

Seria groans and gets up. “Sit down, Myrm. As insane as it sounds, that’s
why Tjenemit gave Ascathon this job.” She looks at me, pulling down the
corners of her mouth. “He is just too good at it, and I hope that he will try
to avoid doing world-ending stuff.”

I nod. Seria may not be my official boss, but I know that she has
connections to the Council. Better not to draw the ire of someone like that.

Then she addresses the whole room. “As much as we dislike it, we are in
this together. Let’s at least try to work with each other. The Council set this
up so that we are forced to get involved in the world, but nobody said that
we have to make our lives miserable for each other. Maybe, just maybe,
we manage not to step on each other’s toes?”

Sighing, I lean forward and place my face on my table, which is situated to

the far right of the room. “Wake me up when you are done… or when the
stupid amulets start teleporting us once more.”

I must have fallen asleep, because when I wake up I am falling forward

and only my quick reaction saves me from planting my face on a dirty
street. Groggily, I try to understand what’s going on. Then I remember the
amulet around my neck and the ordeal it caused. The stupid thing must
have teleported me somewhere. Again! Will I ever get a few hours of rest?

At least it isn’t another battlefield, or some dirty ritualist’s cave.

Though, my current surroundings don’t look much better. I am on a wide

street between two large, wooden buildings. Apparently, the locals are
using it as some sort of marketplace. There are countless vendors shouting
out their goods and prices while a steady stream of people meanders in
both directions.

Most of them look poor in their shabby clothes, but there are also those
who are clearly upper-class citizens in their fine robes and with expensive
jewellery. Without exception, those individuals are guarded by several
guards as they busily pursue some unknown goal.

Turning, I notice a frail girl in a small cage right next to me. Her aura is
strong, but she is still a mortal. The collar around her neck and the
shackles leave me without a doubt what the random assembly of cages and
the wooden platform in front of me mean. On the platform, a mean
looking fella is lounging on a stool like a king, waiting for someone to
show interest in his goods.

Nobody seems to have noticed my arrival.

“They didn’t lie,” the slave in front of me says. “They said that the gods
have returned and that they now intervene in the mortal world.” She grabs
the bars of her cage and presses her face against her prison. “They were
warning us not to pray or to curse, but I didn’t listen. For a whole week, I
wished for you to be here.”

“Oi, kiddo.” I shake my head. “Do you have any idea who you summoned?
I am not a hero in shining armour. I don’t do the saving. When I appear,
things go to hell, quite literally!”

Her eyes flash in anger. “I don’t want to be saved! I want them to hurt. I
want them to suffer! And I don’t care if I go with them as long as I see
them scream. You have the power to do that! I thought for a long time
about to whom I should pray. To Myrm, who fights for the light and the
law which landed me in this cage? Or to Seria, who can only ship me to
the afterlife? Or maybe to the one who burned down this world and built
anew one from its ashes? They all curse you, you know? But my mother
was a teacher before we lost everything because of our debt. She showed
me the true historical accounts, and the Mirai were a great people. They
had strict laws, yes, but no slavery.”

I study the girl who can’t be older than fourteen. She is a real
blabbermouth for her age. My eyes involuntarily wander into the distance
as her situation reminds me of one I found myself in. Being a slave is no
fun indeed. I notice her swollen belly, probably to be expected in a
situation like hers. Most of the slavers I know like to test the goods if
there isn’t a promise that they will sell for much more in an untouched
state.

The seller notices me and gets up from his stool. “Hey, no talking to the
goods. Either you buy, or you leave.” With a lumbering step, he
approaches and I smile.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a gold coin and fling it into the air,
catching it with ease. “How much? I am afraid that your sorry excuse of a
merchandise will require a lot of change.”

The man’s eyes are drawn to the shining metal, gaining a glint of their
own. “Fifty silver. She may be used, but she is young. You will also get
two for the price of one if you buy her now.”
I look down at the slave. “I may get two, but one of them will be a useless
mouth to feed. As I see it, that lowers the price significantly. How about
giving her to me for free?”

“Just kill the lil bugger when it’s outside and you have no expenses,” he
suggests. “Or pay a good healer and cut it out.”

I study the coin in my hand and fling it from one hand to the other,
deciding that I’ve heard enough.

While the asshole’s eyes are still following the piece of shiny metal, I
reach out and grab his throat, squeezing his windpipe shut. It takes a great
amount of experience to do it just right, allowing the victim to breathe just
a little bit while ensuring that he can’t scream - and not doing any
permanent damage.

There is no sound, but he struggles as I pull the sharp edge of my special

coin down his forehead, over his eye, and along his cheek, blinding him.
He flails, with twitching urgency, but it's like holding a toddler. I repeat
the process for his other eye, creating two deep ridges of rapidly decaying
flesh in his face.

Then I pull him closer and whisper into his ear. “Tell the world that those
who darken it have to answer to the gods.”

I notice that it’s far too quiet around us and that people are looking in our
direction. The closest of them may even have heard what I said.

Man, I am way too good at this stuff...

I let go of the slaver’s windpipe and he starts screaming while clawing at

his face. Falling, he starts rolling over in the mud as he tries to get away
and pieces of darkened flesh flake from the cursed wounds. Getting up, he
blindly runs down the road and the people part in front of him like water.

I pay the subsequently panicking masses behind me no further attention.

They are of no consequence to me. Instead, I kneel down to get to eye-
level with the girl. “Don’t take this the wrong way. As I said, I am no hero,
and I am not going to save you. What I did to your keeper was simply a
result of him interrupting us. I don’t like being interrupted.”

She nods.

“Good.” I raise the bloody coin so that she can see it. “I’ll give you a
chance to save yourself. Actually, you have three choices. Either you send
me away now and never summon me again – otherwise, I’ll kill you. Or
you let the coin decide. Heads, I’ll kill you now. Tails, I’ll give you the
power to escape.”

“Why the game?” she asks, suspicion clear in her voice.

“Because I like games, and I won’t just help you for free,” I reply, playing
with the slippery piece of metal. “Everyone is the smith of his own fate.”

“I am much better with dice. If we increase the odds, would you be willing
to grant me the power to punish all of them?” She looks me straight into
the eyes.

I huff and use force magic to shape the coin into a little, twenty-sided dice.
“I’ll kill you from one to fifteen, from sixteen upwards, I will grant you
more and more power.”

“How much power?” she asks.

I raise both eyebrows, getting annoyed with how long this is taking. “Do
you really have the time to question whether I’ll help you or not? I am
sure that the city guards are on their way, and if this place gets too
annoying, I’ll just pack up and leave.”

She considers the dice for a moment and then takes the slippery object out
of my fingers.
 Chapter 3

The World
Karin
I take the slippery dice from his fingers, no longer so sure if this was the
best – or the worst – idea I ever had. What rode me when I aspired to
summon a being the adults only dared to whisper about?

When I suggested the dice, I thought it was an incredibly daring all-or-

nothing move, betting on the benevolence of something that isn't known
for its benevolence. Now that I am thinking about it, aren’t I purely
relying on this being’s goodwill? They said that the advent of the gods
created chaos like the world had never seen.

The cities in the south are said to lie in ruins. Whole armies are rumoured
to have been massacred by divine intervention, just because some sod
called out a prayer and was heard. They are saying that calling upon the
gods is to call upon a force of nature. A mortal can only hope that he isn't
in the way when these beings decide to intervene in our fate.

But who am I to tell? I was just helping with my mother's accounts when
they enslaved us. I was never sent to the local temple for theological
studies!

Normally, I would never believe the lies of my captors, but maybe they
aren’t completely wrong? The people on the streets said it too. It isn't like
I heard these stories only from the asshole who was blinded just now in
front of me.
They said that calling on powers beyond one’s control would never end
well.

I weigh the dice in my hand and look up at the god. The metal feels warm
and incredibly heavy for such a small object. It’s the first time that I got to
hold real gold in my hands.

“Well?” the god asks impatiently, almost anticipatory. Of what, I am not

sure. For some reason, I can tell that he doesn't see much more value in me
than in the slaver who he just maimed like he was a bug.

I cast my doubts aside and turn the dice in my fingers, searching for the
number twenty. Then I carefully place the dice on the ground, the twenty
showing up.

“Is this a joke?” he asks, staring down at the dice, then at me as if he can
read my mind, looking directly into my soul. His completely black eyes
are pools of emptiness which seem to suck in the light. I shudder at the
sight of him.

I fidget inside my cage, feeling the need to run, but something tells me
that there is no running, even if I wasn’t locked up.

Then I touch the bars of my prison and I suddenly remember why I am

here. Whatever he may do to me, it can’t be much worse than what fate
had already in store for me. I was to be a slave, a thing to be traded and
killed at my owner's whim. “You didn’t say that I have to throw the dice.”

He looks at me. “I said, let the dice decide.”

I try to correct him. “Actually you said: ‘Let the coin decide.’ And then I
changed it to a dice, and you didn’t correct-” His forehead furrows, and I
lose the confidence to talk back.

“A dice has to be thrown,” he insists. “Did you just change the bet to a
dice instead of a coin, because you thought that I would be impressed by
your reinterpretation of the bet?”
Feeling desperate, I reach out and lift the dice the barest of a millimetre,
letting it drop on the spot. It wobbles for a bit but keeps showing the
number twenty. “There, I threw it.”

Then he covers his face with both his hands. “I am actually not sure if I
like your cheekiness, or if I should just kill you because it will save me a
lot of trouble in the long run.” He sighs. “Fine! But I’ll teach you a lesson
nonetheless for trying to fuck with me.”

My eyes bulge when he takes one bar of my cage in each hand and pries
them apart like paper, creating a more than generous hole for me to leave
the cage.

“Get out.”

I hurry to follow the order, only to be grabbed by my throat when I am

halfway outside. Panicking, I flail as he pulls me out the rest of the way
and throws me onto my back. I squirm, fearing the worst, but he kneels
down on my chest in a not so gentle manner and places a hand on my
forehead, fixing me against the dirty ground.

Screaming, I try to get help, but the streets are empty. Everyone else
proved their wits by running away. They are probably still running, leaving
me and the other slaves behind! Just like they didn't care when they
walked past us on the streets! Fuckers! All of them! They only ever care
about their own hide.

“Shhh. This will just become worse if you resist.”

“What are you doing!?” I squeal, terror creeping back into my voice and
replacing the rage I just felt.

“Giving you the power you wanted.” With a gesture and a grin on his face,
the dice flies into his hand and he raises the bloody thing directly in front
of my eye. In front of my face, the dice opens up, almost as if it had a
mouth, reshaping itself into a ghastly tool, a green light emanating from it.
I squeal like a slaughtered pig when he pushes the dice into my left eye,
probably popping it in the process. A sharp pain drills directly into my
brain, and for a moment it feels like I can see everything. The god’s
shining aura is directly in front of me, almost blinding me to the web of
infinite possibilities and energy that stretches out all around us.

And for a small moment, I understand that there is no good or evil. No

black or white. No light and dark. Those are all concepts made by humans.
Instead, there is just… being. I can't do anything about the certainty of this
realization, about the knowledge that I now wished I had never been aware
of. I was a fool for challenging a god.

It hurts so much, it feels like my mind is falling apart as the god forces
more power into me than I am able to hold.

And so I sink into the darkness. Down into the cold web of pain that
envelopes my entire being.

*Slap!*

I open my eyes and am face to face with a man. No... that's not what he is.
It's the god. “What?” Something licks my cheek, and turn my head to look
at the adorable white kitten... until I realize that I can see through it.

“That's not for eating,” the god chides the cat, waving a warning finger at
the familiar.

Using one arm, he hurls me to my feet. Once I am standing without risk of

falling over right away, he picks up the cat, petting it. “I know that you
didn't have something nice to eat in days. I would also get stomach pains if
I had to eat humans all the time. Much too much fat on those.”

“I-” I croak, trying to cope with my new vision. There are numbers
everywhere. “What are all those numbers? What do the colours mean?” I
look down at myself and a large, green four appears on my chest.

“No clue. You will have to find out for yourself. I used a new form of
clairvoyance magic on you, an experimental vision-spell I was playing
around with for a while. You should be able to see magic with it, see
probabilities. Maybe you will even be able to predict a part of the future?
Who knows. Wild magic is a little finicky in its manifestation. You will
never know the exact outcome,” he explains nonchalantly. Telling me to
the face that he just used me as an experiment.

“But I just wanted power! What use is seeing numbers!?” I complain

before I can stop myself.

Luckily, the god doesn't seem to be offended. “Well, apart from that, I did
some things to strengthen your soul. Either you will pop in the next few
days, or you will be a first real success. Though, you probably don't really
count because you were on your way to ascension anyway. Most souls fail
at some vital crossroad. Ascending on your own is like rolling twenty a
hundred times in a row. What numbers do you see?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, but aside from other numbers,
there is a large, green four when I look down at myself. There are also
numbers in different colours, smaller ones, but the large green ones are
dominant. When I look at you, there is a twenty... and your cat is a nine?”

He mumbles something I don't understand. “Those are most likely power

levels on a logarithmic scale.”

“Log- arit- mik?”

“Ah, feudal societies... just think of a one as the weakest. A two should be
ten times stronger than the one, and a three ten times stronger than the
two. Do you get it? You helped your mother doing the accounts, so you
should be fine with numbers.”

I watch his gaze on me as try to do the math in my head, but I quickly give
up. “That can't be.” I point at him. “That would mean that the kitten could
sneeze at me and I would die!”

He rolls his eyes. “That's the problem with mortals, Fluffy. They see
something and immediately put it into a labelled compartment. Like
thinking that something that looks like a kitten must also be as powerful as
a kitten.” He looks at something behind me. “And there are the city
guards. Time for me to leave.”

“W- wait!” But he vanishes in a shower of sparks, and one of the lines of
power in my vision lights up as his... essence?... is pulled along. Reaching
out, I feel nothing of this insubstantial web which I can see but not touch.

Turning, I check out what the god meant when he mentioned town guards
and true enough, a whole bunch of them is coming up the street. They are
in their usual leather armour and equipped with spears. Moments later I
find myself inside a half-circle, weapons pointed at me.

Blinking, I slowly raise my hands, wondering why they all have zeroes
hovering in front of their chests. The god said that 'one' is the weakest, so
what's a zero supposed to mean?

A man who looks like he is in charge steps forward, pointing a sword at

me. He is a large and broad-shouldered fellow with a big beerbelly, which
immediately lowers my opinion of him. “Don't resist, heretic! You will be
charged for summoning a god with the intention to injure your legal
owner!”

I raise my shackled hands, showing him the chains as rage bubbles up

within me. They dare to accuse me!? “Are you insane!? How could I hurt
anyone like this!?” I point at the other slaves in their cages. “You should
be saving us! You monsters! Not protecting an asshole who buys and sells
people!”

“Shut up! Dirty slave.” The commander steps forward and brings his
sword down on me.

I shriek, seeing my whole, short life flash by. My hands rise involuntarily
to defend against the blow, but it probably just means trading an arm
instead of my head.

Some of his numbers move against mine, as if checking something, and

then his sword bounces off of me like a plush pillow. The both of us are
stunned and I can’t believe that I wasn’t cut down like the peasant I am.
His face flushing red, the commander strikes me two more times before I
realize that I have no problems anticipating his blows. The third time, I
catch the blade and rip it out of his hands.

While he stumbles backwards, I start chuckling, insanity creeping into my

voice. “He didn’t lie. He really gave me the power!”

The commander points at me, hurrying to get behind his men. “Kill her!”

The World
Ascathon
“A bath! A real bath! We didn’t feel so clean in days, Fluffy.”

My pet voices its consent, although much less enthused.

I carry it into Studio 7, grinning from ear to ear. This time, there are much
fewer deities present. There are only Nazareth, Marigold and Seria, who
are standing in front of a large map of the world, which was pinned to the
wall opposite the entrance.

“Guys! You are still working so late?” I grin and check out Seria's heart-
shaped butt, an asset she likes to show off by wearing revealing dresses. I
especially like today's blue bodycon dress. It's a mystery to me why a
blonde bombshell who parades around like that wouldn't want my
attention, but she sneers at me in displeasure when she turns around.

“What do you want?” she asks briskly.

“Nothing. Just a little chat with my co-workers,” I answer, unfazed by her

attitude. That's simply how it is between us.

Her eyes narrow and she snorts. “You only ever try to socialize when you
want something.”
“Oh, fine.” I sigh. “I just wanted to know the current status quo.”

“Had you not fallen asleep, you would know.” She crosses her arms in
front of her chest, barring my view.

“Have mercy on me. I am just some poor conscripted evildoer. Don't hate
me for being who I am. It's Tjenemit's fault for forcing me into this gig. If
it weren't for him, you wouldn't see or hear anything of me.”

Finally, Marigold has some mercy on me. “Truth be told, we didn't get
much done before the teleportation terror started again.”

“Teleportation Terror, I like that!” I quip, and the half-orc glares at me.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, I decide to apologize for

interrupting. “Sorry. Please continue.”

“As you can probably imagine, having two dozen people with demanding
personalities in the same room isn't easy. We tried to sort out various
conflicts between the gods, but quickly had to admit that that's impossible.
It's hard to argue a point when both sides are just doing their job. In the
end, we decided that Seria would play our spokesperson for now, and that
we would sort out any real issues among the whole pantheon,” he finishes
his explanation.

I wave my hand. “So the only real rules remain the same as Tjenemit first
stated?”

“Yes,” Seria admits. “Though, I think that's a terribly inefficient way of

dealing with it. Conflicts are bound to happen between deities with polar
opposites and we need a way to resolve those conflicts. Tjenemit already
barred us from fighting each other, which wasn't a bad idea. Otherwise, the
planet would lie in ruins within days. I only think that the opposite won't
work for long either. Handling every case on a first come, first serve basis
also has the potential to spiral out of control.”

“Hm.” I nod. “You mean, what happens when the god of love is summoned
by the neglected mistress, and then the god of hate is summoned by the
betrayed wife... or something of that sort. Is one god allowed to undo the
work of another? Quite the dilemma... but I think I have a solution for
that.”

“You have?” Nazareth perks up.

“Yes.” I display my hands in a helpless gesture. “If I am able to do

something about the problem, then I will. If I can't, then I can't. I think you
guys are getting too caught up in this god-nonsense. Ultimately, that's not
what Tjenemit wants from us. He wants us to identify candidates for
ascendancy before they manage to awaken on their own. The Council
doesn't care about a few mortals. Just see yourselves as a force of nature
and do what the mortals want. Who cares if their wishes land them in
devil's kitchen?”

They regard me, not looking convinced at all.

“The other solution would be for all of us to select a few avatars who
represent us and have them battle it out.” Which I already did... 'cause...
who wouldn't do such an obvious thing when you are barred from fighting
openly? Not that I want the other gods to come to the same conclusion.
“But that would be childish, wouldn't it?”

Marigold pulls down the corners of his mouth, appalled. “Let's not do
that.”

I clap my hands together, relieved that they are apparently above such
things. Less competition for me. “Fine! Then what else is new?”

We continue our chat for quite some time until Nazareth is called away by
the world enchantment, probably to show some poor sod the way home.
The conversation dies down afterwards, and both Seria and Marigold
decide to take care of their own business.

Which leaves me to myself. Well, there is Fluffy, but my companion can

only be so much entertainment. I retrieve a pocket watch from my robes
and realize that a few hours passed since I started my newest experiment. I
sure took my time in the bath.
Time to check in on how the test subject is doing. So I allow my instincts
to choose the right pathway and return to...

Okay...

A town no more...

Looking around, I try to find something recognizable among the

smouldering rubble, the burned corpses, slaughtered guards, thrashed
buildings. It takes a few moments to take in the devastation.

“Ooh, quite the busy student you are, young padawan. Who would have
thought that the little girl has so much potential for the dark side?” I
mumble to myself while I walk in the direction from which I sense the
most power, passing a screaming peasant who is missing everything
beneath his hips.

The girl who I bestowed some power on turned out to be quite an energetic
lass. The whole time we talked, she seemed so full of doubt and fear.

I didn't suspect that she would really just... fucking kill everything in sight!

Some furry things like dogs and rats impede my path, and I notice that
Karin didn't spare even the pets. Talk about how granting mortals some
power can mess up their heads...

I step over a corpse which was torn in half, careful not to sully my shoes.
A few mice scurry away from the free meat, and Fluffy perks up,
following them very attentively with his ears. A little further away, a pile
of corpses was erected, the bodies carelessly thrown on top of each other.
Dogs and a few carrion birds are already gouging themselves the banquet.

Taking my time, I make a big circle around the obstacle which seems to be
a study in gruesomeness. My evasive path turns out to be a futile attempt
to go easy on my sense of smell. Scenes of carnage are nothing new to me,
but I have no innate need to revel in the results.
I find my pupil hacking away on the squealing body of some paladin – or
at least a fellow who looks like one. The silver plate armour, filled with
religious symbols, doesn't allow for a wide range of interpretation.

What's even more obvious, is that the girl is tired. Her swings barely cut
into the man's armour, but she persists nonetheless, chopping away on him
like on some piece of wood.

That's when I become witness to a minor miracle. My apprentice's victim

raises his hand in a feeble gesture towards the sky and spouts some
pleading nonsense about Order and God, then a sudden flash of brilliant
white conjures Myrm right in front of my eyes. His arrival is accompanied
by a flash of light and a wave of force which shoves the girl back.

Myrm looks around, seeming as disorientated as I am when the world

enchantment decides to fuck with me. “By the nine hells! This is a
massacre! Who did this!?”

He finds his worshipper on the ground, then the girl who is trying to get to
her feet, and then his eyes land on me. “Youuu...”

I give him a wave. “Hi!”

“Are you responsible for this!?” Myrm walks towards me, the loose visor
of his helmet bobbing a little, so he quickly adjusts it. It begs the question
whether Myrm is making a habit of living inside his suit...

I consider the idea... and find it not so incongruous, given our situation of
being teleported anywhere at any moment.

“Nonono. Stay right there and keep calm.” Shaking my head, I deny the
accusation with vim and vigour. “I did nothing of the sort. If you would
allow me to explain, then you would see yourself that this scene doesn't
need your intervention. In fact, you should thank us for doing your job.”

Myrm stops haltingly, then looks back at his worshipper who points an
accusing finger at the girl who is dragging her sword over the ground,
towards him. “D- D- Demon! She massacred everyone!”
Myrm turns around to intercept my experiment, but I step forward and
stop him by holding onto his shoulder. “You should really know the whole
story before you intervene.”

Surprisingly, he turns around and listens while I explain the chain of

events to him. For the time being, we ignore the two mortals who are
trying to kill each other. It even looks like we can come to a mutual
understanding, right up until he shakes his head.

“You are probably right that the girl has reasons to behave as she does, but
if you aren’t lying, then she needs help!” He points at me. “Instead of
helping her, you gave a mentally unstable individual a gun and let her
loose among unarmed people! You are the worst person I ever met! I
should kill you and-”

The head of the paladin bounces off Myrm’s helmet and the both of us turn
our attention to the girl and the beheaded corpse to her feet.

“Fuck off, whichever god you are! I already got everything I ever wanted
and if you were good for anything, then you wouldn’t appear to help
people who enslave others! Do you have any idea what they did to us?
What I had to do when they... Mom... when they...” She starts sobbing
incoherently.

“You failed to help your worshipper...” I mumble. But then again… the
guy was just some mortal. Not someone who deserved any attention.

Even beneath his helmet, Myrm looks almost offended. “I never said I
would. And if you aren’t lying and telling me a whole shitload of crap,
then these people are misguided in their beliefs.” He steps towards the
girl. “Come with me. I will bring you to a place of healing where they can
deal with illnesses of the mind.”

Surprising even me, the girl spits at Myrm. Then, before the shocked god
of Order can react, she stabs her own blade into her pregnant belly,
twisting it around in a manner that can only result in death. Reaching
inside herself, she pulls, creating a horrible mess as her innards and a baby
spill out of her as she falls to her knees, screaming.
On a scale of gruesome, fucked-up ways of committing suicide, I silently
applaud and give the girl a ten out of ten.

Myrm reaches up, trying to cover his mouth, but the visor is in the way.
“Child, what did you do?” Myrm is at her side in an instant, casting an
ineffective healing spell. “Why is my magic not working?”

I scratch the stubble of my beard, unsure of what to say. “I suppose it’s

because you are obviously really bad at healing magic. No, you outright
suck at spells! How did you become a god? No, forget it. Are you sure that
you are a god of light? Ah, and my own spells might be interfering with
yours. I laid a pretty dense set of experimental enchantments on her.”

Myrm lowers the child to the ground, almost motherly, even as the girl
takes her last breath as she is bleeding out. Being gutted tends to do that to
a person quite quickly.

“This is all your doing.” He looks around at the ruins. “You are a monster.
Don’t you feel anything at seeing this?”

I survey our surroundings, indulging Myrm by making a show of taking a

good, long look.

Then I shrug. “They are just mortals. Do you care about the ants beneath
your shoes?” I look down at my experiment. “But if you really want to
know what I feel, I am intrigued. I actually might like the girl! She has
guts!”

Ahem... her guts are now all on the floor, but I think Myrm knows the
expression. Stepping closer, I take the corpse out of Myrm’s arms, despite
sullying myself. Then I walk away.

“What are you going to do? Where are you taking her?”

Turning around, I regard my opposite. “You still don’t understand why the
other gods are so afraid of my soul magic?” I grin. “It’s because even
death is no escape. Not for my minions, and certainly not for my
enemies.” Winking, I take a pathway.
 Chapter 4

The World
Ascathon
I appear in my hidden hideout, humming happily as I carry the corpse
down a long corridor and into my laboratory. My personal place is a huge,
hollowed-out cavern deep down in the world's crust, layered so heavily
with protection spells that pretty much nobody has access to it. It's only
possible to enter by using the pathways and by knowing exactly where to
go. It's my little safe-haven, though I have a suspicion that it won't help
me against the Council's world-enchantment.

That would require me to disconnect this place completely from the flow
of energy which links the amulet around my neck to the world. I suppose it
would be possible if my laboratory didn't happen to be on the exact same
world on which the Council stationed me for their experiment.

I take a moment to ponder that little fact. Out of the countless worlds
throughout the multiverse, they chose exactly the place where I set up my
hideout. It's possible that they simply made their choice based on the
assumption that I have a hidden base on this world. But throughout the
centuries I have learned to always make my decisions based on the worst
possible scenario. That would mean that they can track my movements and
know where I tend to disappear to. Which means that they know about my
hideout, but can't enter it without causing attention or expending a lot of
energy. Somehow I doubt that people with an ego like Tjenemit's would
hold back on educating me on my weaknesses.
If he could, he would already be here and lording it over me like some
petulant bully.

Not to mention El Shaddai, the leader of the Council. If there is an

opportunity to make someone weaker than him kowtow, then he takes it.
The only grace is that I hopefully went beneath their radar up until now.
The only Council member who I was unfortunate enough to have regular
contact with is Tjenemit. He is powerful, yes, but at the same time, he
isn’t the brightest of the bunch.

I look down at the pale body in my arms. One might think that she is
already dead, but thanks to my enchantments there is still a spark of life in
there. Karin impressed me by gouging out her own innards, proving that
her hatred for whatever was done to her is stronger than her will to live.
She even was ready to abandon the life that was growing inside of her.

A move I would have also taken, had I been raped.

When she negotiated with me I took a few short glimpses into her mind
and what I saw was a confused child who had to endure more than
someone her age should. I guess that’s also why she isn’t behaving like a
child her age should. Just by looking at her, I can tell that her soul is
strong. In her past lives, she must have become pretty strong several
times, but she hasn't quite reached the threshold that's necessary to keep
some of her memories.

While Fluffy is scurrying around the room, innocently playing with some
of its toys which are splayed out on the floor, I put Karin down on an
operating table in the left section of my lab.

Even if I revived Karin right now with healing magic, there would
probably be too much brain damage for her soul to connect properly with
her physical body. So, first I have to repair the damage and improve on
some things.

Luckily, I acquired some pretty nifty gadgets from other worlds. The
multiverse is full of crafty people, so a god just has to know where to go
when he needs something. There are worlds out there which are so
advanced that even medicine is sold in form of neat, automated devices.

I have pretty much no clue about biology, medicine, or healing altogether,

so having a stash of this equipment is always handy.

All I have is a high-level healing spell which I learned from a powerful

priest. Then I trained it for months until I started casting it half asleep.
There is also some of the necromantic knowledge which was imparted on
me by an immortal benefactor who I always regarded as family. Sadly, she
vanished and I never found out where she went, something that happens to
a lot of new gods.

I have an inkling that the Council is responsible, but there is no proof.

Getting to work, I get girl's body cleaned up and inject her with some
medicine-injector that's supposed to help with cell regeneration. Though,
one of the medical scanners informs me that the damage is so extensive
that I should consider replacing her innards altogether. Wandering off, I
rummage through the forlorn hall, searching through my impressive
assembly of abandoned experiments.

Good twenty minutes later, I return with a large, red orb. It's a monster
core which I ripped out of a dragon patriarch who crossed me.

Some of the more powerful creatures in the multiverse develop a core of

solid mana crystal which interfaces with their bodies. It's a weakened
version of the true, blue mana crystals which can be found at the middle of
all things.

In my research, I gathered several of these cores, since they seem to be the

key to artificially created mana crystals.

Creatures with such cores also have it indefinitely easier to manipulate

mana. On the other hand, a core is a big weakness that will be targeted by
enemies who know about it, so I am not a fan of having one. For the girl,
though, it will be a big upgrade and help in healing her body.
After inserting the core into her abdomen, I attach her to various healing
machines which should aid in blood regeneration and cell replacement. To
aid the process, I get a med-kit from a technologically advanced world.

Upon placing the robot in the form of a suitcase on her chest, the machine
unfolds like a cage above her and starts automatically administering first-
aid. I watch as the med-kit sews her wounds shut after scanning her body.

Spending a minute to ensure that there won't be any scars, I watch the
process and use some of my necromantic knowledge to rid the girl's body
of some of its mortal flaws.

Then, all that's left to do is to wait for her to wake up.

Scowling at my hands, I turn to Fluffy, who is licking up some of the gore

which dripped off the operating table. “We both need a bath.”

Bending down, I try to pick up the kitten, but find myself under a dark
night's sky.

“Not again!”

My scream resounds wide and loud through the empty wilderness around
me. Groaning, I get back up to deal with whatever shit the world
enchantment decided to throw at me. I guess that I should be happy that I
wasn’t interrupted while operating on Karin.

I am inside a pentagram made out of blood, most likely taken from the
group of moaning and crying mortals who are lying in their death throes
just a few feet away.

“God! Ascathon, you heard my plea!”

A man in black plate armour falls to his knees, grovelling in front of me

and giggling madly. “Ever since you answered my call, I tried to gain your
attention for further instruction!”

Watching him squirm, I get the feeling that he doesn’t have all his marbles
together. I clear my throat, not certain of what to say. “Who are you?”
He looks up, but his non-distinct face rings no bells. No wonder, because I
tend to remember most mortals by their clothes. It's easier that way. For
example, torn rags are easiest remembered as generic peasant A, or,
people in leather armour as random soldier Z. Though... black plate
armour is new.

“I am too unworthy of your indoctrination? I beg you to forgive me! In my

quest for seeing you again, I weathered storms and monsters, bandits and
even other gods! It’s a miracle that I survived!”

“I see,” I grumble. It slowly dawns on me that this might be the warrior

who I first met when this whole debacle began. I kind of flipped out that
day and gave my best to break him, having him massacre enemies and
comrades alike, just to teach him the folly of mortals.

“I set out on a quest after receiving your guidance! In your name, I slew
everyone who wished to exert their will over others!”

“That's good,” I answer, hoping that he gets on with it.

“I struck them down in the most heinous ways, ensuring that their
suffering isn't over quickly!” He points at the group of moaning people. “I
even started recruiting for a holy order in your name! The Knights of
Chaos will spread your will into the farthest corners of the land! We will
tear down the suppression of the light wherever we can find it!”

Okay, let's take a step back. I think this guy didn't get the hint. I never
wanted a group of people to pray to me. “Stop it. Didn't I tell you that I
don't want to be worshipped? You were supposed to make sure that people
don't summon me randomly!”

“Yes, and I thought long and hard about how to accomplish such a twisted
task. Because, which god doesn't want to be acknowledged? That's when I
realized that only if people actually believe in you, they won't accidentally
summon you like I did! When I called upon you the first time, I also didn't
actually expect to be answered. Hence, I gathered a group of people and
indoctrinated them to spread your teachings.”
Does that mean that there are already mortals running all over the place,
preaching in my name!? I open my mouth to protest but stop myself just in
time.

I raise a hand but fail to find the weakness in his twisted logic. The fellow
has a few screws loose, but he is right that the random summons won't
stop if people aren't aware that I am real. If they believe in me, then at
least the coincidental summons won't happen that frequently... which gives
me more time to take care of my own stuff.

“Okay, maybe you are right,” I admit. “How do you intend to spread my
word?”

“With my battle-ax, my lord! We will split their heads and chop off their
arms, just like you taught me to!” He hefts his oversized weapon which
was lying next to him, a wicked two-bladed halberd. I refrain from
educating him on the differences between an axe and a halberd.

“We will propagate the freedom of thought, fighting oppression with

violence of the most heinous sort! We will bath in their blood until even
the most wicked of them realize the errors of their ways!”

I don't think that will actually work, but just maybe it will? It can't hurt me
to let him do as he pleases... for now. “Okay. We will do the following. You
will found this Order, and then you will build me a castle as the base of a
new, enlightened country. Inside it, there will be a temple, dedicated to
me.” That should keep him busy for a while. “Then you can call me again
and I will give you a set of rules of how to proceed.”

And if he fails and dies, then that's one problem off my mind.

The World
Karin
I awoke in something akin to a grotto.

The cool air causes me to shiver as I notice the cold metal on my naked
skin. Surveying my surroundings, I freeze in shock at the sight of beeping
artefacts with blinking lights, some of them connected to me. I look down
on myself in horror, counting dozens of needles stabbed through my skin.
Did someone try to torture me while I was unconscious?

Then the memories come back and I shudder, hoping that everything was
just a bad dream. Though, another part of me wishes at the same time that
it was real. That I had succeeded in punishing those who had wronged me
and my family. That I had brought down hell upon them with my own
hands.

And then I committed suicide.

Strange, shouldn't I hurt much more than I do? Do dead people feel pain? I
pat down my body, which feels fine aside from the needles. Suddenly, I
remember that I was stupid enough to strike a bargain with a deity who
was associated with necromancy and undeath!

But to my surprise, I find no definite proof of being some kind of zombie.

My skin is smooth and unblemished, bare of any scars. Even the birthmark
next to my belly button is gone. Though a little pale, my previously
anorexic body is now almost healthy. Any signs of the months of slavery I
had endured were gone. For some reason, my body was now in a perfect
condition.

But my clothes were still a gory reminder of what had transpired.

So I didn't dream.

My hands start shaking as I try to pull out some of the needles which
connect me through tubes to various artefacts, unknown fluids flowing
through them. This isn’t some kind of afterlife. Someone put me back
together.

“Meow?”
I stiffen and look down at where the sound came from. The god’s kitten is
sitting there, looking up at me with its head tilted.

“You gave me a fright.” I sigh in relief and continue my work, trying to

ignore the strangeness of my surroundings. The cavern looks too unnatural
for me to be comfortable with it. The walls are far away, but even from a
distance, I can see that they are too smooth. Then there is the ground
which looks like obsidian. Is this truly a cave, or am I inside a building?
But shouldn’t a building have windows?

Glancing up, I study the unnatural lights at the ceiling which illuminate
the large space with more power than any candle could. I’ve seen
magicians use magic to summon light-globes, but they always had to
power the spell personally. There are stories about ancient magitech which
is capable of feats which seem impossible with today’s standards. Many
adventurers explore the ruins of ancient civilisations to gather the
remnants our predecessors left behind.

But I am just a village girl. All I can go by are the stories I heard from
others.

My silent musings are interrupted by the appearance of the god. Out of

nowhere, he appears in a flash of sparks and flicks my forehead with a
finger.

“Are you trying to undo all my work?” He looks down at the kitten. “Do
you see that? You save someone and they repay you by trying to kill
themselves.” Taking one of the many artefacts on the table with the
blinking lights next to us, he aims it at me.

“You are lucky. It seems like you haven’t undone any of my work with
your hastiness to get up.” He puts the instrument aside.

“Wh- What would have happened?” I ask, unsure of how to address him.

“I would have had to redo everything of course… and this time you
wouldn’t have had the luxury of being unconscious.” He gestures for me to
get up.
“What did you do to me? What do you want? I- I never told you to save
me.” The words are out before I can stop myself.

He shakes his head, looking mirthful. “It seems like we have a slight
misunderstanding. The gods aren’t under some kind of compulsion to help
mortals. Well, we are, but as you probably heard, the mortal’s well-being
is secondary to us. There is a deeper meaning to our reasons, and I care not
a bit about a single person’s fate. Now, get up and follow me while I
explain your situation.”

I do as told and get to my feet, feeling a little strange. My body’s

movements are a little off and it’s only then that I realize that I somehow
grew a few centimetres. It doesn’t change the fact that the strange man is
still towering above me.

Now that I get a real look at his handsome face, I realize that his short-cut
hair is as black as the fine leather he is wearing. At some point, he cleaned
himself up, now looking more like a real god. His choice of wardrobe is a
mixture of leather and a robe, all kept in black.

His eyes though, two orbs of dark emptiness which seem to suck in all the
light. They draw me in like a noble’s jewels at the market. More so, I can’t
look away.

He nods, gesturing for me to follow, weaving a path through the artefacts

inside the grotto. “Your determination impressed me. I gave you the
power, but I never thought you capable of burning down that village. And
ripping out the flesh of your own body just to-”

“Please stop!” I call out, not wanting to remember any of it. My hands ball
into fists and my whole body shakes in rage as I am reminded of my
weakness, my inability to protect myself. “It will never happen again.
Before that, I’ll kill myself. Now I know that I can do it! Just tell me why
you brought me back,” I whisper.

He waves his hand in a circling gesture. “I wanted to make you an offer

you can’t refuse. Become my assistant and help me handle my affairs on
this world. You will speak in my name and spread my will. Of course, you
need to be taught first.”

I look down at the floor, trying to sort out the implications of such an
offer. “I would become like the necromantic empress? The Mirai princess
who conquered the world and ruled it for a thousand years? They said she
was a god but was she, in reality, your puppet?” I look down, searching the
floor for the ghost-cat which is a trademark for the Mirai necromancers. In
every story, the Mirai always appear with their familiars, ghost cats. But
the fluffy thing is nowhere to be seen.

“Ha!” He snorts and deviates from his previous path. “Let me show you
something. The faster you get the reality of things, the easier it will be for
me. First, there are other worlds out there. Countless worlds! Second, there
is something you would call an immortal soul. The strength of the soul
determines your lot in life. There are mortals, like you. If you die, you
enter the stream of souls. Some also call it the white planes. There, you are
nothing more than energy, drifting through the multiverse until you find a
proper anchor point in reality, a physical body. Once you reincarnate on
one of the countless worlds by being reborn, you may or may not retain the
memories of your past life or lives.”

He continues his mad speech, dropping more information on me than I can

handle at the moment. But I don’t dare to interrupt him, so that means to
just shut up and listen to whatever he is willing to share.

“Mortals, such as you, have the shittiest lot. They forget everything during
the reincarnation process and have to start as clean slates. Then there are a
lucky few who managed to live very long lives several times in a row,
allowing their soul to grow stronger and become more deeply connected to
the physical plains. Those people may become immortals at some point,
people who remember their past lives.

“Once an immortal breaks through the threshold which separates their

physical anchor from their soul, they gain access to immense power. They
are able to tap into the streams of power which connect the entire
multiverse, the pathways. As far as mortals are concerned, those beings
may as well be gods. They hold enough power at their fingertip to lay
waste to entire worlds.”

We walk in silence, and I realize that he is giving me time to come to

terms with what he just said. “Excuse me, but that’s not how the temple
teaches it. They say that depending on your deeds, you will end up in
heaven or hell...”

“Pah!” He waves his hand. “Do you want to believe the guy who is able to
actually take your soul, or the charlatans who are trying to befuddle your
wits and turn you into a compliant little slave?”

There isn’t much to think about. “The one who can hold souls in his
hands?”

“Good choice!” He grumbles. “Where were we? Oh, right! Souls. I only
chose you because I see potential in you to become like me. Otherwise, I
would never bother myself with a mortal. They die and then they are gone.
Become too attached to them and you will end up with a broken heart.
That brings me back to dying. Avoid that at all costs. Like I said, even
immortals pay the price of reincarnation with lost memories and the
earlier in life you die, the steeper the price becomes.”

We arrive at two large glass-tubes, large enough to hold a human. One is

empty, but inside the other is a woman so beautiful that I am left
speechless. With pale skin and raven-black hair, she could as well be the
god’s sister. Dressed in a regal regalia made out of gold, even in her
seemingly comatose state, she makes my breath stutter just by watching
her.

“Let me introduce you. Nova Mirai, the bane of the world, as they now call
me. The one who told the idiots up above that slavery and suppression of
free will is bad and all the other things they didn’t want to hear.” He
wriggles his fingers mockingly. “And as it stands, my former body. Until I
decided to kill myself.”

I force my eyes away from the glass sarcophagus and look at him. “Didn’t
you just say that dying is bad? And why are you a man now?” That hints at
some peculiarities to his character I could have gone without knowing.

“Yes.” He scratches his chin. “But I had my reasons for killing myself.
Scientific ones and the hope to escape the Council. Alas, that didn’t work
as planned. Nonetheless, I am happy to be a man again.” Waving his hand,
he gestures for me to turn around. “But that isn’t important to you. The
reason I showed you this was just to make a point of my teachings.
Reincarnation always fucks with you, so don’t try it for fun.”

If he means that it fucks with someone’s mind, then I’ll gladly accept the
warning. He has to know.

He guides me to another part of the grotto, where its ceiling lowers down
and the walls narrow into a long corridor. I realize that the grotto itself is a
tear-shaped space and that we are now leaving through the tip of the tear.

To each side of the corridor are doors, and the obsidian floor is replaced
with an elaborate and expensive looking carpet. It makes the area far more
hospitable than the dark and ominous grotto.

The god gives me a quick introduction, pointing at doors as we walk.

“These lead to storage spaces. Then we have a pool and sanitary facilities,
followed by living quarters and a kitchen to the left. Personal bedrooms to
the right. Pick any you want, except for the first two. They are already in
use and won’t open for you.”

“Two are in use?” I ask.

“Yes. One for me and the other belongs to my maid. She takes care of
these facilities while I am gone.” He suddenly calls out, making me flinch,
“Willow! Where are you slouching around?”

“Ascathon? You are back.” A voice comes from where the god indicated
the living rooms to be. “What was that yesterday? You just stormed into
your laboratory with that corpse in your arms and completely ignored me.”

A woman with silver skin and white hair steps into the corridor, parading
her complete nakedness without an ounce of shame. Her milky, white eyes
settle on me, and she grins, giving me goosebumps. Raising her arms and
involuntarily pushing her ridiculously huge assets together, she pouts upon
seeing my obvious rejection for whatever she had in mind for me. My eyes
are naturally drawn to the bouncy display and I look down at my own
nubile body. It feels stupid, especially after the experiences I had with
men, but just by looking at her I feel somehow diminished.

Then she squeals. “Look at that! You revived the cutie! Will we adopt
her?”

Ascathon shakes his head. “Don’t call it an adoption. I will make her my
avatar in the world once she is ready. Which means that you will teach her
the ropes. That reminds me, I still have to tell you about the latest shit the
Council dropped on me.”

The woman approaches with long elegant strides, allowing me to see every
inch of her perfectly smooth body. My heart sinks at seeing a big, green
eleven hovering in front of her bouncy assets. Then I blush upon noticing
that there is not a single hair on her perfect body, except for the smooth,
white mane on her head.

Before I can stop her, she picks me up, crushing me to her chest. “You are
really giving her to me? She must be special if you took an interest in her.”

The god chuckles. “Right now she is an unhewn stone, Willow. But I see
the potential to turn her into a diamond.”
 Chapter 5

The World
Ascathon
“Good. Now that you two are introduced, I'll see to my godly duties.”
Fixing Karin with my gaze, I add, “Just make sure not to adopt Willow's
clothing habits.” I glance at Williow. “Or lack thereof.”

“Hey,” Willow complains, placing her fists on her hips. “What's wrong
with being naked at home? Normally, there is nobody here who hasn't
already seen me in the nude.”

“You associate too much with Seria,” I reply harshly. “How often did I tell
you that she can't be trusted.”

Willow shrugs and looks away while playing with a strand of her white
hair. “Seria is a nice gal once you get to know her. It's just that she has
some kind of problem with you and she refuses to share the reason.
Besides, a woman doesn't have to be untrustworthy, just because she
refuses to play around with you.”

I throw up my hands in the air. “It's not about her liking or disliking me. If
I want to, I can have plenty of women as beautiful as her. What I am
concerned with is that she is hiding something important. I can smell it!
Tjenemit might be too caught up in his own ego to see it, but there is more
to her than meets the eye. She may even be a spy for one of the other
Council members.”

And as much as I dislike Tjenemit, he is still better than having El

Shaddai's attention. Or worse, being subject to one of the other psychos.
“That may be true, but all of the immortals are hiding something. It's in
our character. We are wilful, we hunger for power, and we like to play the
long game. Those are the traits that set you on the path for godhood. You
can hardly blame others for hiding their secrets - just like you do.” She
pokes her finger into my chest, almost accusingly.

I slap her hand away and concentrate my attention on the girl instead.
Maybe it's not too late to turn at least her into a decent person. “That went
way too far off topic. Just remember-”

“Don't worry,” Karin cuts me off. “You won't be seeing me running around
naked.”

“That's a good girl,” I reply.

Willow digs her index finger into Karin's cheek. “Aw, don't be so uptight,
it's unbecoming of a child who should enjoy life. But don't worry. I'll teach
you the proper perspective.”

Rolling my eyes, I decide to use the chance to flee the scene by using a
pathway back to the middle of all things. It's certainly rude to teleport out
on them like that, but I don't owe them anything.

I appear right in the central plaza of the Crystal City, a place buzzing with
life and creatures of all races. When I first experienced it, I had a hard
time believing that all of them were gods. Especially coming to terms with
the seemingly constantly ongoing explosion of colours and the clash of
cultures from different worlds wasn't easy.

I weave through the crowd of mostly humanoid people, each of them

either trying to sell or to buy various goods. The circular area of the plaza
is so full of vendors that it's hard to find a way through. And if it seems
like an easy path to get through opens up, it is instantly clogged by two
haggling parties.

Seeing that it is an especially busy day, I consider teleporting directly to

my destination, but I decide against it for the sake of moving my legs.
Shopping in this place always takes quite a bit of time, since gods have no
true currency. I was told that the Council tried once to establish a unified
currency for trade between deities, but it quickly became clear that
immortals as a whole are far too opportunistic to make anything like that
feasible.

There is no material in the multiverse a god wouldn't be able to acquire in

vast amounts if they put their mind to it, and any other sort of easily
distributable currency would be counterfeited within days.

The natural result is that gods tend to trade the fruits of their labour for
another's goods. Some even go as far as to hand out time-credits, valuing
an object or service only in the amount of time it requires from the person
in question.

And let's be honest, which price should someone place on an item

enchanted by an immortal master crafter? There is no way to weigh his
time and work against worldly materials.

Well, there are the mana crystals. The rare material that defies all logic
and can even strike down the gods. Left behind by some ancient
civilisation, the secrets of its creation were lost in the distant past.

I studied historical texts which spoke about an eternal war which raged for
untold times between the gods, until the Council managed to reign
supreme and established their base here in the middle of all things.

They claim that they created this city, but I am relatively certain that they
are just usurpers who settled into the shell of a fallen leviathan. If the
Council knew the secrets behind the mana crystals, they wouldn't just rule
the multiverse, they would suffocate it.

I stop my silent musings upon arriving at an unassuming bookstore at the

edge of the market. Forcing open a rusted and creaking door, I enter a
clammy and narrow room which stretches out seemingly endlessly. A
nauseating feeling overcomes me as I step over the threshold and into the
warped space of the store.
It's dusty and smells of old books, but it's ten times better than being
outside in the suppressing atmosphere of the market.

The store's warped room stretches out to infinity in depth and height,
creating the illusion of standing between two impossibly large
bookshelves.

I snort, seeing that the owner is absent, so I slam my palm onto the bell
which was placed on a counter right next to the entrance, causing an
unnaturally loud and reverberating 'gong' from the enchanted object. Not
waiting for the sound to fade out, I push down the button on top of the bell,
again and again, creating the most annoying rhythm possible.

Grinning, I watch as the books on the shelves closest to me start vibrating

when I hit the right rhythm.

Finally, with a flash of teleportation magic, the owner appears behind the
counter.

The brown-haired beast-kin wrinkles her nose upon seeing me. Her tanned
skin is smooth and the wide lips give her an otherworldly beauty which
has hints of the Orient. One of her long ears twitches in annoyance. Her
fabulous appearance isn't lessened by her obvious displeasure of seeing
me. “Ascathon, are you finally going to give back the book you
borrowed?”

“Aeehh...” an unintelligible sound escapes my throat as I try to remember

what she is talking about. I was caught off-guard by that. Which book does
she mean? The one I smuggled out... erm borrowed? Or does she know
about the one I outright stole?

“The Grimoire la Morta? The Tome of Death?” she clarifies

disapprovingly. “It was in the restricted section the last time you visited
me, and now it's gone.”

“Yes.” I flick my fingers. “That one! Nope, forgot it at home. Turned out
to be a total dead end to my research. But just to help you out a little, the
author was a total charlatan. You don't want that piece of mental puke
back. It's better that it's gone. If some future student of the necromantic
arts finds it, he or she could be led seriously astray, wasting decades of
their time.”

“Then you can leave.” She disappears again, leaving me with no other
choice than to start the annoying rhythm once more.

Another flash, and the owner is back. “Oh, you again, that was fast. Have
you-”

“I'll return it, but right now I really need access to your library,
Alexandria,” I blurt out before she can disappear on me again. “Tell me
your price and I'll pay it!”

She blinks, taken aback, then she gestures at the endless shelves. “You
know very well that all knowledge within Alexandria's Library is free. As
long as you don't take a book out of the library, you have free access to all
the knowledge.”

I press my lips together, following her finger to the endless shelves of

seemingly unsorted books. No, forget that, they are unsorted! Only
Alexandria knows her way through that mountain of paper. Forcing myself
to smile, I speak very slowly to the beast-kin to make sure she
understands. “Thanks. And believe me that I am beyond grateful that you
are willing to share all this knowledge for free.”

It's really too generous of her to drown her customers in piles of paper.
“It's just that I am in a bit of a hurry, so I don't have time to invest a few
centuries in order to search for what I need. I would like you to give me
access to the digitalized version of your library. I have to run just one
search and find the knowledge I need.”

Her eyes narrow. “Just to make sure that I understand this correctly. You
want me to give you access to the database you tried to steal the last time
you were here? While I slept? And that for free!?”

“I did no such thing!” I reply, offended by the accusation. All I did was try
to make a copy! It's not like I would have taken the data, leaving her with
nothing. “Lexi, would I ever lie to you?”

“In a heartbeat,” she answers stoically. Then she waves an elegant finger in
my face. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to digitalize all the
knowledge in my books? I kept working until my fingers bled and my eyes
turned red! For centuries! My customers thought that I was some kind of
ghoul!”

Just because she wouldn't allow anyone else to touch the books in her
restricted section.

“It was all a big misunderstanding, Lexi. You know that we share the love
for books, right? I would never try to take that away from someone. You
know what? You help me with my research, and I'll take a look at that
fraying space-time enchantment around your library. Just imagine what
would happen if it fails.”

Her eyes narrow, so I press the issue.

“I have this picture in my head. All those countless books, your beloved
books, suddenly confined to the three by ten metres of real space in this
store.” I point outside. “And then the door bursts open and all those lovely
books spill outside, flooding the whole market like a tidal wave!”

I see that she isn't quite on my side yet.

“The books will land on the dirty street! And then all those measly deities
out there get their grubby hands on your books! What if they think it's a
free for all and run off with the loot?”

Her eyes widen in horror and she looks around the space. “Is the
enchantment really failing? I had someone take a look at it just a thousand
years ago.”

I nod. “Space-Time magic is a tricky thing. It needs regular maintenance

and I can see with yours that it has been a very long time. You certainly
need to have it looked at by an expert.”
She huffs and crosses her arms in front of her. “You are just trying to trick
me, just like that night!”

I smile and wink at her. “But it was a wonderful night, wasn't it?”

Lexi considers that, without a doubt replaying the night in her memories.
At last, she rolls her eyes and huffs. “Fine. What do you need? And I still
want the book back. Knowledge should never be forgotten. Even if it is a
flawed version of the truth.”

“Everything you have on world enchantments.” It's unfortunate that I have

to admit it, but I am a total noob at world enchantments. I don't even know
where I should start, not to mention getting out of Tjenemit's little
experiment.

“You aren't demanding at all. Something like that will require an

additional price. Anything concerning world enchantments gets
immediately moved to the restricted section.”

“What could be more important than your library's safety, Alexandria?” I

rub my hands together. “I am sure that we can find common ground. Let's
talk about the price.”

She smiles. “You weren't wrong about that night. I'll require just a little of
your time. Let's use that amulet of yours to its fullest. Ah, and I want one
for myself.”

“Aaah, the healing amulet is it?” Amulets which provide endless stamina
are surely one of my best bargaining chips.

She nods.

The World
Karin
Now that we are alone, I return my attention to Willow. “Are you also a
god?”

“Gosh, no, child.” The beauty waves her hand. “I am one of Ascathon's
servants, though I can proudly claim that I managed to rise to the status of
an immortal during my service to him. You could call me his left hand.”

“He called you a maid...”

Willow raises her hand as if she is about to faint, touching her forehead
with the back of her hand. “Oh, the mistake of trying to kill him just once.
Will I ever be forgiven, or will this Martyrium last for eternity?” As
quickly as she started her act, she returns to normal. “I am just kidding. In
principle, I do everything that's asked of me. After all, he is protecting us
to the best of his abilities.”

“You tried to kill him?” My forehead furrows as I try to grasp the strange
notion. Even as a slave, knowing less than I do now, I would've never even
tried to kill a god. “What do we need protection from? Aren't we
immortal? Other gods? Is that Myrm fellow a danger?”

She shakes her head. “I don't know who this Myrm is, but he is certainly
just a minor symptom of the true illness. There is a Council of gods, a
group of beings who rule the multiverse. They say what goes and what not.
It goes as far as to intimidate all the newly awakened gods into serving
them. Any who challenge their authority disappear silently and without a
trace. In fact, that's what happened to a very good friend of ours.”

“But we aren't gods...” I reply, mulling over the thought.

“We aren't, yet,” Willow corrects me. “In fact, Ascathon is helping me not
to awaken and to hide from the Council. If any of them knew of my
existence, they would surely try to force me to awaken so that they can
play their games with me.”

I nod slowly. “I am sorry for taking all of this with a grain of salt. A few
hours ago I was a random slave without hope.”
“Yet you are taking the situation with more dignity than can possibly be
expected. Why don't we get rid of those filthy clothes first, and then we
take a bath together?” A lecherous grin enters the woman's eyes and she
grabs my hand before I can respond. Numbers float through my vision, and
some kind of strength-check between me and the woman fails, displaying
my measly power level of five against her eleven.

“I- I promised-”

“Don't worry. Nobody would blame you for getting naked in the pool. And
while we are at it you can tell me about yourself.” She pulls me with her
along the corridor, towards the door which was said to be a pool. “Without
that knowledge, I can hardly think of a training plan for you.”

Overwhelmed by Willow's personality, I allow myself to be dragged off

and stripped naked in what seems like a changing room while I have to
spill the story of my unspectacular life.

I was born in a small village where my mother made a living with her
herb-shop. As soon as I was old enough, I started helping mother at the
counter. My father was a soldier and often sent us a part of his earnings.
While it lasted, it was possible to get by with just the two of us.

In truth, I never knew the man, as he was always on duty, fighting in one of
the countless wars between the nations. That was until his letters stopped
coming altogether. Either he had forgotten about us, or he had fallen in
war. I suppose that we could be thankful that the assistance lasted as long
as it did. Most women who fall in love with a soldier have to bear the
result of their stupidity on their own.

But my mother never complained in front of me or gave any indication

that I was a burden to her.

Without the financial assistance, we quickly fell into debt. The world was
hard enough for simple peasants without being a single parent, and mother
had fallen out of favour with her family when she ran off to be with a
soldier.
Debt quickly turned into serfdom, and serfdom into slavery. The
merchants who bought herbs from us had a saying, 'Once you fall, you fall
quick and deep.'

I never understood what they meant by that until I ended up in that cage
and had to watch my mother being beaten to death after she tried to save
me from being raped.

I allow a bitter smile to creep into my expression. “...and then, after

months of slavery, I heard about the advent of the gods. That's when I
started praying and one day, he appeared. He gave me the power to punish
everyone, just like that. As if it were no big deal.” I look up at Willow.

“And I just did.” I can't stop my voice from sounding a little crazy in that
moment.

The silver woman smiles and rubs my back without saying anything before
pushing me out of the changing room through another door... and onto a
beach.

“Tadaa!” She gestures at the white sand and the ocean. “Let's treat this
horrible mental trauma with beachtime!”

A gentle breeze softly moves the large leaves of a strange tree and waves
are brushing against the shore.

Blinking, I turn around to assure myself that I just left a building, but
behind me is just the thick underbrush and forest of some kind of island.
There is also a single doorframe which blurs at the edges, making it hard
to focus my eyes on the spot. Inside the doorframe, I can see the changing
room Willow and I just left.

“Aw, don't look like you just entered wonderland.” Willow bends down and
picks up a stone, throwing it at a spot a metre next to the doorframe. It hits
some kind of wall and bounces off while the image of the tropical island
blurs and waves, returning to normal after a few seconds.
“Illusion magic, neat, heh?” She places her hands on her hips and grins
from ear to ear.

I smile forlornly, appreciating her attempt to distract me from my story.

“Thanks, but you hit the nail on the head. I indeed feel like I entered a
wonderland.” A cruel and twisted version of a children's story.

Willow is suddenly next to me, picking me up in a princess carry. I squeal

in shame, feeling her soft bosom push against me.

“You know what? But the water is real!”

Then I am tumbling – end over end – as the picture of the world refuses to
right itself and I flail with my arms and legs. Screaming, I realize that the
crazy bitch threw me, just as I hit the cold water.

Struggling, I gulp down several mouthfuls of the salty liquid before I

come up for air. To my shame, I expel most of what I can through my nose,
coughing and heaving from the burning sensation of salt water in my nose,
lungs, and eyes.

“I will add swimming to the schedule. You are lucky that I threw you into
the shallow part,” Willow calls out to me from the shoreline.

I make my way back to the shore, trying to get rid of the salt. “What was
that for!?”

“Mainly for my own amusement,” Willow answers without a smidgen of

guilt. “And to get your thoughts to other things. Enjoy this pool while you
can. Once you are relaxed, we have to start your basic education.”

“Basic education?” I ask. “Like in the temple school?”

Willow slaps a hand against her forehead. “Oh, you poor girl. I have no
idea what went through Ascathon's head when he gave you the Eye of
Possibilities. You probably don't even know enough about mathematics to
use it, not to mention understand what you are seeing. We need to run you
through basic scientific education, and then a specialized math course
before we can even consider teaching you magic.”

“The Eye of what!?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“That's why he ran off so quickly. Why is it always me who has to tell
them?” The silver woman shakes her head and sighs heavily. Then she
walks over to a row of deckchairs, picking up a mirror from one of them.
“Oh, girl. This will probably come as a shock, but you probably didn't
even notice the changes beneath all the blood and grime.” She then holds it
out for me to see.

The face that looks back at me isn't mine. At least, it isn't what I looked
like just a day ago.

My left eye is completely transparent, and inside it is the hexagonal

pattern of a slowly spinning dice. The right one also changed, and my
formerly round, brown and perfectly human iris is now slitted and golden.
Mostly hidden beneath my brown hair, which is now much darker and
bordering on a shade of the red of fallen leaves, are two bony ridges which
start at my temples and disappear behind my ears. Little horns!

“Close your mouth, or you will catch an insect,” Willow advices while she
is groping my belly, but her strange behaviour couldn't be further away
from what bothers me right now.

“What?”

“Just confirming, yep, it's in there. I knew he took one from the vault.”

“In there!?” I squeak, slapping her hand away. Then I feel for myself,
pushing my fingers in, and sure enough, there is something hard inside my
belly. What's that!? Am I pregnant again!? This situation feels so much
worse than rape!

“A dragon's mana-core. It makes it easier to control mana, but it's also a

weakness.” She sighs. “Well, you just have to get used to it. Being
Ascathon's minion comes with the price of being a lab-rat.”
Seeing my distress, she pats my shoulder. “Hey, don't worry. All will be
fine in the end.”

I point at the bony ridges on my temples. “That's not going to be fine! Will
I turn into some kind of lizard!?” Now that I am on the lookout, I also
notice that my fingernails are a little thicker than I remember them to be.
“Am I getting claws!?”

“Nope.” She stops my worst assumptions with an open palm. “I am sure

that's the extent of the changes.

“Don't smile like that!” I squeal. “You aren't the one who was
experimented on.”

“Heeeey...” Hands open, she gestures at herself. “Do I look like any
species you have ever seen? Milky-white eyes without pupils, silver skin,
and a rack that makes it impossible to look away.” She squeezes her
plentyful and lets go, with an annoyingly bouncy result.

My eyes involuntarily follow the bounciness, and I just have to admit that
I am envious.

She smirks. “Do you want to feel them up? There are the cores of two
metal elementals in there. And would you believe me if I told you that I
was a fairy before this? People change. That's the price we pay for power
and experience.”

Willow has mana-cores inside her breasts!? Isn't that like stuffing one's
bra with straw? “That's cheating!” Feeling wobbly, I sit down in the sand.
“I honestly don't know how to feel about this.”

The older woman ruffles my hair. “You are young. You will adapt...”

“... or die,” she adds after a moment of consideration.

 Chapter 6

The World
King Luxley
“My kingdom is falling apart, old man, and all you can tell me is that you
don't know what's going on?” I rave from atop my throne, hopefully
sounding as mad as I am. “My family held this kingdom together for two
hundred years and I am not going to be the last king of Sur! Give me a
proper explanation! How can a strong kingdom slide to the edge of a civil
war in a matter of weeks!”

Reginald, my most trusted advisor and the court's mage bows deeply. “I
am very sorry that I can't offer you a better explanation, my king. I shared
all of my reliable findings in my report.”

I shake my head. “That report reads like a child's story, or the diary of a
madman. How am I supposed to believe that the gods are suddenly real
and that prayers work!? It's been centuries since the fall of the Mirai
Empire and their necromantic empress. They called her a goddess, but I
am pretty sure that she was just an exceptional necromancer.”

“There are stories of her appearing wherever she wished to.” The old mage
sighs and clasps his hands in front of him. He almost looks defeated. “I am
very sorry, but in all my years I haven't experienced anything like this. I
wouldn't have believed it myself, hadn't I stood witness to the appearance
of such a deity, even if it was just a minor one. All I can tell you is that the
gods are real.
“Apparently, the rules of the world as we know it have changed. Magical
power and strength are no longer the final solutions. Every random
commoner may mutter a prayer, and if spoken with enough conviction, he
or she can summon powers beyond our ken. It's not so much about having
the power yourself, begging for it is enough. By searching through the
testimonies of eyewitnesses, I narrowed it down to the point that I can say
that emotional distress is helpful in summoning these beings.”

He spreads his hands, helpless. “I have tried my magic against one of these
gods, Nazareth, a minor deity according to his own words, but he just
laughed at me. The worst thing was that I felt it. He was so far beyond me,
I couldn't even scratch him had I trained my skills for another lifetime.

“And it's incorrect to say that all the gods are suddenly real. There seem to
be one or two dozen of them at the most. Whatever the world went through
to change the rules, it didn't awaken all the gods.”

Two dozen beings who are strong enough to laugh in Reginald's face? The
man might be old, a withered bag of raw leather, but I would never
underestimate his magical abilities. If these gods are indeed that powerful,
then they may be capable of tearing the world apart.

“There is nothing we can do about them?” I ask.

Reginald closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Someone changed the rules
of the world and we have to learn to live with it. From what Nazareth said,
I assume that the gods themselves aren't happy with this development.”

“How!?” I ask, almost begging him. “I can't rule a country in which every
peasant has the ability to wish away the tax-collector or to escape prison.
What do I do if someone manages to send one of these gods after me?”

“Luckily, it isn't quite that easy,” Reginald answers thoughtfully.

“Something compels the gods to answer our prayers, but they have their
own goals and personalities. The word of them is spreading, we can't
change that. But the people are also slowly becoming aware that
summoning a god can backfire as much as it can save you.”
“Is that because you chose a minor deity for your summoning
experiment?” I ask.

He shakes his head again and wanders to the throne room's large window
front, looking outside. “I studied the reports, and I chose Nazareth because
he was the god who was the least likely to react badly to a prayer. Out of a
hundred testimonies, he only once cursed the one who brought him into
our world. Compared to that, calling upon something like Ascathon will
almost assuredly get you killed. It's much like calling a mythical djinn for
a wish with that one. You may state your wish with as much detail as you
want, the result will always be bad.”

I lean back in my chair. “That doesn't make it better. Should we just run
away and hide then? Crawl deep into some cave and hope that nobody
harbours a grudge strong enough to sic an unstoppable entity on us? I
already forbade the citizens to call upon the gods, but clearly, it isn't as
easy as that. One can't forbid a dying man to mutter a prayer of hope.”

Reginald looks thoughtful and licks his lips in consideration. “There is one
possibility, but I am not sure if it will work.”

“Tell me.” I wave my hand towards the window. “Look outside. Truly look
at what my country is turning into. My city is burning. The capital! How
can it get any worse?”

The old man furrows his forehead, studying the scene. The people are on
the streets, rioting. Columns of smoke are rising into the horizon, marking
the burning slums.

Finally, he decides to speak. “The rules have changed, my king. This is a

different world from the one we are used to. But if the rules are different,
then maybe it's not a matter of them, but of us.”

I tilt my head, not understanding.

Reginald clarifies himself, “If we can't do something about the new rules,
then we have to adapt to them. Maybe it's as easy as to choose a patron for
ourselves.”
“A patron?”

He nods. “If we can't stop the gods, then our only choice is to get the
protection of one, is it not?”

Trying to get that thought into my head, I slowly nod. “But which one? Is
it as easy as to start praying to the god of my choosing?”

The old man shrugs. “That's why I didn't want to share the idea. It's just a
theory. But a list of all the gods and their ideologies is in my report.”

The Crystal City

Ascathon
“What are you reading?” Marigold steps closer, trying to see the cover of
the book in my hands.

Looking up, I study him and survey the other deities in Studio 7. There are
currently two groups present and both of them hold a respectful distance
from me. The place became something like a meeting area for everyone
who got caught up in Tjenemit's experiment. It's a place where the others
tend to share information and bitch about their bad luck.

My own reason for being here is information. Hopefully, I can listen in on

something interesting regarding my current situation.

I show him the cover. Normally, I would try to give away as little as
possible, but I am relatively sure that Marigold is not a friend of the
Council. The two of us aren't the best of buddies, but I know him well
enough. I am also just trying to understand my situation, something I can't
be blamed for. And if in a day or two Tjenemit shows up to reprimand me
for my choice of reading material, I know who is the snitch.

Better to know my enemies before I try something for real.

“One hundred and one ways to have fun with a succubus... without losing
your soul,” he reads, baffled. “I knew that you are into the kinky stuff, but
is it really wise to play around with a thing like that? Travelling to one of
the infernal dimensions can be dangerous, even for a god.”

“Oh, don't worry. The book-cover is just there to trick anyone who might
be a little too interested in what I am up to, like Tjenemit. But you are my
fellow inmate, so you can know,” I whisper, trying to sound conspiratorial.

“So you don't want to bang a succubus?” The half-orc sounds a little
disappointed.

I never knew that he had a fetish like that... but that's something I can
easily help with.

“I already did! Who do you think is the author of Succubus 101?” I shake
my head. “Marigold, if you want advice on that front, then I can suggest a
nice castle on the Plane of Pleasures. The ruler is a succubus queen with
forty-one daughters. Believe me, one night there and you are cured of all
worldly desires.”

“Really!? There is a dimension like that!?” His voice raises an octave, but
then he reigns in his excitement. “I err... don't think that I would be able to
deal with that much attention. But back to the topic at hand. What are you
really reading?”

“World Enchantments for Dummies, by Jahwe.” I carefully reveal the true

cover to him. “I must admit that I never concerned myself with world
enchantments, or how to break them. I really have to start from scratch
and I found out that there are so many things you can do with world
enchantments. I might have found a topic that keeps me interested for
another decade or two.”

Marigold's expression turns concerned and he looks back at the other

deities. “You shouldn't break Tjenemit's experiment. I doubt that he will
be pleased,” the half-orc whispers.
“Nobody said that I'll break his little experiment,” I clarify, but that
doesn't mean that I don't want to know how I can break it – should the
need arise. “By the way, have you ever read this book? This Jahwe is a real
vain bastard. He is into all that omnipotence crap, watching mortals suffer
while laughing his ass off. And he made this whole heaven and hell thing
on his Earth, pulling the souls of mortals into separate dimensions, just so
that he can judge how they lived their lives, just for shit and giggles. The
two of us would probably get along just fine.”

“Why would any god want to do that?” Marigold asks with an expression
of genuine bewilderment. “Doesn't he have more interesting stuff to do?
Like, godly matters?”

I shrug. “I don't know. Maybe it's what gets him off?”

“Anyway, let's change the topic.” I wave my hand and close the book.
“How are you guys doing?”

Marigold lets his head hang. “Same as always. It's so humiliating to be

summoned like some minor familiar to do some mortal's bidding.”

“Ever tried just killing them?” I ask. “Works great for me as a stress
relief.”

Marigold spreads his hands and allows them to flop to his sides in a
gesture of exasperation. “A few times. I have to guide the animalistic
races on the warpath and some of them simply don't get the hint without
cracking a head or two. Especially the orks, I hate orks.”

“But you are an ork,” I point out.

He looks at me.

“Half-ork,” I correct myself.

“That's the problem,” he affirms.

Pulling a face, I try to imagine how it must feel like to be the deity for a
group of racist bullies who loot, pillage and rape their path through the
world's history. I had a few dealings of my own with the world's tribes and
I quickly learned that working through a third party is the only way to
avoid most of the troubles which occur with that race.

In my days as the necromantic bane, I even supported the tribes in order to

weaken my enemies. It worked, but in the end I had to admit that other
solutions may have been better in the long run. The orks as a race are
prideful enough to defy even gods.

It goes without saying that defying me wasn’t their best decision in the
end, but I had to exterminate them with extreme prejudice, and that meant
nuking them till the soil glowed – without giving a shit about bystanders.

“Yeah, I think I get your point,” I answer after considering his situation.
“Maybe you should celebrate a culling or two. The orks tend to listen to
those who burned down one or two of their villages. Oh, I know!” I raise
my book and open the passage I was just reading. “This spell here
automatically calls down rocks and lava on any who refuse to pray to
you… or no… this one! An unending flood that drowns everything in the
vicinity.”

I consider it for a moment. “Or better not that last one. I am all in for mass
murder, but that spell isn’t localized to a town or a village. It gets
everything, animals included. Man, Jahwe was a real asshole now that I
think about it. Not even I walk around and drown poor, helpless animals.
He is a god, so he really could have come up with a better solution.”

Marigold clears his throat. “Yeah, well I suppose I’ll go and take a look at
what my brother is doing.”

“Nazareth? Where is the little imp?” I survey the room, noticing for the
first time that Marigold’s better half is missing. They never told me the
story of how one of the brothers became a half-orc and the other a gnome.
Are they brothers in the sense of a ritual, like blood-brothers? Best
friends? Bros? Or is their relationship on the warmer side of business?

Then again, they could also have been real brothers at some point and then
they reincarnated into new bodies. It’s really hard to tell who drew the
worse card should that be the case. Being a gnome or an orc would be one
of the few cases in which I would consider suicide in earnest. No wonder
Marigold perked up at my mention of succubi.

“Don’t know. He was teleported away by the world enchantment before

you arrived,” Marigold interrupts my silent musings.

Feeling bad for him, I materialize a book and a business card with details
on how to reach the Plane of Pleasures. “Take that, and mention my name
when you are there. That will lower the chances that they will suck you
dry.”

Marigold takes the book and stores it away in his own pocket dimension.
After a brief glance at the business card which shows the golden letters “P.
o. P.” in elaborate calligraphy, the card quickly follows the book. “I really
have to go now.”

Grinning, I slap him on the shoulder. “Have fun.”

Then I watch him disappear in a flash of light and a few sparks. The web
of energy that makes up the pathways glows for a few moments before the
lights fade out and I am left to my own devices. Looking at the other
deities in the room, I don’t feel like socializing too much, so I take a
pathway back to my lair.

I appear in the long corridor which doubles as an entrance hall. Since it’s
long and wide enough, it may as well be counted as its own room.

Distant sounds from the living room quickly guide me to where Karin is
busily taking notes in some textbook while Willow is playing tutor with a
second version of the book, pointing out certain passages. The both of
them are in blue sports suits, sitting on the ground while working on a
knee-high oaken table.

Normally, it wouldn’t be comfortable to sit on the marble floor, but I

installed floor heating throughout the whole facility which ensures a
comfortable temperature.
I smile. “Hi, girls. I am back.”

Karin gasps when she sees me and jumps to her feet. Before Willow can
stop her, she is up and over the table, coming to a halt right in front of me.
“Change me back!”

“No.”

“Why not!?” She points at her temples. “Do you see that!? Horns! And my
eyes! I look like some freakish Kamera!”

“Chimera, child,” Willow corrects the girl while getting up herself. “It’s
called a chimera, a conglomeration of different creatures.”

“I don’t care what it’s called,” Karin replies.

I tilt my head, studying her. “The horns are cute and the eyes look
interesting. I don’t get what the problem is.” Walking around the girl, I
take a glance at the textbooks before I sit down on the nearby couch,
enjoying the comfort of my home. The living room is a square-shaped
space of ten by ten metres with marble flooring and oaken furniture with
turquoise padding.

She follows me. “You are lying. I look like some stitched together
hatched-job!”

Well, she isn’t completely wrong about that. On both occasions when I
gave her power-ups, I just took what was available at the moment. There
was no planning or deeper goal behind my actions.

“You look cute. No immortal would ever comment on your unique looks,
so just chill,” I murmur, sinking into the mattress. “Or do you want me to
give you a tail? I am good with those.”

“Tail!?” she squeaks.

“Please don’t include her into your strange fetishes, master,” Willow steps
forward and sits down next to me, linking arms. “How did it go? Are you
finally ready to explain what’s going on?”
I sigh. “Fine, but I have to warn you. It will take a while.”

“Before that,” Karin points at the two of us. “What’s the exact relationship
between you two, and are there any others coming to this facility?”

“Silly, I already told you that I am in his service,” Willow answers and
points down at the floor. “Why don’t you sit down and listen carefully
while the adults talk. You might get some answers to your questions, and
then we can resume our attempts at filling that bottomless hole you call an
education.”

Karin groans and looks at the textbooks with desperation in her eyes.

“Why don’t you put her into the neural learning machine? It should be
much quicker than teaching her the basics the old-fashioned way,” I
suggest.

“There is a machine like that!?” The girl perks up and glares at her tutor.

“What he didn’t mention, is that it feels like someone stabbed a hot fork
into your brain and is turning it around,” Willow informs Karin.

Which quickly ends in a change of heart for the unwilling student. “Never
mind, we aren’t going to do that.” And then her accusing glare turns to me.
“Just for the future, you should mention side-effects.”

“He never bothers mentioning those.” Willow looks down at herself and
picks at her snow-white hair.

I look up at the ceiling, slowly feeling fed up. “Can I give you the update
on our situation now? Or do you prefer to keep bickering? In that case, I
would make myself something to eat until you are done.”

“I am sorry, master,” Willow apologizes. “Please tell us what's going on.

You have been strangely absent recently. I began to worry.”
 Chapter 7

The World
King Luxley
“Traitorous bastards!” I squeal as I run away down the palace's corridors,
followed by a mob of rebellious beggars.

Two of the palace guards are overwhelmed as they try to put themselves
between me and the attackers who stormed the palace just minutes ago.
My men are well trained and have the best equipment, but even though
their enemies have no armour and are only equipped with clubs and
improvised weapons, the guards stand no chance against the attackers'
superior numbers.

This morning, my world was still whole. It had a few cracks at the edges,
thanks to the appearance of the gods, but my kingdom was holding out
much better than many others. Quite a few countries, including a direct
neighbour of ours, had crumbled under the chaos caused by wishes coming
true and unstoppable beings creating havoc.

And now it was happening to me! Some random fool from the street with
less brain than a pig had blamed his lot in life on me. And now a god had
brought down the gates to my castle, letting in a mob of uncivilized
dissidents! The entity was even helping them against my guards!

A guy in shining armour took down my court mage as if he was nothing

more than a bug! Then he systematically attacked the castle's choke-
points, ensuring that the mob from the street had free reign. I only got a
short glimpse at the guy, but judging by the reports I received it must be
Myrm.

Wasn't Myrm supposed to be a god of light and order? Why would he side
with people who seek to spread chaos and anarchy? I always ruled my
kingdom in the best interests of my people. There is no slavery, no overly
burdening taxes, and I do my best to keep the nobles under control by
ensuring that the law stands even above the right of birth.

Of course, there are elements of society who can't take care of themselves
and end up in debt, no matter how benevolent the government is. But that
can hardly be blamed on me? Who am I to take away from those who take
care of themselves and strengthen our economy, just to give it to those
who end up wasting my good will?

It's not like we don't have government projects which give a chance to
those who live in poor conditions.

So why is this damned god taking down my castle bit by bit?

A flash of light and sparks from around a corner in front of me force me to

stop my hasty escape down the corridor. Flailing my arms like a lunatic, I
take a side-corridor to avoid the entity who tried to cut off my escape
route. Behind me, the howling peasants are on my heels, but I am gaining
on them, thanks to the fact that I know my castle like the back of my hand.

Stumbling, I arrive at a stairway and descend into the deeper levels of the
castle. “There is only one hope left.”

Following my advisor's suggestion, I tried praying to all the known gods,

hoping to get the protection of at least one of them. But nobody answered
my plea.

The howling of my pursuers grows distant, and for a moment I hope

against hope that they took a wrong turn and that I lost them. But when I
look back, I can see the flickering of torches in the stairway above me.

“He must have gone down there!”

“Right into the castle's dungeon? That serves us fine, there should be no
way out of there.”

“Send men to cover the other entrances! We have to get him before the
army is able to react.”

Ignoring the voices above me, I concentrate on descending the moist stairs
and reach the lowest level of the castle. Fifty feet beneath the earth, the
place is always cold and wet with a slight aroma of aged cellar in the air.
There, I arrive at a T-section and take the corridor to my left, in the
direction which was previously barred by the stupid god.

Passing another stairway, I enter a narrow corridor which looks like it

hasn't been used in many years.

Isn't Myrm aware that killing me will drop the country into chaos? By
blindly helping the dissidents, he is starting a rebellion that will bring
down the last strong government in this region. Without an heir, the nobles
will throw themselves at the chance to gain control over the country. And
by doing so, they will tear it apart.

I arrive at my destination, a godforsaken part of the castle's dungeon

which hasn't been visited in years. Dust and dirt are stirred up as I lean my
shoulder against an old part of the crumbling stonework that makes up the
walls. The hidden door cracks open, and the dirt of decades falls onto my
head as I enter the family's secret place of worship.

I didn't visit it even once since my grandfather died and with him the
tradition.

Only now I realize what a fool I was back then, following in my father's
footsteps, abandoning the old ways of our family. We should have
preserved our knowledge and our magic, instead of sacrificing it to the
altar of progression.

Stepping inside, I fall to my knees in front of the stone altar. The relic is
covered with a crust of what looks like brittle wax, but I know only too
well that it's layers of blood, accumulated by centuries of worship. On a
little cushion on top of the altar is a skull, adorned with runes of gold and
silver.

The walls to my left and to my right are hidden by the stacked skulls and
bones of my ancestors. Generations of my family are lying in this crypt,
and to my knowledge, I am the last living descendant. I always hated this
place because it made me feel like I am being judged, looked down upon
by those who came before me.

“Revered ancestors, a direct descendant of your line begs for your help.
Please, save my kingdom!”

But the most sincere plea I spoke since my birth remains unanswered.

The lumbering steps of a person in heavy armour make me flinch. Maybe I

should have closed the hidden door, but is there even a hope to escape a
god? Would it have made a difference had I known the ancient rites to call
upon the dead?

Still and on my knees, I turn around to face Myrm in his shining armour.
His mere presence weighs on me, like the earth itself is trying to pull me
down.

“Seems like you are at the end of your road, king.” Myrm steps into the
room, but stops upon seeing me, or was it the altar? Something made him
hesitate. The entity surveys the room ever so slowly before his attention
lands on something behind me.

A heavy hand falls on my shoulder and I gasp in shock, almost feeling my

soul leave my body. Enabled by the physical contact, I can feel something
dig deep into my mind, taking the information it wants as if I am nothing
more than a shelf of books.

Myrm actually takes a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking around and making sure that you don’t screw up one of my new
permanent homes. May I return the question and ask what you are doing
here?” an authoritative voice asks from right behind me.
“Isn't it obvious?” Myrm gestures at me. “I follow the call of my
worshippers, helping them to punish the wicked.”

The hand tightens on my shoulder. “Well, not today, because he is one of

mine. I don't feel like giving him to you.”

Myrm chuckles. “What makes you think that I care about what you think
is yours? A worshipper of mine wanted to bring down the corrupt
government which was responsible for his misery and the bad living
conditions of countless others. It's my responsibility as their god to ensure
that their lives get better, so just step aside and let me finish this!”

“Aren't you getting a little too carried away?” A man clothed in a black
robe steps past me, pushing me back towards the altar. Unfazed by Myrm,
he confronts him directly.

“You are on the wrong side, Myrm. Haven't you learned anything about
this world in the last weeks? This kingdom is one of the last bastions of
law in this region. Bring it down and this world's civilisation may as well
dissolve into another century of civil war instead of a decade.”

Myrm bangs his fist onto the breastplate of his shining armour and
gestures at the room. “And I should just ignore what I've seen here? This is
a dark place, an evil place. Someone made blood sacrifices in here! And
those bones...”

The man in black shakes his head, looking almost bemused. “It's always
funny to see a new god getting carried away. You always have to keep in
mind that we gods may be all-powerful, but we aren't all-knowing. Have
you even talked to those who caused you to go on this rampage? How are
you sure that they aren't some crazed fanatics?”

“Even if they are, they are still my worshippers. There's nothing I can do
about it.” Myrm tries to push the other man out of the way, but the dark
figure doesn't move. “I have to insist on you stepping out of the way. Or
have you forgotten Tjenemit's instructions? We aren't allowed to fight in
any form or way, and I was here first!”
“Hmm.” The dark figure looks around the room. “I would see the situation
in an entirely different light. Confronted by Tjenemit, I would say that you
attacked one of my temples-”

“This isn't a temple!” Myrm interrupts. “This is a god-damn castle and

you know it.”

The dark man spreads his hands. “Then what is this place? You call it a
place of sacrifice. I call it a place of worship. A place which is still
occupied by one of my distant descendants, as diluted as his blood may be.
The bones in this hall belong to his ancestors. The Mirai have always
governed their people from their places of power. Religion and
government were always one for the necromantic priests.”

He lowers his voice. “I repeat, aren't you the one who is directly attacking
one of my temples?”

Myrm steps into the dark one's personal space, but the cloaked figure
doesn't move. “We will bring this up in front of Tjenemit and let him
decide.”

Then, with a flash of light, Myrm is gone.

“Phew!” The man turns around and throws back his hood, giving me a
good look at his pale skin and black hair, unique characteristics of the
pure-blooded Mirai. “Negotiating with that fellow is always such a pain in
the ass. Do you know that he killed a group of my paladins, just to spite
me?”

Stepping closer, he kneels down to get on eye-level with me. My muscles

lock up in fear as I get a good look at his eyes, unnatural orbs of pitch
black darkness.

I avert my eyes to look at the ground. “I am yours to command,

Ascathon.”

“Ha!” The god claps his hands. “I got summoned by a mortal, a king no
less, and he offers himself to do my bidding! Well played. You are
precious! Do you know that you are the first mortal who didn't want
something right after calling upon me?”

Saving me was more than enough. Now just go away without killing me!

I am smarter than to voice my thoughts. Instead, I keep my eyes glued to

the floor, too afraid to request anything from the dark god. My adviser
gathered detailed data on all the awakened entities, and the god of chaos
and magic sounded like the one a sane king would want to have the least
interaction with.

But I have to say something. “I am sorry for taking up your time. There
are surely far more important matters for a god to attend to.”

“Hahaha!” Ascathon claps me onto the shoulder. “What are you talking
about? I am sure I can spare a few more minutes for you. And don't deny
that you need my help. I've looked into your mind and seen the situation.”

Stretching, he cracks with his fingers and wriggles them. “Let's see... I
hope I am not too old to teach you a few spells. Man, my people truly
forgot a lot over the centuries. To think that you can't even animate a
minor zombie.”

“What? What do you intend to do?” I shudder. Necromancy in my

kingdom!? Impossible!

The god puts an arm beneath my shoulder and drags me to my feet without
any effort. “We are going out there, and then we will use those useless
worshippers of the light as training material. You might even get a few
loyal servants out of it.”

“I- I- I-” I can't kill people to turn them into zombies!

“They tried to kill you. Fair is fair. But instead of dying, they can bolster
your ranks. And once they are undead, their most urgent problem – food –
will be no longer an issue. You can have them feast on their comrades, or
on trash. They won't complain.” He starts dragging me towards the door.
“Turning the useless into undead is a really economical solution that made
the Mirai Empire great. Imagine, all this vast and unused workforce in
your kingdom is just waiting to be put to good use. Instead of wasting their
time with smouldering inside their own fumes, they could be put to a
task!”

The World
Karin
“My head hurts!” I lie down on the sofa and rub my temples. “Why did he
do that? I said that I was fine with learning the normal way.”

Willow returns from the kitchen and hands me a bag of ice and some pills.
“To be honest, he was right that your education was woefully lacking for
your age. And he didn't even give you the full program, just what's
expected of a child of your age.”

I whine as her words trigger some flag within my mind and knowledge just
appears as if I always had it. “Then, why does this knowledge tell me that
Advanced Mathematics III is a university level class for a master's
degree?”

Willow winces. “Oh, that... so I was right when I thought that he spun up
the dial a little too high on that one. No wonder that you are wasted, even a
day later. Just stay down on the couch and rest.”

There is actually another reason why I am not feeling any better since
Ascathon tried the infernal learning machine on me. Even though I was
told to sleep the pain off, I couldn't because of the noise.

“I am wasted because I couldn't sleep!” I complain, blushing. “Someone

next door kept screaming. Harder! Faster! Pinch them!” Does pinching
actually feel good? “I thought you and Ascathon aren't in that kind of
relationship?”
“Oh, child. There are two sorts of immortals. Those who are eternal
prudes, and those who have nothing against a little fun when the urge
strikes us. Ascathon and I don't brag about our misadventures, but we go
for it from time to time.” She grins evilly. “Sorry for being a screamer, but
he is really good when he is worked up.”

“No, thanks,” I answer quickly. Since my time as a slave, I could do well

without ever again being with a man. “So, uh, you two have no children?”

Willow sighs and touches her cheek, looking at me with a sad expression.
“Of course we had children over the centuries. With different partners in
fact.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the mere suggestion, but a sharp sting right
behind my eyes forces me to moan in pain right afterwards.

Willow shakes her head and places the pack of ice on my forehead. “Just
take the pills and rest. And don't let your education get in the way of
rationality. Previously, you were a peasant with a life-expectancy of a few
decades at most. Now you will live for centuries, maybe millenia. You will
fall in love, get children, and a few centuries later you may separate from
your partner because you grew distant. Maybe you will find solace in the
arms of another. No matter what you may think now, eternity is a long
time.”

”But...” What she suggested feels wrong, but who am I to judge? It's not
like my mother managed to keep father with her much longer than it took
him to get her pregnant.

“Girl, let me give you a good advice. I know that you won't take it, but I
will still give it to you. Right now you are still a mortal, but should your
soul ever manage to make the transition to an immortal one, never get
children, and never fall in love with a mortal.”

“Why?” I moan.

“Because all that lies down that path is pain and loss. Everyone, no matter
their strength, dies at some point. It may happen in a battle, or simply due
to unluckiness in an accident. Some may even grow tired of life and
choose to end it on their own terms.

“But while you will return and remember each and every one of them, they
will sink into the blissful abyss of nothingness. Their souls may
reincarnate, but they will have forgotten everything about you.”

She gestures for me to finally take the pills, and I follow her advice.

“You may as well be a stranger to them, even if you find them in their next
life. We have lost quite a few friends and children that way. And one other
thing. The multiverse doesn't care how powerful you are. Your children's
soul will always be a random one. It's very unlikely that they will ever
ascend. You don't even want to consider the other possibility. That some
immortal happens to reincarnate inside your child and that you are faced
with some creepy person inside the body of your offspring.

“You have to accept that our path is a lonely one and that if you happen to
make the mistake of becoming attached to a mortal, you will most likely
survive them. We are cursed to walk the path of immortality, forever
alone.”

I try to think on it, but the pain makes it almost impossible. “But isn't it
better to love what little I can, even if the time is limited? And what if I
fall in love with another immortal?”

“If you really find someone who wants to walk the path of immortality
with you, then you can count yourself lucky.”

Willow looks down on me, and for some reason, she looks sad. “That's
why I said that you wouldn't listen. None of the new ones do. It takes a few
centuries, experiencing loss after loss after loss, but eventually, you will
understand my warning. It's just sad that your heart will already be cold
and bitter by that point.”
 Chapter 8

The World
Ascathon
I stop myself just before I leave king Luxley's family tomb with the goal
of spreading a little mayhem among the mortals.

Wouldn't it be a waste of my time if I had to teach this lesson twice?

Once I had the thought, I no longer can ignore it. Turning around, I wave a
hand at the king, casting a little prank spell to root him to the ground.
“Actually, wait here, I'll be right back!”

Using a pathway, I home in right towards Willow and Karin, appearing

inside the living room of my secret hideout. Karin is wasting time by lying
around on the sofa and Willow is reading a book. Clapping my hands, I
gather their attention. “No fooling around in the middle of the day! It's
lesson time.”

“Nooo...”

Karin groans, but I grab her arm with one hand while touching Willow's
knee with the other, abducting the both of them.

We appear right where I left Luxley who is fervently trying to pull his feet
away from the ground. His efforts are to no avail since my hex is strong
enough to hold even a dragon.

“What are you doing?” I ask him while Karin drops to the ground and
Willow places her firm butt right next to our pupil.
“No- Nothing!” The king rights himself, trying to look composed - but
failing miserably.

“I just brought in a few more students, so that I don't have to do this

twice,” I explain and wave a hand, releasing him. “I hope you weren't
trying to run. It's dangerous for a weakling like yourself to be out there
alone.”

Of course, he was trying to run. The both of us know it, but I am willing to
give him a little leeway.

“I would never refuse the divine attention of a god,” Luxley answers

quickly, maybe too quickly.

Groaning, Karin rolls around and gets to her feet. “You said that you
wouldn't teach me anything until I managed to learn the basics.”

Willow gets up, dusting herself off. “Ascathon! I hope this won't become a
habit. I am not the one who is caught in this strange world enchantment.
Random teleportations are supposed to be your problem.”

Raising an eyebrow, I glare at the pretty lady who chose a tight, blue dress
which makes her look almost as if she is naked. “Are you sure that I am
the only one who is caught inside the enchantment? Have you ever tried
praying to me?”

Willow raspberries with her cute lips and raises a finger to stop me. “First,
I would never pray to you! Second, you already forced me to take care of
Karin. Do you always load off your illegitimate children on your female
friends? And third-” She turns her attention to king Luxley, allowing her
voice to turn husky. “Who is this pretty fellow? Have you ever tried doing
it with an elemental?”

Luxley pales. “No. I would never with a mons... mo... m... erm...” His eyes
wander quickly back and forth between Karin and Willow, without a doubt
smitten by their unique beauty. “Thank you for the offer... but my office...
doesn't allow me... to... erm... live as freely as others.”
“Oh,” Willow pouts.

I give him a thumbs up and whisper, “Nice save. At least your diplomatic
skills are better than your ability to rule a kingdom.” Then I point at the
door. “Let's go and save Luxley's kingdom!”

“You really don't have to!” Luxley waves his hands but is ignored by the
lot of us.

“I thought you were going to teach us something?” Karin grumbles.

“Of course!” Strolling outside the tomb, I start the lesson, impressed that
Karin isn't intimidated by the presence of a king. But then again, in her
rural village kings weren't an everyday occurrence. “And I will use all the
scum inside this palace...” I cough. “Shrine! To give you a few examples
of magic and philosophy!”

Taking the lead, I head down a corridor towards the nearest sources of
energy.

“There are a few things you have to know about magic, which includes all
its forms. The most important one is that there is no 'evil' magic, just as
there are no 'evil' weapons. For example, Necromancy might not be pretty,
but it's a tool to be used. You have to understand that only a person can be
evil.”

I turn around, facing Luxley and Karin who are the only ones listening.
Willow is picking her nails, clearly not paying any attention to the lesson.
Good minions are so hard to find nowadays. I still remember the time
when Willow was a fresh employee. Her work ethics certainly suffered
over the centuries. Sighing, I let the matter go since she already knows
what I am about to share.

We leave the side-corridor which led to the tomb and enter a larger
hallway. It seems like this area was used a little more frequently, but it is
still dirty and smells of old cellar.
The two dissidents who I sensed beforehand notice us right away. The one
to the left points at us and screams, “There he is! Get them!”

They run towards us, their dirty clothes dangling from their bodies like
rags. Not wanting to be touched by the filthy mortals I raise a hand,
pointing it lazily at the left irritation. A little flex of uncontrolled force-
magic is enough and the man's body rips apart into a thousand pieces, his
bones breaking like old wood and splintering in all directions.

Within an instant, the corridor is painted red in blood and slick with gore.

“Damn...” I sigh. “That was a little too much power. Mortals are just too
fragile.”

The second dissident tries to stop his rapid charge, screaming in horror
upon realizing that the remains which cover the previously dusty hallway
– and himself – belong to his former comrade.

This time, I do my best to control my power as I catch the man, lifting him
off the ground. When he doesn't turn into red mush I chortle, pleased with
my ability to hold back. It's not easy for an ascended being to show that
much restraint. When you are used to channeling rivers of magic from an
ocean of power, you tend to forget how it feels like to take just a bucket of
power, or a droplet, like in this case.

“My mistake. The first test subject got a little messed up, but we can
scrape him off the walls and use what's left for a flesh golem. This one is
fairly intact, so we can try a simple zombification.”

I try to speak as clearly as possible to be heard despite the bone-chilling

screams of the man. Shaking the beggar I caught with a flex of my magic,
I bash his head against the wall, splitting it open like an egg.

“But first a little philosophy regarding my new religion. It's just basic
sense, but everyone has to start somewhere. If someone attacks you, you
react with extreme prejudice. You kill them, then you kill their friends and
their families, including any people they know, just to be sure.” I point
over my shoulder at Luxley without looking back. “You, my friend, may
be a king, but you are also a big wimp. Your kingdom should've never
gotten into a state in which your authority could be questioned. But don't
worry, we will rectify that.

“You see, there are several ways to make use of something useless, like
corpses. Many worlds would be better off if all that dead flesh wouldn't be
allowed to go to waste.” I wave my hand at the dead body. “There are
several ways to raise the dead.”

I demonstrate the easiest by casting a simple reanimation spell. Green

light surrounds the body, and he twitches rather ominously, a pained moan
escaping his throat.

“The most basic spell is a simple Animate Flesh, which takes control of a
dead body's nerves and animates its muscles, therefore creating what the
uneducated would call a zombie. Thanks to the spell, their nerve-centre
regains some of its lowest functions. This leaves you with a creature which
is reduced to its most basic instincts. It's also unable to replenish its own
power, and as soon as the supplied energy from the spell runs out, it will
return to being a corpse. Theoretically, I could also create an animated
skeleton with this spell. But it wouldn't last long and be a waste of energy,
since the spell would have to make up for all the non-existent muscles.
Always remember, it's the most energy efficient to use a fresh corpse. All
those stories of decayed zombies are just a myth. The fresher they are, the
better. Even the old Mirai knew that. That's why they were so skilled at
preserving and repairing corpses.”

Pointing at the now writhing and moaning body which is still held in place
by my force magic, I casually form a rather large spell formation.

“This second one is a little trickier, and I don't expect you to pick it up
immediately. But that's why we are going to train until you get it right.
Once a body dies, you have a few minutes before...” I stop, searching for
the right term. In the end, I decide to simplify things, since Luxley is
present. Going into the details of quantum-mechanics and the
metaphysical nature of the multiverse would probably be a little too much,
even for Karin.
“It pains me to over-simplify things, but let's just say that this man's soul
still has a tether to his body. And by rejoining his soul with his flesh, I can
turn him into a reanimated servant. Always make sure to include a way to
control someone who you bring back this way. They still have most of the
same memories and motivations they had while they were still alive.

“If you apply an altered form of healing magic, you can even take care of
some cosmetic issues.” With another wave, I restore the man to his former
self and he gasps as the wound on his head closes and the dent in his skull
is smoothed out.

Letting go of my force magic, I allow him to drop to the floor. “Just stay
there and wait for orders.”

The new servant obviously tries to rebel against the geas I placed in his
mind, but there is no way for him to break it.

“It will take a little studying, but once you have those spells under control,
I'll teach you a way to create an infectious version of this magic. There are
a few drawbacks which function as a safety mechanism, like a limited
lifetime for any infected. But if you anchor the spells yourself afterwards,
that can be remedied should you want to create an army of servants
quickly.”

I point down the corridor. “Go and hunt your comrades. Kill half of them
and bring us the other half alive.”

Yowling in terror of his own actions, the newly created servant skitters off
on all fours. I just hope anyone who encounters my little creation doesn't
realize that the screams aren't meant to intimidate the victim. I suppose it
can't be helped, so I stretch my arms and flex my fingers to loosen up.
“Right! The flesh golem is next. It's always beneficial to have something
up your sleeve if the body is damaged beyond repair.”

“Ahem.”

Willow clears her throat and I turn around, miffed that my willingness to
give a live-presentation was interrupted. It's not often that you get lessons
in Necromancy from a soul-mage.

But seeing my pupils, I understand why Willow felt the need to interrupt
me. Luxley is lying flat on his back, his eyes turned upwards in their
sockets, so that there is only the white visible. Karin also doesn't look like
she is well, but at least she didn't lose consciousness.

“When did he pass out?” I ask.

“Right after you reanimated the beggar,” Willow replies helpfully. “Are
you sure that he is good necromancer material?”

I huff. “He just has to learn if he wants to stay in my favour. No matter his
upbringing, he has the proper heritage and I'll be damned if one of my
distant descendants is unable to perform such simple magic!”

Wisely, I don't add that I only decided to take Luxley's side in order to piss
off Myrm. After all, a god's motivations have to be at least a little hard to
understand. There would be no way that people would worship me if they
knew that I am just as vain and emotionally driven as any random mortal
from the street.

“Excuse me,” Karin raises her hand, shaking.

“Yes?” I ask, feeling generous towards my protégé and wondering why she
is behaving so formal. Not that I don't like being paid the proper respect,
but I never indoctrinated the girl to do so.

“Isn't bringing back their soul and placing a 'geas' on them just as bad as
slavery?” She looks at me as if I am the evil one here, then in the direction
the zombie went. “It sounds even worse than slavery.”

“Karin, you have to understand that there are certain actions that get you
punished sooner or later.” I raise a finger. “Like being a dick, or attacking
someone far stronger than yourself. I thought you understood that there is
nothing evil in this world when you burned down that village with the
power I gave you.”
“But I didn't enslave anyone. I just punished them,” Karin complains.

I shake my head. “You could have done anything to them, girl. You were
perfectly within your rights. They enslaved you, killed your mother, and
raped you. Don't allow those who did that to you to put their morals and
values on you. As soon as they started threatening your existence, any
social rules couldn't be applied any longer. Social rules, laws, morals,
those concepts exist to make it easier for people to live with each other. As
soon as they refused to accept you as one of them, and demoted you to a
slave, a thing that could be killed at their whim, you no longer had to obey
their norms. Why should you restrict yourself to their morals if they aren't
willing to extend the same favour to you?”

She looks at Willow. “I thought he is against slavery.”

Willow shakes her head, using the tip of her slender shoe to draw circles
on the dusty ground. “Yeah... he is kind of hypocritical that way. To some
degree, he follows a moral code of his own, but if you happen to belong to
a certain group of people, those morals go straight out the window.” She
looks at Karin and whispers, “Just don't question it, or he will try to teach
you how the world works... according to him.”

I cross my arms in front of my chest. “What do you mean with, 'according

to me'?”

“Nothing,” she replies quickly. “Why don't you continue the lesson. If we
spend all day down here, your reanimated minion might cause a zombie
plague.”

I wave my hand dismissively. “Pah! I got that little issue under control a
long time ago. But you are right. I can demonstrate the Flesh Golem at any
time. Would you be so nice and carry the king while I instruct our young
student in the arts of magic? I suppose we have to start with the basics
first. Like drawing power and shaping it.”

Willow gasps. “You wouldn't! Why should I, a lady, carry him around
while you get to play teacher?”
I snort. “I think the both of us know that you are no lady. May I remind
you of last night? A lady would never-”

“Ascathon!” she quickly cuts me off. “Karin isn't old enough for that.”

I look at the girl. She just rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Didn't you just
confirm that I already had the misfortune of being introduced to this stuff?
You can hardly shock me at this point.”

“Actually...” I take a moment to consider Karin's situation. “...she is right.

You are one of the toughest kids I've ever met, Karin, but there are things
you aren't prepared for.” Turning back to Willow, I settle the matter with
her. “And you are going to carry him. You hit on him, so you carry him.”

“Me hitting on him wasn't the reason why he blacked out!” Willow
complains.

“And we aren't in that kind of relationship, so you carry him,” I reaffirm

and start walking down the corridor to find a few more test subjects.

“Actually, I know I already asked this question, but what's your

relationship?” Karin asks.

“Friends with benefits!” Willow answers quickly before I can state my

own version. Looking back, I see that she is carrying Luxley, so I refrain
from correcting her. It has been a few hundred years since she tried to kill
me, so I suppose that giving her a little slack is okay.

The Crystal City

Seria
“I am telling you, Myrm, just let it go! This isn't worth fighting over,” I
repeat myself for the umpteenth time, but Myrm doesn't get it.

Instead, she keeps insisting on bringing the matter up with Tjenemit.

“I can't believe that none of you are willing to stop him! What he is doing
is just wrong!” Myrm screams, her rage not subsiding. Ever since she
appeared in Studio 7 after her encounter with Ascathon, she threw a
temper tantrum of epic proportions.

Nazareth, the only deity who the deranged Myrm is willing to listen to,
joins in. “Listen, we understand that you don't like what he is doing, but
you are projecting your rage onto the wrong person.”

“How can he be the wrong person!?” Myrm hammers her fist onto the
table, making Nazareth flinch. “Nobody forces him to do the things he
does!”

Nazareth raises both hands and talks very quietly. “Okay... you want to
bring the matter up with Tjenemit, then bring it up with Tjenemit. But
ultimately, the Council is responsible for what's happening and none of us
want the Council's attention. If not Ascathon, then Tjenemit will force
another psycho to join the club. As long as Tjenemit wishes to go through
with this experiment, there will be no outcome that's acceptable to you.”

“Then they just have to give us someone who can be reasoned with!”
Myrm screams.

Leaning forward, I whisper, “Get yourself under control! Ascathon may

not be my favourite person in the multiverse right now, but at least he can
be reasoned with if you don't set him off!”

Myrm shakes her head, her helmet clinking. “I just don't understand why
all of you are so afraid of him.”

Nazareth slams his flat hand onto the table. “Now listen! You are new
here, just a few decades old. That's not much more than being a mere
infant in our circles. We-”

Unfortunately, that's exactly the moment when Tjenemit decides to make

an appearance. “You requested my presence in a matter of utter urgency?”
I slap my own forehead. How utterly idiotic can Myrm be? Did she really
call for a Council member directly!? We will all be lucky if Tjenemit
doesn't make us disappear.

Myrm, not heeding our advice, turns to face the ancient deity. “Finally!
You need to reign in Ascathon! He is going nuts on our planet!”

Tjenemit furrows his forehead. “Are you telling me that you can't deal
with him?”

“Of course not!” I interject and stand up. “Our Myrm is just new at the
business. After getting a little bit of experience, she will be up to it in no
time. It just so happens that with Ascathon and Myrm, two very strong
personalities are grating against each other. The fact that they are often
directly pitched against each other doesn't help.”

Wringing my hands, I try to find a diplomatic solution to this mess,

hoping that the Council member won't react in a drastic manner. “Maybe it
would be enough to tweak the world enchantment a little bit, so that two
opposing deities aren't summoned into the same place at the same time?”

Nazareth nods with fervour. “That's a great idea! After all, our true
purpose is finding people who have the potential to ascend without the
Council's help. Those who could become a threat to the ongoing peace.
Isn't it highly inefficient for two of your agents to be summoned to the
same place.”

“Hmmm...” Tjenemit scratches his chin. “What you are saying has merit.
I'll speak to the other Council members about what can be done. We are
always short on reliable hands, so this inefficiency in our system really
isn't necessary if it doesn't have to be.”

He looks at the ceiling, considering it.

“That doesn't change the problem with Ascathon!” Myrm interjects,

unfortunately.
“About that.” Tjenemit circles his finger. “I would like to hear his
perspective in order to understand the actual problem.”

There is a flash of light, and our dark-robed god of chaos appears out of
nowhere. With one hand in the air, his finger raised, it looks like he was
about to lecture somebody.

I suck in a sharp breath, praying. “Life and Death, give me strength.”

“What's going on?” Ascathon turns in a circle, trying to understand why he

is here.

“You are about to get an ass whooping!” Myrm proclaims loudly. “That's
what's about to happen.”

Ascathon ignores Myrm and turns to face Tjenemit instead.

“Explanation!” A moment passes until the god of chaos decides to add,
“...Please,” as an afterthought.

Tjenemit shrugs. “That's what I am trying to find out. Myrm said that you
were overly unruly. Would you please give me a summary of what you
have been doing on your assigned planet?”

Ascathon's expression suddenly becomes very guarded and he starts

picking his words very carefully. “Well, what I am supposed to do?” Then
he proceeds to give Tjenemit a very clinical summary of all his actions so
far.

The Council member turns on Myrm. “I don't see your problem. Ascathon
is just, doing what we want him to do. He is representing the dark side of
things so that no possible candidates can slip past our attention.”

Myrm seems stunned for a moment, and then she explodes. “He is killing
innocent people with his actions left and right for no good reason! If you
are unwilling to show him the error of his ways, then I will!”

Ascathon raspberries, amused. “Please! What can you do!? I've seen you
struggling with a simple healing spell. It was pathetic!”
Before I can stop her, Myrm is next to Ascathon, her hand coming down
with a karate-chop on her unprepared adversary. A hastily erected mana-
shield breaks with the sound of cracking glass, and then there is a – 'crack'
– as the bones in Ascathon's neck yield to the brutal attack.

The god of chaos falls straight onto his back and twitches for two seconds
before he lies still. With the ceasing of his erratic spasms, the room falls
into complete and utter silence.

I gape at the scene, not believing that Myrm just did that. Attacking
another god while his aura is down is a serious breach of etiquette.
Normally, a god's fully released aura protects them from any random
attack. Breaking through a god's aura requires large amounts of power,
which is the main reason why gods shouldn't fight directly with each other.

It's also why gods normally don't run around with their auras released. Not
only is it a defensive measure, but also required to break through another
god's aura. Having one's aura released is a threatening move in of itself.

Myrm just broke several social rules of the Crystal City by attacking
another god who had his aura down. This may even cause severe
repercussions, not to mention that killing another immortal without
making sure that he or she can't retaliate once they reincarnate, is a
seriously brain-dead move!

“See!?”

Myrm places her fists on her hips, striking a pose. “Nothing to be afraid
of, idiots. Just like any other mage. You brain them, and then you dance a
jig on top of their corpse.”

Before either Tjenemit or I can find a proper response, Nazareth voices his
opinion with loud fervour. “Fool! You just-”

In that very moment, someone kicks in the door to Studio 7, and a black-
haired beauty strolls into the room like a queen to a banquet. Surveying
her audience, she smiles brilliantly, the incarnation of seduction and
femininity. “Am I late?” she purrs with a haughty voice that sends a shiver
down my spine.

“This is so wrong,” I mumble to myself. “So very wrong.”

My stomach twists at the sight of her, especially since I know exactly who
just re-entered the room. Maybe I should warn Myrm? But something tells
me that warning her would make the situation even worse.

“Who are you?” Myrm asks, turning to face the newcomer.

“Oh,” the beauty with porcelain skin smacks her red lips. “You must be
new.” Rolling her hips, she approaches Myrm. “All the older gods know
me as Nova, but that probably doesn't mean much to you.” She stops in
front of the god of order. “But! You can also call me the Necromantic
Bane.”

Myrm tilts her head in confusion. “Like-”

Before Myrm can finish, Nova launches a perfectly executed kick against
her opponent's groin. With a metal-denting impact, Myrm is launched up
into the air until she is at the perfect height for the spell-charged fist of
Nova's to punch into – and through – Myrm's belly, spraying blood all over
the wall and Tjenemit.

The force of the impact transfers through the armour to the rest of Myrm's
body and she is flung away.

Having been struck beneath her centre of gravity, Myrm somersaults

forwards while flying backwards until she hits the far wall like a fly would
a wind-shield.

Screeching like a fury, Nova is on top of her victim in an instant,

pummelling Myrm with her bare fists, denting the helmet of her adversary
with each blow. By now it's obvious that Myrm didn't get up her guard in
time, and that if we don't do something immediately, she will be the one
who dies next.
Jumping to my feet, I charge Nova and grab her left hand as she tries
digging her fingers into the visor of Myrm's helmet. Tjenemit is also on
her, and together, we pull the screeching fury off of Myrm's battered
remains.

“Get a hold of yourself!” Tjenemit commands.

“Let me kill that asshole!” Nova cries! “I'll make him my bitch for all
eternity and then some! Hurensohn! Huditz! несто́ящий челове́к! Let me
scratch the soul out of that body and eat it!”

Tjenemit shoves Nova back, away from Myrm. “What did I tell you guys
about fighting each other!” And then he whispers. “I will only say this
once. Only because you didn't start it. And only because you and Myrm are
useful individuals! Back off now! There will be no fighting and no second
chance.”

The muscles of Nova's jaw work as she fights with the decision of whether
to attack or to back down. At last, I let out a breath when she turns around
and picks up Ascathon's... her... his other body.

Man... I'll never get used to this.

Carrying her other body over her right shoulder in an undignified manner,
she turns around. “I'll be off to repair this body. In the future, please
refrain from calling me to meetings which get me killed. And get that wild
animal under control! I don't have many suitable spare-bodies lying
around.”

Then, with a flash of light and a few sparks, she is gone.

Tjenemit coughs. “That female version of him is hot. She should just
admit that she is better suited to being a woman.” Then he finally
processes Nova's parting words. “Wait... does that mean that he has more
than two bodies?”

“I don't want to know,” I whine, trying to banish the thought.

“Could you help me here with Myrm?” Nazareth's voice draws my
attention, and I turn around to find him doing his best to lend first-aid to
Myrm with his healing magic.

Myrm coughs, splattering a torrent of blood through her visor.

Sighing, I approach them. “We need to get that helmet off.”

Tjenemit shakes his head. “I'll be going then, but teach that young one how
things work in the Crystal City. Myrm is new, so I will give her one last
chance. Make sure that it isn't wasted.”
 Chapter 9

The Crystal City

Seria
*Slap!*

“Good morning!”

*Slap!*

“Rise and shine!”

*Slap!*

“Dawn has broken, Myrm!” I slap her another time, ignoring the fact that
Myrm’s eyes are already open. Some people would call me vain for doing
so, but that last slap was for my own sake. Stupid Myrm, she should have
just listened to me!

“Wha- what happened?” Myrm sits up, inspecting her damaged armour
and the ruined helmet next to her. There is still an imprint in the metal,
shaped like a delicate female hand. We also had to take off her chest-plate,
since the metal was dented inwards, making it impossible to heal her
properly.

I volunteered a simple, white shirt from my own clothes to cover her up in

the meantime.

“Where is everyone? And where is that bitch!?” She reaches up, inspecting
her face for damage and feeling the strands of her short, straw-coloured
hair. Her elven ears poke out from beneath an elaborately braided hairdo.

If it weren’t for my efforts, her face would still look like a mashed piece
of meat, but now it’s back to its elvish beauty. Her cheekbones are no
longer rearranged into a horrid copy of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The
sharp angles of her face punctuate the image of a martial artist, giving
Myrm’s features a special beauty which can be respected not only for
female charm but also for health and athleticism.

A real shame that she is hiding behind that helmet and armour all of the
time. Since she took on the planet’s local god of order’s identity, she stuck
to the role like no other. I admit that by impersonating the image the locals
had of their god of light, she has an easier time finding followers, but
that’s not something I wanted her to do.

My plan was for her to get together with Ascathon and make him a little
more pliable towards my plans. But I clearly made a mistake. Thanks to
Tjenemit, their introduction went all wrong and like two combustible
chemicals, they went up in flames, and not the lovey-dovey way.

The worst thing is that I can’t risk telling them the truth. At least not now.
Their current personalities aren’t on the best terms with me, and who
knows what they might do if they learn of my end-goal?

If push comes to shove, they might even end up fighting for the wrong
side, and that’s something I have to avoid at all costs.

Having to fight them would be… bad.

That’s what I get for carefully guiding Myrm back to the path of godhood.
I painfully selected the places of her reincarnations, making sure that the
circumstances and locations of her various lives would ensure a quick
ascendency. At least as quick as it can be. I still had to choose parts of the
multiverse where time flows differently in order to accelerate her growth.
That allowed her to achieve what normally takes millennia within mere
centuries of subjective time.
Not to mention how difficult it was to snatch away her soul from beneath
Ascathon’s watchful eyes. After a few decades, their relationship had gone
down an unacceptable path, so I had to intervene in order to achieve my
ultimate goal.

“Seria?” Myrm looks up at me after finally realizing that Studio 7 is

empty, except for the two of us.

I sigh. “You fucked up!”

“Wha-”

“No!” I raise a finger, hopefully looking as angry as I am. “You were very
lucky today. I dropped more than enough hints about the Council, yet you
go and draw Tjenemit’s attention! We were just lucky that he was more
amused by this farce than anything else. For the last time, the Council
members are dangerous.

“Things aren’t as they seem. I know that the public propaganda machine
says that the Council is managing the ascendancy of new gods for the sake
of all, but you have to understand that everything in the Crystal City is
about control. Fuck up, look like someone who is more trouble than
necessary, and Tjenemit will end you. Permanently!”

Drawing a deep breath, I continue my rant before Myrm can speak up.
“Turning Ascathon into an enemy also wasn’t the smartest move! Haven’t
we warned you that he is a soul-mage? He is capable of playing around
with things that even a god doesn’t want meddled with. Souls!”

“But you also know soul-magic,” Myrm interrupts like a petulant child.
“Aren’t you-”

“And he knows even more!” I probably shouldn’t tell her that what I do
know, I learned from him. That could raise a few questions I would rather
not answer. “I am a taught dabbler, while he is a natural genius in the field.
If you want to fight him, then you can do it on your own. I may not like
him, but I certainly won’t throw myself between the two of you. That
pretty lady who gave you the smack-down of the millennium was another
body of his. When you killed him, he just switched to a different body. I
don’t even know how many bodies he has.”

“I-”

“And just so you know, you made yourself an enemy! Ascathon isn’t the
type of person who forgives and forgets. Unless you manage to reincarnate
him often enough for him to forget about you assassinating him, he will
harbour a grudge for centuries until he finds a way to pay you back! I had
to pull him off of you or he would have taken your soul. And if Tjenemit
hadn’t intervened, Ascathon wouldn’t have backed down. I am sure
Tjenemit won’t do that again if the two of you get to blows.”

Myrm sets her jaw in defiance, telling me that I didn’t get through that
thick skull of hers. Picking up her ruined helmet and the damaged parts of
her armour, she gets to her feet. Then she bows to me, maybe in a little too
formal manner. “Thank you for healing me and for stopping Ascathon. I’ll
now go and find someone who can repair my armour… and I also have to
apologize to Tjenemit.”

“Don’t!” I warn her. “In fact. Don’t seek any contact with any of the
Council members until you've had time to learn what’s going on within the
Crystal City. Just let it be and don’t draw any more attention.”

Myrm presses her lips together. “It would help me a lot if you just told me
what’s going on.”

I shake my head. “You are too young to help. Once you have a few
centuries of experience, you may be able to help me. But right now, the
best way to help everyone is to keep your head down. Just follow the
advice of those older than you. Go back to the world and develop your
powers without drawing any attention.”

I don’t know whether Myrm will follow my advice or not. Without taking
the risk of telling her too much, I can just hope for the best. Of course, I
could involve Myrm in the plan, but she is too smart for that. Once she
gets a glimpse of the whole, she would piece together that there is more to
my actions than it seems. One question would lead to another, and
everything might come apart before I am ready.

A proper explanation might also trigger some of her dormant memories,

and only the universe knows what she might do then.

We hold eye contact for a long moment and finally Myrm nods. She turns
away and uses a pathway to some unknown destination.

I remain in Studio 7, watching the pathway’s energies fade. These ley-lines

of power which allow the gods to travel instantly throughout the whole
multiverse are essential to my plan. A small smirk steals itself onto my
face as I imagine the Council’s reactions to the final stages of my plan.

The World
Karin
“You are back!”

Having heard the familiar flash of electricity from outside the living room,
I dash into the central hallway of Ascathon’s secret base. There, I stop
dead, faced with an otherworldly beauty who is carrying Ascathon on her
back.

After five hours of hunting dissidents and giving us personal training in

Luxley’s castle, Ascathon was abruptly teleported away, leaving us alone
with the disillusioned King Luxley who had regained his consciousness.

Not wanting to risk any more time out alone in the world, Willow rounded
me up and used some special artefact to teleport us back to the hideout,
leaving Luxley alone to deal with his problems. The king didn’t look too
happy about his situation, although thanks to Ascathon he had an army of
necromantic beings at his beck and call by then. In addition, Ascathon had
given him detailed instructions to seek out the assistance of the Order of
Chaos. So I think that Luxley must be fine, even if we left him out in the
cold.

Willow follows me out of the living room, immediately recognizing the

beauty. “Nova! What happened to your other body?”

That’s when I recognize the woman from the tube, Ascathon’s other body. I
was about to say something really stupid to the stranger regarding her
carrying around Ascathon, so Willow kind of saved me there.

“The idiot killed my body!” Nova complains. “Attacked for no reason at

all!”

“Which idiot?” Willow’s expression turns wary. “Did it come to blows

with Seria?”

“Not with Seria. Myrm, that bastard!” Nova shakes her fist. “He
summoned me to a meeting with Tjenemit and when things didn’t go his
way, he attacked, apparently to prove a point.”

Willow lets out the breath she held, making it clear that she wouldn’t have
been happy about a fight between Ascathon and this Seria person. “I
assume that you didn’t let the matter rest. Do we have to run?”

“Yes and no,” Nova grumbles, turning to walk down the hallway towards
her laboratory. “I went back immediately and fucked up Myrm pretty
good. Sadly, Seria and Tjenemit stopped me from finishing the job. They
should take care of their own matters, and not interfere with my battles. I
was the one who was attacked, so the least they could have done was to
stand aside.”

“Didn’t you tell us that Tjenemit forbade any fighting?” Willow asks as
we reach the lab. “I suppose that he doesn’t want to search for new job
applicants.”

We reach the same operating table on which I woke up after I killed

myself.
Nova snorts and slams her body down on the table, then proceeds to
interact with some devices which are now – after I got a session inside the
neural learning machine – a little less mythical to me. I still don’t know
exactly how everything works, but at least the mystical element is gone
since I know now that everything is based on magical and physical laws.

The medical scanner is in her hand and she proceeds by injecting

Ascathon’s body with some regenerative nanites. I wince when she bends
his head back into a normal position, causing the undesirable noise of
bones grating against each other.

When she is done, she notices my attention and turns to face me. “Is there
something you need?”

“I, ah...” I try to quickly find an appropriate answer, but my brain shorts
out. What should I tell her? What’s the proper answer in a situation like
this? I suppose her treating her other body is an intimate situation – his
other. Do I use 'her' or 'his'? I am confused. This is so unexpected. I never
expected that I would have to face her in a situation like this.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear a fuse sizzle and finally
*pop*.

“I just thought that you are so beautiful. Why don’t use this body all the
time? Not that Ascathon is unpleasant to have around, but having only
women here somehow makes me feel more at ease,” I blurt out and my
eyes widen when I realize what I just said.

Nova’s mouth opens and closes, clearly lost for words.

Willow’s snickering from behind me makes the awkward situation even

worse and then she drops the ultimate bomb. “I think our little girl here
has a mommy-complex for beautiful women. Didn’t you notice how doe-
eyed she is since seeing you in this body.”

Nova forces herself to smile as she looks at me, but I can tell that her
smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I am sorry, but I prefer my male persona.
Over the centuries I’ve learned to deal with being either gender. It comes
with time and having to deal with multiple reincarnations. That doesn’t
change that at my core I prefer to be a man.”

“Ah, okay.” Damn me and my mouth. How do I save this conversation?

Oh, right! “How did you even get to have two bodies? Going by your
earlier explanation, I thought that Nova is dead?”

Nova wriggles her hand in a so-so manner. “Willow can explain to you
who and what the Council is, but the short story is that I wanted to get
away from them. They have this whole control-shindig going on. Their
usual mode of operation is to detect the awakening of new gods, thanks to
the excessive mana outburst that usually comes with it.

“They then summon you to the Crystal City, a place only for gods, and
give you the whole theatricals of how ‘they’ decided to elevate you to
godhood. But all their summoning circle really does is to teleport the new
god to them. You also get tagged with a sort of metaphysical homing
beacon which allows them to find you.

“Usually, the new god is then sent back out into the multiverse until he or
she gets used to their new state of being. They then slowly reel the useful
ones back into the folds of the Crystal City and the Council. Unfortunately
for them, I realized that they were toying with me. Something isn’t right
with the Council and over the centuries I learned that some gods disappear
from time to time. They just vanish, soul and all.”

“You mentioned something about lost friends.” I nod. “But what does that
have to do with you having two bodies?”

“I had a theory. The only way their homing device can work is to sense a
soul’s – I am making this easier than it actually is – specific quantum
signature. My plan was to kill myself, but not to go through the usual
reincarnation process. Instead, I attempted to change my soul’s signature
while I was in a disembodied state. Sadly, it didn’t work out as I originally
planned.”

“That’s when he/she became even more nuts than she already was,”
Willow whispers from behind me. “Before that, she was just a psychotic
bitch, but now he is a gender-confused psychotic bitch with a split
personality and anger management issues.”

Nova presses her lips together, glaring Willow.

The silver woman shrugs, looking a little guilty. “What? It’s the truth.”

“I explained several times that a soul – per definition – has no gender!

What you call a soul is just an abstract structure of energies that rearrange
themselves according to a person’s experiences in life. They are energies.
No gender! Maybe I should send you through a few reincarnation
processes just to teach you. Come to think of it, you had a much too easy
life over the last few centuries. When was the last time you died?”

Willow clears her throat. “A couple of centuries, master.”

I decide that interrupting them now might be a good idea. Before I become
witness to Willow’s death and resurrection… I am getting way too used to
this. “Ahem, regarding your experiment, I assume that something went
wrong?”

“Yes and no,” Nova answers, still glaring at Willow. “I managed to

disconnect my consciousness from this body.” She points at herself. “But I
didn’t manage to change my soul’s signature.”

“When I found myself in Ascathon’s body, I realized that my initial plan

failed. Apparently, it’s impossible to influence a soul’s signature to the
extent I intended. What happened, though, is that I accidentally attuned
two bodies to my soul. I can now switch back and forth without my soul
suffering the shock of losing its tether to the material universe.”

“It’s actually pretty neat,” Willow interjects. “It means that he has one free
death as long as he keeps both of the bodies alive. That’s why he always
keeps Nova stored in that tube over there.” She waves her hand in the
direction of the apparatus that held Nova’s body. “It’s a machine from an
advanced world that was developed for coma-patients. It ensures that there
is no muscle degradation or other ill side effects of long-term sleep.”
“I think I understand. Thanks for explaining.” I smile. “The more I learn,
the more I doubt if it’s wise to become an immortal.”

“Hahaha.” Willow ruffles my hair. “Don’t worry! In time, we will turn you
to the dark side.”
 Chapter 10

The World
Ascathon
Opening my eyes, I reach for my neck and carefully try to massage the
strained muscles which feel like I slept in a wrong position for a whole
night. When there is no instant reaction of gruesome pain, I sit up, circling
my head to relax the musculature. It’s unpleasant, but it has to be done.
“Man, having your neck broken really twinges. Haven’t felt something
that uncomfortable for a long time,” I complain to myself.

Lowering my guard to the point that someone like Myrm could just strike
me dead was really lazy of me. At least it was a wake-up call without
long-term consequences.

“Having your neck broken just twinges?” Karin asks with a forlorn
expression on her face, clearly not happy that I changed back to my male
persona. She turns, looking back in the direction where my Nova-body is
sleeping inside the Cryo-tube.

“Hah!” I swing my legs off the operating table and get to my feet. “Girl,
you have no idea what manner of deaths I experienced over my various
lifetimes. Especially when I was just a fledgling immortal and couldn’t
back up my ego with the skills I have nowadays.” I sigh, remembering the
old times without any desire to return. Back then, every day was a
struggle, and most of the time there were others who told me what to do
with my life.
“People must have killed you left and right,” Willow joins in, nodding to
show her approval of the assessment.

I glare at her.

She circles her hand, elaborating, “I mean, you are really not a people-
person. I am only going by what I know about your life on this world, but
from the point you got freed from being a slave it took you less than a year
until half the governments in the world wanted to kill you.”

“You also were a slave once upon a time?” Karin asks, then she furrows
her forehead. “How does a powerful immortal get turned into a slave?”

I clear my throat. “Let’s just say that I was unlucky enough to be born into
the occupation. And back then, there was something that’s called a slave-
collar. It forces the one who wears it to obey every whim and command of
their owner. They pretty much wipe out your free will.”

“That’s just disgusting!” Karin cries out. “I am glad that the slavers in my
old village didn’t have those. Life would have been so much worse.”

I raise an eyebrow at that and Karin shrugs. “I mean, if you have your free
will, you can at least take some little revenge, like spitting into your
owner’s food, or stealing some more to eat.”

“The collars were actually pretty common back then,” Willow informs
Karin. “In the Empire, their use was so widely spread that you could
distinguish between two classes, free people and slaves.”

“What happened?”

Willow points at me. “He happened… or rather, back then he was Nova.
The Necromantic Bane ended the Eternal War and wiped out most of the
larger governments. Then Nova proceeded to persecute anyone and
everyone who was in possession of slave-collars, or the knowledge of how
to make one. It was the single, largest manhunt in the history of our world.
When Nova started it, I didn’t believe it possible, but eventually she really
managed to wipe out any and all knowledge that might lead to the creation
of such a collar.”

“Is that why everyone despises her as the Necromantic Bane?” Karin asks.
“If they were so common, then Nova’s actions must have been felt
throughout all levels of society.”

“I didn’t give a shit,” I clarify. “Back then, this world had the highest
density of assholes I ever encountered. Half of the continent was openly
practising slavery on a horrendous scale, while the other half used that fact
to wage an unending war in which they burned their undesirables. And
then they all objected to outlawing any knowledge on mind-control
techniques. As if I was taking away their favourite toy. If you ask me, they
got what they deserved.”

“I told you that he is not a people-person,” Willow interjects, twirling a

strand of her silver hair between her fingers.

“I did them a favour!” I complain. “And now history paints me as the

villain.”

“He is kind of sore on the subject,” Willow elaborates in a good-natured

manner.

“My rule should be remembered as a golden age,” I rant, working myself

into a rage. Didn’t I bring a millennium of peace and education to this
world? And it took these savages less than a century to destroy everything
I built!

“Well, you tended to kill off anyone who had a different opinion from
you,” Willow points out. “Or you just turned them into undead and had
them work for you against their will.”

“What I did was for the good of the world and the people. The ones who
opposed me called themselves freedom-fighters! But they just used that as
a facade to paint themselves as the good ones. In reality, they just wanted
to return to their old ways. To a world where the strong prey on the weak.”
I have to make this clear to Karin, or she might get the wrong picture of
history.

“I am sure that ‘all’ the orks in the north-eastern regions deserved having
nukes thrown on them until the soil glowed in the night,” Willow points
out.

Karin gasps. “You are responsible for the Wastelands?”

“And for the Great Divide. That huge crater in the centre of the continent,
the one that’s still glowing today,” Willow adds.

I round on my servant. “Quit telling her just snippets of the whole story! It
makes me look bad!”

“But you are so good at being the bad guy. You are probably the single,
largest mass-murderer in our world’s history. That’s something to be proud
of. I, as a former assassin, must know,” the Elemental replies half-
heartedly.

Before I can lunge forward to strangle her, Karin raises her hand. “Please
don’t start fighting over things that happened a thousand years ago. I was
just interested in learning what really happened, but it’s clearly not a story
that can be told in a few words.”

“Yes,” I sigh. “A history of a millennium can’t be told in just a few

words.”

I turn, gesturing Willow to take over Karin’s education. “Why don’t you
tell the kid what happened – without leaving anything out. But don’t forget
the rest of her education over it.”

“Typical man! The woman has to do the work while you run off and-”

Willow’s complaint is cut off as I use a pathway to escape what would’ve

surely turned into a tirade. Even if she is my minion and has to do what I
say, a good overlord has to know when to let his subordinates nag.
I appear high above the world and loosen the tight control over my aura,
trying to relax as I drift in the upper stratosphere, almost at the border to
space and protected by nothing but the pure power flowing through my
being. From time to time I just have to let go and this is the only place I
can do so.

Doing so, I look down on the single, large continent which makes up
eighty percent of the world’s landmass.

The rest are some small islands, the largest of them the pirate islands in
the north-east, and the former trading centre of the Consortium in the
north-west. Both political powers are long lost in the history of time.

I suddenly realize that I know next to nothing about the current political
state of the world.

All I do know, I gained by taking short glimpses into the minds of random
worshippers who made the mistake of summoning me. The most reliable
information I got was from Luxley. But even if his kingdom is a
stabilizing factor on a big part of the main-continent’s southern coast, it is
still just a small piece of the puzzle.

Since my time as the Necromantic Bane, the world’s governments became

much more localized. The fear of another dictator was ingrained so deeply
into most leadership groups that they didn’t dare to rebuild governments
on the same scale. Or rather, they couldn’t.

As soon as some local warlord transpires to take control of neighbouring

regions, others rise in fear of history repeating itself. It’s the reason why
the world has trouble shaking off the memory of my rule.

I grumble, looking down on the world.

If the Necromantic Bane is still something that’s feared to such a degree,

then it’s to be expected that any public actions of my followers will cause
an immediate reaction. Whether they want to or not, those who remember
the truth will flock to my banner. On the same account, there will be those
who arrange themselves against me.
Myrm will surely be one of them.

The crackling of someone using a pathway draws my attention, and Seria

appears next to me.

“Could you tone it down a bit?” She gestures with her hand, indicating that
I should switch something off. She herself has her aura partly released and
is resisting the pressure of my power with ease.

“Tone down what?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“Your aura.” She gestures at the planet beneath us. “The mortals are going
stir-crazy: ‘Oh, we are all doomed! The red star is shining again,
promising the return of chaos and war and death!’ ” She throws her hands
dramatically up in the air. “They are turning me crazy.”

“They are saying that?” I ask, cheering up. “That’s actually pretty nice. I
didn’t know that my relaxation sessions have such an effect on the planet.”

“They aren’t exactly a star-faring culture, and ominous red lights

appearing above their heads force the religious zealots out of their hidey-
holes.” She gestures in a shooing motion at me. “So, could you turn it
down?”

Rolling my eyes, I gather my energies and pack them away, shutting them
tightly within me until there is just enough left to keep me alive in this
hostile environment. “Happy?”

She nods. “Better.”

Seria is already in the process of turning away, apparently with the

intention of immediate departure, when she turns back to face me. “Come
to think of it. Do you have any idea where Marigold is?”

“Marigold?” I ask. “No. Why should I know? Shouldn’t you be able to find
him easily with your infamous tracking skills?”

She purses her lips. “Only if a member of the Council gives me his soul’s
signature. And I don’t want to ask them for it, possibly drawing their
attention.”

“I see.”

When I don’t show any sign of giving up more information, she continues.
“It’s just that Nazareth and Marigold normally stick together like identical
twins. But recently Marigold was absent for long periods of time, and
nobody has seen him for days.”

I blink. “Just a few days? What are you so worried about? I frequently see
no other god for months.”

“Not everyone is as antisocial as you, so are you absolutely sure that you
don’t know where he could be?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest,
looking at me accusingly. “It’s just strange that you were the last person
who he was seen talking to.”

“Hmm.” I scratch the stubbles on my chin. “I certainly did nothing to him.

We just made a little small-talk about the current situation.” Then I
remember. “Ah! That’s right! I gave him a little tip.”

“A tip?”

“Yes, well. It’s a vacation resort of sorts, nothing to worry about.” I wave
my hand dismissively. “If he went there, then he is fine. Just give him a
little time. He will show up eventually.”

“Eventually?” Her eyes narrow. “Now I do worry. Where exactly is this

vacation resort? We will get Nazareth and search for him.”

“No, really. Just give him some time. I am sure he is fine. Trust me.”

“That’s it! We are going there, and you will show us the way.” She gestures
for me to stay put as if I am some kind of dog. “Wait right there. I’ll go
and get Nazareth.” She vanishes, taking one of the pathways.

Either my reaction was simply too slow, or I was too dumbfounded to get
the fuck away from there. In any case, before I managed to come up with
the proper reaction of simply teleporting away, Seria reappeared with a
disoriented Nazareth in tow.

“We are ready.” She shoos me on with a gesture. “Just lead the way and we
follow.”

“Seria, I know that we aren’t on the best of terms, but Marigold really
isn’t at risk if he followed my advice. He will have a good time, and then
he will show up again,” I try to explain without giving away too much. For
some reason, I really don’t want to lead Seria to a place like the Plains of
Pleasure.

Unfortunately, Nazarath chooses to intervene at that moment. “If Marigold

is fine, then it should be no problem if you lead us there for us to check.
Once we know for sure that he isn’t there, we at least won’t waste our time
by searching other places.”

Somehow I can’t dispute that logic… and if Marigold turns out to be the
latest victim of gods disappearing, then I don’t want to find myself
connected to the following investigation. That would be a hassle.

“Fine!”

I turn, searching the sky for the necessary pathway, allowing my instincts
as an ascended being to pick out the one right choice among uncountable
billions of possibilities. Then I reach out with my mind, following the
pathway through space, time, and dimensions.

We appear on a flat, grassy landscape with lush vegetation sprinkled

across gently rising and falling hills. It would be a perfectly fine scenery,
if it weren’t for the fact that the vegetation presented itself in tones of blue
and pink, with a red sky with no sun overhead.

Seria’s and Nazareth’s eyes immediately fixate on the castle in front of us,
its gates looming open, presenting themselves like a maw to swallow any
visitor whole.
Above the gate, the letters - P.o.P. - are inscribed in pink letters on the
castle's obsidian stone.

“Ahh,” I sigh, remembering some fond memories. “This place didn’t

change at all.”

I gesture for my companions to follow. “Come. And remember, these are

the infernal planes of lust and pleasure. Most of the beings here are
demons and rank on the lower scale of minor deities.”

“Which means?” Nazareth asks, looking offended.

“That you would probably have problems fighting them off, but Seria and
I are above their weight level. Although, if a few dozen of them gang up
on us we should probably run,” I explain, guiding them towards the gate.

“I thought this place isn’t dangerous?” Seria asks, but before I can reply
she gasps upon passing a large plant right next to the path. “What the
fuck!?”

I stop, inspecting the plant. It’s a large pot-like thing with a leaf as a lid,
and as I watch, the outlines of a screaming face become visible as the
occupant of the carnivorous plant presses his head against the wall.
“What!?” Ignoring the scene, I quickly search our surroundings for the
real threat.

Nazareth points at the plant. “There is someone inside it!”

Returning my attention shortly to the plant, I give Nazareth ‘the look’.

“Well, duh… we are on the plains of pleasure, guys. Did you miss the
‘infernal’ in the description? You find everything in this place. From
benign lovemaking to S&M and Vore, your fantasies will be fulfilled. The
guy in there is probably having the time of his life.”

They look at me.

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you two are complete virgins. Just think of
this place as the kinky kind. Now let’s go. This dimension is running on a
one to twenty timescale compared to the one we just left. It means that
every day in this place costs me twenty days to further my ‘evil’ plans in
the world.”

I take the lead, aiming without error for the open gate. “Now, where is the
gatekeeper?” Stepping past the threshold, I search for a succubus.
Normally, there is always one of the girls guarding the place, demanding
and entrance-fee for partaking in the pleasures the castle offers.

When I find the gate strangely unguarded, I take a look into the
guardroom, from where I hear pained moans, although it could also be
from pleasure. The entrance is embedded to the left in the castle’s stupidly
thick walls, right behind the gate. The room itself is rather spartan with
just a table and a few chairs.

On top of the table is a man, although there isn’t much more than skin and
bones left. He almost looks like a really dried up zombie, one that was
summoned incorrectly. Kneeling above him is a red-skinned girl with
flaming red hair. Her nicely shaped butt is high in the air while she is
fingering herself, her demon tail curling in pleasure while she deep-throats
her lucky victim’s member with skilled expertise. Purring happily, she
bobs her head with vigour while the man moans in pleasure and pain at the
same time.

“I would recognize that heart-shaped butt anywhere in the multiverse,” I

announce myself. “If it isn’t the lovely Felicia! How are your mother and
your sisters?”

With a wet slurp, the succubus lets go of the man’s organ and turns around.
Her dilated pupils focus on me as she licks her luscious lips. Then she
recognizes me and squeals, jumping off the table, she charges me and
gives me a hug, ignoring the fact that she is completely naked.

“Ascathon! It has been so long since you showed your face. Mom will
surely be happy to hear from you!”

To my dismay, she kisses me on both cheeks, thankfully avoiding the

lips… I have to wash later.
Looking behind me, she notices Seria and Nazareth and purrs with a
wicked grin. “More guests?”

“Yeah, not really. We can’t stay for long since we are just checking on a
friend. A half-orc, huge guy, and a god. Have you seen him?” I pat
Felicia's head and smile jovially, avoiding the cute little horns on her
forehead which are sharper than they look.

She wriggles. “Maybe? I think Mom invited him into her tower?”

“Ah, that’s fine.” I smile. “Like I said, we are just checking since his
friends are worried.”

“…elp… heelp…” the living corpse on the table moans, interrupting our
reunion. “The Imaam promised me that I would have seventy-two virgins
in Jannah if I just killed the infidels! As al-Ghazali …” the man keeps on
babbling something incomprehensible, clearly lost within his delusions.

Yeah, well. Doing it with a succubus isn't that healthy for those with feeble
minds. I doubt that he will get past Felicia if he already looks like this
from a mere blowjob. In any case, there are still forty sisters to go
through.

“A friend?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“A snack.” Felicia glides back to the table, and I notice that the man’s pole
didn’t flag while we were talking. “Sis brought him over for me as dinner.
Playing gate-guardian is just too boring.” She climbs back onto the table,
throwing a leg over the man, mounting him reverse cowgirl style. “I think
she snatched him from some version of earth.”

Without caring about the audience, Felicia impales herself on ‘the snack’
and starts gyrating her hips. “Just…” She moans lustfully as a pentagram
starts glowing right above her groin. “…go on. You know the way.”

Still smiling, I turn around and usher Seria and Nazareth out of the
guardroom. “We will be going then.”
Ignoring both of my companions' glares, I lead the way deeper into the
castle.
 Chapter 11

The World
Ascathon
“What the hell is this place?” Seria whispers as soon as she catches up to
me after leaving the guardroom.

“It’s Castle P.o.P., owned by Mistress Ashley and her forty-one daughters,”
I explain. “A while ago I reincarnated in this dimension, and since I
became a god I remembered and now I am paying visits from time to time.
But the time dilation between this dimension and the one we call home
makes it a real hassle.”

Seria gasps. “You reincarnated in a place like this?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. The people here are really powerful and their
bodies are essentially immortal. Some of them can even open gateways to
other dimensions, but they lack the spark of godhood that allows them to
use the pathways for travel. I think it has something to do with the fact
that this dimension is really mana-rich,” I explain, waving greetings to a
naked succubus girl who passes us. “Hi, Isabel, it has been a long time
since we saw each other.”

“Ascathon! Are you visiting Mom? Make sure to pass by my room before
you run off again.” The girl blows me a kiss, which seems to annoy Seria,
and then Isabel continues on with a little more spring in her step than
before.

I guide my comrades down the main corridor towards Ashley’s part of the
castle while I proceed with my explanation. “I reincarnated in this world
as a random warrior-demon and had a little fun doing the things demons
do. You know, being summoned by stupid mortals, fighting, and robbing.
The culture of this place is really violent. If you aren’t strong enough to
defend what’s yours, you may as well give it away before someone takes
your stuff.”

“That sounds really unpleasant!” But then Seria reconsiders her initial
reaction and mumbles, “This place actually seems like it was made for
you.”

“Ah, the demons in this dimension are actually less violent than the people
in our world. At least they don’t pretend to be on the good side. The really
awful ones are poisoned or assassinated pretty quickly once they make
themselves too many enemies. In any case, I happened to sell my services
to a local demon-lord. This castle belonged to him, including Ashley and
her daughters who he kept as his personal harem.”

I am still a little disgusted that he did it with his own daughters, but
succubi can apparently choose if they want to get a child. So, according to
my knowledge, there was never an incident.

I wave my hand. “Things happened, and one night at a party I got really
drunk. It was after a large battle with a neighbouring demon clan. When it
came to the distribution of the spoils I had an argument with the bastard.”
Sighing, I continue, “He tried to cheat me of what I was owed and one
thing led to another. Before I knew it, he was dead.”

Wincing at the memory, I wave a hand as we pass a room full with succubi
who are busy fucking various visitors of the castle. Not caring for the
scene, I walk past without much interest while Nazareth’s eyes almost bug
out of his head.

“That was kind of unfortunate for me, because according to demonic law
what you kill is yours. If I hadn’t been so drunk and a little more lucid, I
surely would have just beat him to a pulp. But killing him meant that the
damned castle suddenly belonged to me, including forty-two succubi.”
Nazareth gasps behind us and mutters, “Just die… lucky bastard… I could
spew blood…”

Ignoring him, I continue, “Yeah, you see, having forty-two females of any
species is kind of stressful. The day has only so many minutes, and if you
go without any sleep at all, that’s just a little more than half an hour for
each of them. Succubi are by nature crazed sex-machines and pleasing all
of them was almost impossible.

“Normally, I am the one-partner kind of guy, so taking care of so many

wives was a real eye-opener for me.” I pat my chest where I have my
special amulet resting against my skin.

“The creation of my special Endurance Amulet was an act of pure

desperation. I was actually glad when I bit the dust a few hundred years
later, which was actually a pretty decent age for a demon male in charge of
a whole succubus harem. Normally, the lucky demon men who take a
succubus as a wife last only a few decades before their wifey gets a little
too excited and drains them empty by accident.”

I think apart from taking this castle, I got next to nothing done during that
particular reincarnation.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from remembering all of their names...”
Seria grumbles, displeased with something. I'll probably never understand
that woman.

“It’s only basic courtesy to remember a woman’s name if she is willing to

give you a blowjob,” I point out and wave towards a succubus who is lying
on her back in the middle of the corridor, a blue-skinned demon male on
top of her. One might think that the guy is in charge, but his glazed and
empty eyes tell another story as he works like a robot to satisfy his partner.
She winks back at me and we continue onwards.

Finally, we arrive at Ashley’s tower at the end of the main corridor. A

wide, winding staircase leads up into the central structure of the tower and
as a good guide, I decide to warn my friends of the central pillar which
supports the center of the winding staircase. Sinuous sculptures of naked
succubi are raking themselves all over the pillar’s surface, holding the
skeletons of dead lovers in their arms. “Just don’t look at the sculptures
for too long. Succubi are a type of mental vampire, and everything they
make has an effect on the unwary. Whether unwanted or not, even just
looking at their art can be dangerous.”

Nazareth finally decides that he has seen enough. “You sent my brother
into a dangerous place like this!? What kind of insane moron are you
that...”

Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t heed my warning as he begins his tirade.

His eyes wander astray and he suddenly stops following us as his words
fade out unintelligibly with his eyes glued to the sculpture of a girl who
seemingly stretches out her hand to the unwary passer-by. The life-sized
statue seemingly kisses anyone who might walk by and it draws Nazareth
in like a magnet.

Grumbling in annoyance at being ignored, I stop and watch the stupid,

little gnome. I watch and wait for a bad awakening for him upon touching
the sculpture, refusing to help after having gone out of my way to issue a
warning. Normally, even if Nazarath is just a minor deity, he should have
enough life experience to take care of his own safety.

Seria also stops and turns around when she notices my watchful eyes. She
catches Nazareth just in time before he manages to plant his lips on the
sculpture like some inexperienced teenager. To wake him up, she cuffs him
on the head with all the necessary force.

“Tch!” I hiss involuntarily, disappointed at having been denied a funny

spectacle.

“Ow!”

“Come on!” Seria turns back to face me while holding Nazareth at the
back of his neck. “What was that? Would you really have just watched him
getting hurt?”

I purse my lips. “He wouldn’t have been hurt… not much at least.”
“Wha… what would have happened?” Nazareth asks, only now slowly
realizing what he was about to do.

“Ahem, you would have been stuck?” I glance at the sculpture out of the
corner of my eye, a technique I mastered over decades of walking up and
down these stairs. If you don’t look at the art directly the brainwashing
effect can’t enter the mind. “You would have been stuck.”

“Stuck!?”

“Yeah, like… you know… if you put your lips to something really cold.
The spell on the sculpture would have invaded your internal magic and
used it to keep you in place. Nevaeh, that’s the creator of this sculpture,
would have sensed that someone stepped into her trap and paid you a
visit.” I grin. “And then you would have become a very lucky gnome.”

Nazareth’s accusing look turns to Seria, and the goddess narrows her eyes
at me. “Why do you know what would have happened and who the statue
belongs to?”

Clearing my throat, I choose not to answer that question. Do I really have

to share the story of how I had to learn the hard way to keep my lecherous
eyes in check? How I tried for three weeks to leave or enter Ashley’s
quarters in a dignified manner without crawling in or out the windows of
the tower? Without being plucked off the pillar like a ripe fruit by a madly
giggling succubus?

“He should just be glad that he didn’t fall for one of the other sculptures
along the pillar. That one is relatively benign,” I point out.

Seria looks at Nazareth, and the gnome promptly falls for my trap by
inspecting the pillar again. His eyes wander to a sculpture of a girl whose
butt is stretched out invitingly towards the staircase, including a hole that
seems just the right size.

Chuckling evilly, I watch as the gnome’s pupils dilate again, but Seria
interrupts the fun by hitting Nazareth even harder, almost braining him.
“Just get us out of here!” She gestures with her hand, pulling Nazareth
with her like a sack of potatoes.

Turning, I take the last few steps to the third level. For some reason, I get
a little emotional over Nazareth’s fear for his brother and decide to relieve
him of his concerns. “Don’t worry about your brother. Succubi can drain
power when they have sex, but Marigold is a strong god. He could
probably go back and forth through all the castle’s inhabitants without
losing so much as ten percent of his mana pool. And as a god, he has
access to practically infinite power. The girls will exhaust him, but they
won’t be able to drain him to the point of killing him even if he blacks out.
If they aren’t intentionally trying to do so, and no succubus truly tries to
kill a partner if they aren’t threatened.”

It just happens by accident with the weaklings. An evolutionary way of

ensuring the survival of the fittest in demon society.

We step onto the third level, Ashley’s personal space. The whole floor is a
single, large room with various devices used to please customers.

And just as I told them, Marigold seems to be fine. “There he is, right on
the central stage. I told you that there is no reason to worry.” Although, I
suppose that Marigold didn’t want us to find him in this particular
situation.

The half-orc is kneeling on the ground with his hands stretched out to
either side and fixated to two poles. He has two violet succubi to both
sides of him, showering him with kisses while they rub their bodies
against him. A third girl is kneeling doggy-style in front of him, squealing
happily as she pushes her bottom back and forth against his hips, impaling
herself with just as much enthusiasm as any succubus shows who happens
to come across an endless mana-bottle.

The three girls look very similar, so I recognize them as the triplets,
Claire, Jada and Danielle.

Marigold himself is gagged with a toy, a plastic ball, and there are black
silken blindfolds covering his eyes.
Behind him is Ashley with a whip in her hand and dressed in a tight-fitting
leather outfit, going full dominatrix style on her customer. The red-
skinned succubus matriarch of the castle doesn’t look a single day older
than her daughters, who seemingly range all around their twenties. Not
that this would mean much. Succubi are shape-shifters, so they can look
how they want. And I can certify that they are far from being innocent
schoolgirls, should they choose to take such a shape.

Her long, auburn hair waves wildly as she takes a swing at Marigold’s ass
with her whip, causing him to lunge forward involuntarily just as Claire
bounces back with her hips. Together, the four succubi are executing a
perfect team-performance to get as much as they can out of their happy
victim.

Then Ashley notices us and drops her whip. “Ascathon!” She takes two
steps, kicking off two ridiculously high heels. Squealing like a child who
had her favourite toy returned, she covers the twenty metres between us
and leaps at my chest, forcing me to hug her by supporting her ass for her
not to fall off.

With her legs wrapped around my hips, she rubs her face against my chest.
“My favourite boy-toy is paying me a visit! Why didn’t you announce
yourself? I would have prepared a ‘verrry’ special welcome with all the
girls instead of servicing your friend all day long.”

“Ahem, it’s nice to see you too, Ashley. Sorry, but this visit was kind of
unplanned, so don’t fret over it.” I gesture at my two charges. “It’s just
that Marigold’s friends were worried. He apparently failed to inform them
of his misadventure and with everything that’s going on in our world, they
wouldn’t leave me in peace until I brought them here.”

“Ashley?” Marigold asks and stops the movements of his hips, still
blindfolded. One of the succubus sisters took out his gag. “Do we have
more friends joining the fun?”

Claire growls, not appreciating Marigold’s lacking enthusiasm and one of

he sisters pushes him from behind, urging him to go on.
“Just a few visitors. No reason to stop,” Ashley calls back.

Waving his fists in a futile gesture, Nazareth chooses that moment to

explode. “No reason!? I’ll give you no reason! Traitor!” His face turning
red with anger, the gnome stomps forward. “Weren’t you the one who had
an elemental crisis and suggested for us to try something different? But
while I went ahead and reincarnated, you got cold feet you green shitfuck!

“And to add insult to injury, you run off to this paradise without telling me
a single word! Do you know how much action I got since I switched
races!? None! Thanks to you! And then you go to this place without telling
me a single word! What did I ever do to you for hating me that much?”

Marigold’s expression turns horrified. “Bro!?”

Sensing the opportune moment for maximum revelation, the succubus on

his left, Jada, decides to pull down his blindfold. Marigold looks at his
brother, then notices that Seria is also watching him with raised eyebrows,
and finally his accusing eyes centre on me.

It’s as if he is saying, ‘All of this was a trap, wasn’t it?’

“I- ah- I- can explain. I was just testing!” He tries to pull out of Claire, but
somehow he seems stuck. “C- Claire? Could you let me go, please?”
Trying again, it becomes clear that the succubus has him trapped.

“Nope,” the succubus replies instantly without an ounce of guilt. “You are
all mine.”

“Aw, don’t fight.” Jada gets up from her place next to Marigold. “Brothers
shouldn’t fight,” she blubbers in her bouncy, happy way, making it clear
that she is simply the type of person who can't stand discontent.

Almost dancing, she glides over to Nazareth who steps back, but Jada
scoops him up like a child, burying his face in her ample cleavage. “This
is a place of happy feelings, so don’t spoil the mood.” One of her hands
wanders a little lower than is decent, and she starts smiling. “I think I’ll
keep the little man.”
Seria facepalms, clearly not amused at the comical development for the
two brothers.

I have to smirk. It’s not every day that you get to watch a half-orc who is
trying in vain to pull out of his succubus-lover, causing her to squeal in
enjoyment and clearly not willing to let go. While at the same time his
gnome brother is almost smothered to death by the overexcited and
admittedly a little dim-witted, if good-natured, sister of said succubus.

Feeling a little left out, Danielle somehow managed to sneak up on Seria

without anyone noticing that she even moved. Touching the goddess’s butt
and squeezing, Danielle smiles victoriously as Seria looks at Danielle
from between her fingers.

“I am sorry, but I am not into other women,” Seria steps back from the
outrageously gorgeous woman. “And I am currently not in the mood.”

“Are you sure?” Danielle asks, pointing at Seria’s outrageous white dress
made out of silk which barely hides anything. “It screams that you want
attention.”

The succubus brings forth her tail and grabs it with both hands, shaping it
into dildo-like appendage. “If it’s about the equipment, I can take care of
that. Ah, or is it the appearance?” With a flash, Danielle turns into a blue-
eyed, blonde hunk of a man, running a hand through long, wavy hair.

That’s when Seria purses her lips, seemingly considering the offer.

Ashley pokes my cheek with a delicate finger. “Are you really running off
again so soon? We didn’t get to talk properly for what feels like a decade. I
don’t even know what you are currently up to.”

Before I can explain that I don’t really have the time to stay, she teleports
us away and I find myself landing in a soft bed, Ashley landing on top of
me with a sneaky expression on her face. “Do you remember this
bedroom?”
Looking around, I take in the white canopy bed and the frilly curtains in
front of the window. While it's all silk and extravagant, it's still boringly
plain for the plains of pleasure and lust. “Ah, all too well,” I answer with
mixed feelings, feeling really stupid for intending to refuse the beautiful
succubus who is straddling me and trying to loosen my belt. “It’s just that
I am currently very busy playing the evil deity in a world of mortals who
ah-”

Ashley takes me into her mouth, expertly shutting me up by bobbing her

head and snaking a long tongue around it.

“May- maybe I can stay just one day.” Or two? There is no way of denying
that Ashley is one of the best relaxation therapists I know of. “It’s just that
there is a lot of work to do, building a new religion, killing off those who
defy me...”

Satisfied with my state of readiness and a little impatient herself, the

succubus matriarch releases me and works her way with kisses further up
my body until she is able to capture me inside her, somehow having gotten
rid of her own leather pants. Slowly, she settles down all the way until she
hits her sweet spot and gasps in pleasure.

“Mmm... you are mean. I can smell Felicia on you and you want to run off
without paying me any attention.” Looking down on me, she slowly starts
gyrating her hips with a calculating smile. “An evil god? That job
description sounds almost like the one of a demon lord. Say, would you
happen to be in need of a few priestesses?”

Lifting her hips almost all the way, she slams back home, forcing me to
moan. “That actually sounds like a good idea, but I would never involve
you in something so dangerous...”

“Do you know how boring it is in my castle?” she asks. “A little risk and
adventure would actually go a long way to revitalise my sense of living.
You know well enough that the greatest threat for a succubus is boredom.”

Holding her hips to guide her movements, I consider the offer.

Sensing my indecision, she pushes her breasts into my face. “Ah, and there
would, of course, be added benefits!”

I try my best to think while I let her do all the work. “Maybe it’s because
the blood is currently draining from my brain, but you could be right. A
few succubi would be a nice addition to my plans.”
 Chapter 12

The World
Karin
“She is such a cute child. No wonder that you adopted her, Ascathon,” the
succubus lady gushes while she pulls at my cheeks, coming entirely too
close to my face with her own. “Those little horns of hers are just too cute
and the mismatched eyes give her a certain charm. I can also tell that she
will grow up to become a true beauty.”

Ascathon huffs, “I hope so. That mana core which I stuffed into her wasn’t
easy to get. There are just a handful of dragon-elders with godhood status
in the multiverse.”

In an attempt to judge her character, I take in the demon who Ascathon

just introduced as Ashley, a dear friend of his. I have never met a demon,
but all the stories I heard about them tell bad tales. So it's quite surprising
that Ashley and her daughters seem like genuinely nice people.

Her auburn hair is long and there is a crest of obsidian-black horns

emerging from her temples, crowning her head like a tiara. The plain,
black dress she is wearing would actually be decent for any occasion, if it
wasn’t for the extremely low neckline. If it can even be called a neckline.
The front of the dress is cut so deep that it goes down to the point of
revealing Ashley's navel, yet it somehow stays snug to her body. Not
entirely sold on the design, I inspect the woman’s bust, expecting her
cleavage to free itself and spill out at any moment.
After a month of mysterious absence, our benefactor reappeared through a
red rift in space and instructed Willow and me to greet the new helpers.
Now there are demons spilling out of it, carrying crates and supplies.

Mostly naked, very sexy demons and according to Ascathon all of them
are demi-gods. A being that isn’t quite a god because it lacks the ability to
use the pathways, but who is strong enough to challenge a lesser deity.

My eyes involuntarily wander between the strange succubus lady and the
large, red portal that opened out of nowhere inside our hidden base.

“Don’t spoil her too much, Ashley. She still has a lot to learn before she is
ready to help me. She is also a strong candidate for true godhood status,
and you don’t achieve that by being coddled,” Ascathon replies from next
to the barely dressed woman.

“I would never do such a thing. Did you forget that I raised all forty-one of
my children to the status of demi-gods? It took a few thousand years, but I
am confident in my skills at parenting.”

“I don’t want to know which dark rituals you used to achieve that feat,”
Ascathon mumbles.

Ignoring him, Ashley returns her attention to me. “Say, child, would you
like to learn a few things from me? I might be able to teach you how to
become a first-class succubus.”

Willow steps in, resting her hand protectively on my shoulder. “I think we

have her education covered. And she had certain experiences that didn’t
leave her with the best of impressions of men.”

Ashley waves a hand dismissively. “Even more reason to learn a few

things about self-defence. I like the child. She looks more like a demon
than an actual human and if Ascathon didn’t misinform me, then
techniques that would, as an example, allow her to change her appearance,
might be very useful.”
I look down at my hands and touch the horny ridge on my left temple.
Turning, I look up at Willow. “You know, a glamour to change my
appearance actually sounds pretty useful if Ascathon wants me to go out
into the world once I am strong enough.” It’s probably a mistake to put too
much trust in a god of chaos, or any of his allies, but I am already firmly
committed to this path.

“Thanks for thinking about my feelings, Willow. I don’t exactly want to go

all the way and become a succubus. But I think that I don’t have the luxury
to refuse if someone is willing to teach me something as useful as
shapeshifting,” I voice my thoughts.

Willow smiles and rubs my back, comforting me. “If you are alright with
it.”

Ashley raises her hand to cover her mouth, chuckling. “Oh, child. You are
a delight. Succubus shape-shifting spells are way more potent than a mere
Glamour. Those paltry illusions are kid’s games for elves and lesser fae.
What we do is real.”

Ascathon claps his hands together to gain our attention. “Yes, yes. Now
that introductions are made, and we know that we are all friends, I would
like to know what I missed out on while I spent two days in another
dimension. These time dilations between different realities are annoying,
so I hope that Myrm didn’t topple Luxley’s kingdom while I was gone.

“I also expect that the stupid world enchantment will soon start teleporting
me around randomly to make up for lost time. I was wondering why it’s
possible to run off to a different time-continuum without being teleported
every five minutes. There must be some bug in the system that only cares
about actually perceived time. In any case, it means that I don’t have time
to waste.”

“Nothing too bad,” Willow informs him with a slight bow. “Things tend to
be really peaceful while you aren’t around.”

Ashley chuckles at that.

“Your Order of Chaos made contact with Luxley, and together they are
reforming his kingdom. With the servants, you left him. I am afraid that
he didn’t quite pick up everything you taught him about necromancy, so
you will have to visit a few more times to make the knowledge stick.”
Willow purses her lips, considering how to continue.

“The neighbouring political powers are eyeing his actions with great
interest, but it’s too early to say if their reaction will be a declaration of
war. Even with your long absence, you shouldn’t forget that the mortals of
this world don’t have access to ways of sharing information quickly.
Messages travel slowly, even with airships it takes days or even weeks to
exchange notes over long distances.”

Ascathon nods. “Something we have to rectify as soon as possible. If I am

forced to endure the squabbles of mortals again and again, then I may as
well spend my time educating them. Let them despair with knowledge
that’s beyond their ability to wield.”

Ashley purrs and looks worshipfully at Ascathon. “Oh, lord. That’s so evil
that I think I am actually getting wet. To condemn their feeble minds by
forcing knowledge upon them which they are unable to wield. Let them
glimpse truths that will shatter their will to exist. That’s brilliant!”

He nods and strikes a pose. “We will force this world to-”

A flash of light and he is gone. Just like that.

After a moment of silence, Ashley blinks, searching the nearby

surroundings for our lord and master. “Where did he go?”

I don’t bother to comment on the scene, not in the least surprised by his
sudden disappearance. It isn’t as if I didn’t experience his unplanned
departures often enough.

Willow sighs wistfully. “I suppose he told you about this stupid world
enchantment. It abducts him at the most inconvenient of times.”
“Really?” Ashley studies the spot where Ascathon stood just moments
ago. Then she turns to Willow, forming a ring with her index finger and
her thumb, poking the other index finger through it in a gesture so ancient
that even a caveman would have understood it. “What about when he is
busy?”

“Even then.” Willow scratches the back of her neck. “You can’t believe
how dissatisfying it is when that happens right before you… you know…”

The elemental looks at me and then at the succubus. The two of them share
a silent moment of self-pity, holding eye-contact to convey that this is a
matter best kept between adults.

“You know,” I grumble, more than a little annoyed at my exclusion. “You

don’t have to try talking in riddles. I am perfectly capable of
understanding the hints.” I may have had bad experiences in this field, but
like Ascathon mentioned, I am tough. The last thing I would do is to
withdraw into a shell of denial and self-pity. Those who wrong me will
burn, it’s as easy as that.

Ashley actually looks ashamed. “I am sorry. I am not aware of this world’s

customs. There are many places in the multiverse where you would be
considered too young to be included in such matters. But I appreciate that
you know how it works. That makes your training so much easier.”

I am beginning to think that getting training lessons from a succubus is a

really bad idea. “I won’t have to sleep with men for you to teach me
things?”

Ashley tilts her head. “Not necessarily… do you prefer girls?”

Even worse! “Ahem, if possible, can we do without the sex part?”

The succubus wriggles as if she is mortified. “No! Impossible! For a cute

girl like you to abandon the best part of a relationship! Sacrilege! But
don’t worry, I’ll convert you to the delight pleasures of the body. You will
learn to appreciate yourself and that body of yours!”
“Ahem!” Willow clears her throat and puts a hand on top of my head. “She
is just fourteen. Maybe you should wait with the indecent stuff until she
can be counted as an adult.”

Ashley furrows her forehead. “When is a girl counted as an adult in this

world?”

Well, depending on status and education, the peasant folk marry off their
children at the age of twelve, fifteen at most. But sensing the chance to
save myself awkward instructions from the succubus, I decide to go with
the age the neural learning machine drilled into me as basic knowledge.
And counting on Ashley’s ignorance of this world’s culture, I can probably
add a few years to make sure she is done teaching me before she tries the
lewd stuff.

“Twenty,” I answer confidently.

“Hum,” The succubus lady nods appreciatively. “Then we will start with
the basics and wait with the more energy-intensive teachings until then.”
She turns away, clapping her hands to hurry on the other succubi. “Get
going, girls. You know how much energy it takes to keep these portals
open.” Walking away, she keeps encouraging the other demons.

Once she is far enough away, I turn to face Willow. “Why do I feel like I
just made a huge mistake? More importantly, why did she just take me at
face-value? I expected her to verify the age with you!”

Willow closes her eyes and rubs the bridge of her nose. “I up until today
only knew Ashley from hearsay. But from the few times when Ascathon
mentioned her, I know that she is several thousand years old. That’s old,
even for a succubus matriarch. To her, you are nothing more than a freshly
born neophyte. You could have probably told her that you have to wait
until you are two hundred, and she wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.”

Then she sucks in her lips, wetting them while she considers if she should
go all the way and inform me of the full extent of my mistake. “And
demonic magic is complicated. Hard to learn and very power intensive.
Even if Ashley wants to teach you just the basic transformations, it will
possibly take years, more likely decades until you are ready.”

I feel my face turning expressionless as I realize how badly I sold myself

beneath market value. How could I have known that Ashley just offered to
invest years of her time in me!? I would have expected a few weeks for
learning the spells. A few months at most! “So I am fucked? Can I still
refuse?”

“Quite literally and no. I wouldn't dare to refuse tutelage from someone
like her. I can teach you, but I'm no magical genius like Ascathon, or a
demon with millennia of experience,” Willow confirms and pats me on my
back. “But hey, she is right at one thing.”

I look up to the elemental.

“It would be a real waste for you to not explore your sexuality. I can
understand that you want to take a break after an experience like yours, but
otherwise you would be really missing out on something.”

The World
Ascathon
“You really came!”

Drawing in a deep breath, I let it out slowly and lower my hand, feeling
distraught at having my great scene ruined. “This is exactly what I feared
would happen. Well, it could be worse. At least it isn’t a battlefield.”
Surveying my surroundings, I take in the small laboratory which could
equally belong to an alchemist and a man who researches the arcane arts.

I recognize some of the machines for what they are, but others remain a
mystery without instructions or a look at their innards. What immediately
strikes me as strange is the fact that all of them seem to be top-notch for
this world’s knowledge about technology and magic. This must be some
country’s sponsored laboratory, since I can’t imagine that a private
researcher would ever have access to this stuff.

Finally, I return my attention to the scrawny man, a beastkin who has seen
better days. His brown fur is unkempt and only a step away from the point
where I would call him filthy. He clearly hasn’t taken care of himself as he
looks at me with worship in his eyes.

“What do you want? Do you not realize who I am? You are in deep shit for
summoning me, old man.”

The man who looks to be in his forties claps his hands together, interlacing
his fingers. “I am researcher Zono, and I know very well who you are and
what risk I am taking by calling upon you. But I have made a great
discovery which will probably reshape how this world thinks about magic.
Well, not so much a discovery, as a realization. And I simply have to know
if I am on the right track or if I am wasting my time! All my colleagues
call me an idiot for even suggesting such a thing.”

I involuntarily furrow my forehead. “No aspiration for power? No hatred

for an enemy? No intention to strike down your foes? Just the simple wish
to know and understand?” That’s new, but I guess that I’ll find out about
his motives soon enough.

“Exactly! I just have to know, and you are the only god that represents
knowledge in the magic arts!” He squirms a little, apparently getting
second thoughts if it was really such a good idea to call upon me.

“Go on,” I urge him on when it becomes clear that he is waiting for my
approval.

He turns, quickly hurrying over to a machine. It’s a large box with a metal
rod extending from its top and entering a sphere made out of glass. The
man flips a switch and the device comes to life, emitting sparks of mana
into the sphere, saturating the gas within and animating it to glow with a
faint blue light.
“I am researching the effects of different spells on the mind, hoping to
create an entirely new spell system from the one we have. One that allows
a deeper understanding on what ‘casting magic’ actually is.” He looks at
me and turns a dial that changes the type of the magic which is induced
into the system.

“In class, there are always students who shine with certain spells, while
others struggle to cast even a single Light-Orb. By studying the apparent
affinities of my students, I realized that I can categorize magic by creating
the spell matrix inside a certain atmosphere. A healing spell, for example,
would always cause the sphere to glow white, while a warmth enchantment
turns it red. So am I actually looking at different kinds of mana? My
question would only be, am I on the right track?”

His question is just too general! “You do realize that you just asked me to
explain the world to you?” I grumble, displeased at the nature of his
request. There doesn’t seem to be any maliciousness involved, and I see no
immediate way of turning the situation to a bad outcome for him.

“So I am on the right track?” he asks.

I consider my answer. The guy stumbled onto the very same system the
gods use to categorize their affinities. It’s a simplified way to explain our
abilities, though those who are able to think a few steps further would be
able to glean great insight into the nature of magic from this simple
starting point. Giving him this information wouldn’t benefit me in any
way or discourage him from summoning me again. On the other hand,
maybe showing him the futility of his research goal would discourage him.
Once he realizes that he can invest his entire life in this endeavour without
even scratching the surface…

In any case, it’s not like the stupid world enchantment gives me any
choice. Better to waste my time with him in this not so unpleasant
environment. “You are wrong. Mana is just a form of energy, and energy is
just that, no matter its form. Casting a spell is the ability to shape those
energies towards a desired outcome.
“You incidentally created a device that helps you to show the wavelength
of light that’s emitted by various magics. Normally, only spells with a
great amount of power would make this so obvious.” I touch the device,
making sure that I won’t destroy anything by pulling out the metal rod.

Then I do so, holding it like a wand. “How a person shapes a spell is

influenced by their state of mind. The more powerful your affinity, the
easier it is for you to shape spells that naturally follow a path that feels
natural to you. The more your mind synchronizes with the spells, the
easier casting will become.”

Slowly, I channel different spell formations through the rod into the
sphere, causing it to light up in different colours. “Most refer to these
affinities as the colour-wheel of magic. Or a five-star pentagram. But all
this colour wheel really does is to describe the human mind. There is no
actual 'blue mana'.”

So I guide him through the basics of the colour wheel.

“White is associated to Energy, Order, and Life. Just as you realized

yourself, these grand aspects can be watered down to countless sub-
categories like healing, resistance, protection, and strategy. Many
magicians find themselves having an easier time casting spells from their
preferred Aspect or neighbouring ones.

“Blue magic features Intelligence, Technology and Illusion. It covers

things like sorceries that concern the mind and manipulation of power, or
enchanting artefacts. You may find that people who favour blue magics are
very logical and maybe emotionally cold.

“Black magic revolves around Death, Decay, and Darkness. The

necromantic arts are at home in this aspect, but so are spells that create
magical plagues. One who wishes to resurrect the dead won’t get around
using this aspect.

“Red magic is Chaos, Impulse, and Fury. The spells in this field are
usually of the fiery and fast kind, aimed at causing damage and
destruction.
“Green magic is Nature and Strength. It focuses on empowering people
and, as an example, summoning strong elementals. Growth and
regeneration naturally involve nature. As does internal magic which
strengthens the body.”

I hand the rod back to the man. “Is that the answer you were looking for?”

“Ye-, yes. Strangely enough, it almost sounds like the various Aspects the
gods represent,” he replies.

“It does because we gods were chosen according to the colour wheel. I can
cast spells of all aspects, but I heavily favour Black, Blue, and Red, as they
are represented in this system. White and Green magics don’t come as
easily to me. On the same account, there are very few people who are
versed in just one of the five fields. You will also only rarely find someone
who has his main-affinities in opposing colours. Like Black and White, or
Red and Blue.”

Feeling like I’ve done enough for this Archimedes of magic, I raise an
eyebrow. “I’ll be going then.”

“Th- thanks for not killing me! Wow, I have to find a few students who
will continue my work in the future. It feels like there is so much more to
uncover about the aspects!” Turning away, the man walks out of the lab,
mumbling to himself.

Really!? He realizes that he won’t ever finish his work, and all that comes
to his mind is to find someone who will continue after he is gone!? “I am
really not a people-person. It feels like I am getting old. To misjudge
someone like that…” Shaking my head, I take a pathway to visit Luxley.
 Chapter 13

The Crystal City

Seria
I watch Myrm as she notes down her plans for the world’s future. After
seeing Ascathon’s progress with converting his first country to his faith,
she decided in her usual competitive manner that it would be bad to lack
behind. As a direct result, she is now trying her hardest to get herself
established in the world by indoctrinating the church of light and any
countries which have a strong connection to that particular religious
group.

It’s questionable whether she realizes where her actions are leading the
world as a whole. I for myself can already predict that this course won’t
lead us into a bright and happy future. As a result, I will probably have to
change my plans and be flexible.

After a while of staring at her, I allow my eyes to wander through Myrm’s

office. It’s empty, except for a few folders on her desk and a large plant in
the left corner of the room which Myrm used as a hatstand to store her
new, shiny helmet.

I was a little surprised when I found out that Myrm’s office is just a storey
beneath mine and uncomfortably close to Ascathon’s. After their initial
meeting, I really do hope that they don’t run across each other on the
corridor. But that’s not what surprised me the most. It’s the fact that
Tjenemit considers Myrm – a newcomer – worthy enough to give her an
office in the Crystal City’s administration complex. Which is a grouping
of large buildings with several floors, housing everything the Council
needs to keep the rest of the multiverse in check.

What did Myrm do to warrant such a special treatment? Normally, it takes

centuries for even talented gods to be acknowledged. She ascended just a
few decades ago and only came to the Council’s attention within the last
year. Something must have happened which I wasn't told about. I would
have preferred it if she stayed completely beneath their radar, but what’s
done is done. Having her work for the Council is better than to have her
hunted down and taken care of.

At last, Myrm puts down her pen and focuses her attention on me. “Did
you only pay me a visit in order to watch me work?”

“Not exactly,” I reply nonchalantly and invite myself to sit down in the
visitor’s chair, facing her. Smiling, I swing one bare leg over the other
while tugging and twirling a lock of my blonde hair, careful to correct the
hem of my blue dress. I just acquired it, and it would be a shame if it were
to get any wrinkles so soon.

Most of this posturing is aimed at teasing Myrm, who seems to have

abandoned all femininity in this particular reincarnation. Most of that is
my own fault for messing with her mind. Dad always said that I should
work on my soul magic, or I would someday mess something up that I
wasn’t able to fix. That’s what I get for not listening to him.

I just hope that I'll get another chance.

Done with setting myself up, I explain the reason for my presence, “I
actually want to consult you regarding two projects I am working on. Up
until now, I spent a great deal of my time on gathering resources for my
plan. It feels like I am ready to leave the planning phase in another few
centuries, hopefully going for actual execution.”

“So long?” Myrm furrows her forehead. “I knew that you are one of the
oldest gods, but to learn that you are also patient enough to plan something
that takes centuries is somewhat frightening. It sounds like you are
planning something huge. Are you sure that I can be of any help?”
Actually, my plans span over millennia, but that’s not important for this
discussion. The less she knows, the less risk I take. One wrong word and
she might remember something I don’t want her to. I wave her off. “Oh,
please. I just want a few directions. Give me your best advice and I will be
happy, especially since I have next to no expertise in the field. You see, I
want to create my own world-”

“Create your own world!?” Myrm exclaims with more than a little shock
in her voice.

“Yes, if I could please describe the problem to you without being

interrupted?” I try to steer us back on course. “Many gods create their own
worlds. I’ve inquired about various methods of going about such a task,
but none of them strike me as easy to accomplish for someone with my set
of skills. I am new to this and I don’t want to involve other parties.”

“So am I,” Myrm replies. “But if you really don’t want to involve others,
then it will be hard. Very hard in fact. Even for someone who can move
planets with a thought. What do you plan to do about the normal
reincarnation cycle? Even if you create a planet for yourself, with your
own population of mortals, it would take just a few generations until more
immortals or even gods are reincarnated on this world.”

Who says that the planet’s population will consist of mortals? Mortals
won’t help me to reshape the multiverse. “Yes. I know that it will be hard.
Don’t worry about the reincarnation problem. I think that I have a solution
for that. It’s not perfect, but satisfying in my eyes. There still will be quite
a few obstacles in my path, but I heard that you have quite some
experience with biology and medicine.”

She narrows her eyes. “You did?”

Oops. Have I said too much? “Yeah, I think you mentioned it once?
Anyway, I don’t want to do everything from the ground up, so I thought
about taking some dead rock, putting it into the right distance to some sun,
and throwing random organisms onto the new world. Would that work?
Someone mentioned that I would need a lot of luck to succeed that way,
but I don’t care if I fail the first few times.”
Myrm purses her lips. “Probably not. At least not if you are unwilling to
wait for several million years for the introduced microorganisms to evolve
into higher life-forms. You would have to ensure that the organisms you
let free are sturdy enough to survive the environment. Just dumping
random stuff onto a dead world will result in nothing more than a giant
mess of rotting bio-matter.”

“Ah, so how should I do it then?” I ask.

She leans back in her chair, considering the issue. “The least you would
have to do would be to pick out suitable lifeforms for your world’s
ecosystem, make sure that there is enough water and gases in the
environment to ensure a working biosphere. If you would get yourself a
gene-splicer, that would make things much easier. If there is something
you want to have on your world, you just have to strengthen the specimen
with something that has no issues surviving in a hostile environment.”

She launches into a long and detailed explanation of how she would try it
without having detailed knowledge on biology. Times passes, and before I
know it I am being fed several possible scenarios with an at least decent
chance of success.

Hmm. The one I like the most is making use of a virus. So I would
probably have to splice most of what I want to have on my world with
demon-genes? They are the sturdiest creatures I know of. If there would be
a ranking ladder for survivalists, demons would even beat cockroaches.
Adding other races like beastkin might also give them the necessary boost
for survival in a hostile environment.

Come to think of it, wouldn’t it be much easier to pay some

technologically advanced culture to do the work for me? I could have them
devise a short-lived virus that does the work for me, so that I can pick the
specimen I want without worrying too much.

I said that I don’t want any other parties involved, but that only meant that
I don’t want to reveal the location of the planet. Who would ever find out
if I went to a technologically advanced part of the multiverse and paid the
mortals there to engineer a suitable virus? The mortal world changes from
moment to moment from a god’s point of view. Our timescale is simply
too different from theirs. I can store the virus until my plans come to
fruition. By the time I actually go to the execution phase, the mortals who
created the virus will be long gone and any proof will have vanished in the
currents of time.

No indication that I am up to something, no questions.

I take a deep breath to calm myself for the next questions. “That sounds
like good advice. Now… regarding some relationship issues I have.”
Myrm isn’t allowed to realize that I actually want information on her.

“Relationship issues?” She raises both eyebrows, looking intrigued. “You

are acting really strange today. I am probably the last person you should
consult regarding relationship troubles. I am single, and will probably
always be one.”

Trying to sound embarrassed, I clear my throat. “Just give me a different

perspective. I myself seem to be eternally alone.” I am so desperate, I even
fuck a random succubus to get rid of the itch.

Truly pathetic!

“There are two people with opposing affinities who have a really bad time
with each other, but they already showed me that they work really well
together. I want to help them because they were such a nice couple while it
worked out between them. The problem is that anything I try to do seems
to make it worse. Even with all my years, I am at my wit's end. And
believe me, I tried everything! From dates, to romance, to hunting
expeditions...”

“Opposing affinities? And they work well with each other?” Myrm asks,
sounding not convinced. “Are you sure that they have opposing affinities?
That would be like throwing fire and ice into the same pot. It sounds
unlikely that it will ever work out.”

I shrug. “But I’ve seen them with my own eyes. They are like fire and ice,
that’s true, but they complement each other. It’s just that they currently
seem to be having a domestic quarrel.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. Maybe you just missed something
obvious? I can only say that I haven’t ever seen two people falling in love
without some common interest,” Myrm explains. “Are you sure that they
really have nothing in common?”

Scratching my chin, I consider it. Hopefully, I won’t give too much away
by mentioning this tiny detail. “It could be that they are overlapping a tiny
bit in the blue sector. To a degree, they are both scholars, though they
pursue different fields.”

Ascathon prefers red, black and blue magic, while Myrm sticks to her
proven body strengthening techniques, utilizing green, white and blue
magic.

Her internal mana manipulation makes it really hard for her to cast and
control external magic, but that is a small price to pay for what she can do
with all her power released. She turns into an almost invincible fighter. A
superwoman with the ability to punch and obliterate a mountain with a
single swing of her fist.

Myrm shrugs. “Then there you have it. While they worked in harmony
with each other, they probably shared a goal or had a common enemy.
People with a blue affinity are often very rational and tend to put logic
before their feelings. Just create a situation that allows them no other
logical choice than to join forces. Once they are forced to spend time with
each other, things will naturally run their course if you are right and they
indeed complete each other.” She smiles, happy about her witty advice.

I feel my own expression freeze up. “Are you telling me that putting them
into a nice, romantic environment had just the opposite effect of what I
wanted to achieve? That I should have thrown them into a war-zone, with
an enemy that didn’t care about either of their lives?”

“For sure.” Myrm huffs. “In a peaceful environment, they would have
talked to each other and realized that their opinions and goals are
diametrically opposed, which would have automatically ruled out the other
side as a partner. They would have spoken a few words and deemed the
other side unfit for further consideration. The only way for two such
individuals to work together is to have a goal they can agree on.”

“Botheration!” Could it really be that easy?

The World
Ascathon
“Ah!” I strike Luxley’s hand with my educational pointer, a long piece of
sturdy reed. He flinches and his spell collapses without activating.

“What did I tell you about activating the second layer of the spell matrix
too early?” I ask.

He rubs his hand, where a red mark is forming which soon will definitely
turn into a bruise. “That it’s really, really bad,” he answers like a petulant
child, his eyes wandering through the throne room and to his adviser, an
old man who is apparently supposed to be something like a court-mage.

I follow Luxley’s eyes, glaring at the old man who is currently slacking
around and doing nothing. When he notices my attention, he quickly
returns to his cleaning duties with a mop and a bucket, taking care of
Luxley’s failed attempts at resurrecting a corpse.

Some of the king’s earliest attempts at spell-casting weren’t pretty, but he

is improving. In fact, he may be a natural genius at necromancy. Even if it
didn’t seem like it was intentional, but Luxley bungled his Reanimation
spell and came up with an accidental version of Corpse Explosion.

“Why don’t you teach him?” Luxley points at the old man. “He is my
court-mage. That’s why I hired him.”

Pursing my lips, I study the elder who shrinks in on himself when my

attention lands on him. As I understood it, he got a pretty thorough beating
from Myrm when he tried to stop the god of order from taking down the
castle.

I turn back to Luxley. “Is he supposed to be king? Or you?”

“I am the king!” Luxley sputters. “How can you even question that?”

“Oh, good!” I whack him with my reed. “Because it seemed for a moment
like the king of a growing nation didn’t want to train his magic, and
through it, his mind.” I whack him again. “It sounded like you intended to
rule this country with nothing more than your right of birth and the help of
your loyal subjects.”

“J- just stop it!” The king jumps back, narrowly avoiding a third
whacking.

I wonder whether he is getting too used to me. He certainly never tried to

avoid punishment before. Pointing a finger at him, I zap Luxley with a
little lightning bolt.

“Ow!” He jumps. “Why are you so adamant about me learning magic? I

am a ruler! My job is to rule the kingdom, not casting spells.”

Tapping my pointer against my chin, I consider the question. “It’s because

knowledge is power and power is needed to rule a nation. Magic requires
knowledge to be used properly. If I put you in charge of my followers, I
want you to be a powerful ruler.”

Luxley takes a deep breath.

“Ah!” Waving my stick at him, I stop him from interrupting me. “You,
Luxley. Right now, you are worse than vermin. You sit in your castle and at
the first sign of attack, you have to run away from your own subjects. Up
until now you just wielded power, you didn’t have it. And someone who
just wields power isn’t much more than a brute with too many muscles.

“The ancient Mirai understood that. The necromantic priests invested most
of their time in study and improving themselves. They had others
supervise the nation according to their wishes. And in the rare instances in
which they had to leave their studies, they had the power to lay down the
law. You are really talented, Luxley. I don’t know how it happened, but
somehow your family lost all their heritage and just look where it brought
you before I arrived.”

“I am nothing more than a pawn to you,” he grumbles.

“Yes,” I nod. “A useful pawn who would do very well in staying useful.
So, how about we continue with the lessons?”

I watch Luxley as he tries another reanimation.

Come to think of it, I haven’t taken account of Karin’s growth in a while.

Maybe I should organize a little field trip for her to practice her skills.
Somewhere off-planet where she isn’t at risk of being found by an over-
eager Council member.

I nod when Luxley manages to revive another corpse without creating a

big mess. Surprisingly, he also manages to give it some basic commands.
It gives me hope that he might actually be able to pull off a full
resurrection, soul included, with a reasonable amount of training. It isn’t
like Luxley is stupid. He had more education than any other citizen in his
country. Just not the right kind.

Seeing that he has the spell under control, I instruct him to continue
training with the other bodies and walk over to the so-called adviser.
“You.”

“Yes?” He stops scrubbing the floor.

“You are still in charge of the kingdom’s information network, right?” I

ask.

He nods.

“Tell me what’s going on in the world. Think of it as if I have been absent

for the last month,” I instruct in a brisk voice.
The old man furrows his forehead in confusion but complies. “Your Order
of Chaos is spreading your teachings through the kingdom, though some of
these reformations will take time to accomplish. Many of the surrounding
countries joined us without much of a fuss, as their religious followers
acknowledged our leadership thanks to the Order. And the fact that you
seem to be very persuasive when you appear in front of their royalty in
person.

“There are rumours that an opposition to our coalition is forming in the

northern hemisphere. They apparently worship Myrm, though no reliable
information managed to get past the Great Blight in the centre of the
continent. Apart from a few airships, there is little trade and traffic over
such long distances. All the information we get is second-hand reports.”

“I see.” Maybe I'll be forced to take actions faster than I want to. “Thanks
for the update, please, go on with your cleaning duties.”

“Yes, Sir.”
 Chapter 14

The World
Ascathon
“Satellite network going online,” I mumble as I adjust the brightness of
the holographic globe at the control station. A week’s worth of labour was
enough to set up a network of spy satellites, bought from an advanced part
of the multiverse and advertised as the perfect do-it-yourself product.
Satisfied with the brightness and sharpness of the projection, I give an
appreciative nod.

After all, I want to know what’s going on in the world. So, setting my
laboratory up as a spy-network is the logical thing to do.

Scratching my ass, I watch the slowly spinning globe at the ceiling of my

bat-cave, illuminating the whole space with a faint, blue light.

“Gods, why does he have to do that all the time? It's such a turn-off,”
Willow mumbles behind me.

“I don't know, but I noticed that he never did it while he was his female
version,” Karin replies with all the wisdom and observation powers of a
child.

Turning around, I glare at the both of them. “I can scratch my ass, or my

nut-sack, whenever I want as long as I am a man! It's socially acceptable
for the male gender.”

“Not really...” Willow mumbles silently. “I want to know who taught you
social behaviour.”
“Aah,” I groan. “Just get on with it. Why are you two here? Is there some
new development I have to know about?”

“It's your turn teaching Karin,” Willow explains stoically. “Over the last
two weeks Ashley had her fingers on her, and before that, I spent a month
tutoring the girl.”

“You know very well that I don't have much time. In any case, I would be a
bad tutor because I get teleported around at irregular intervals,” I answer
in an expert attempt to weasel my way out of taking responsibility.

“You can at least do a little tutoring with the time you have,” Willow
replies and turns around, walking away and showing me without a doubt
that it's the end of the discussion.

“I hate it when she does that. A proper minion wouldn't just turn her back
on her lord and master,” I grumble, watching her departure. “I am just too
soft on her.”

“Yeah. You are one of those people with a hard shell and a soft core,”
Karin confirms.

“It's not that. It's just that I can't be mad at her forever,” I muse. “And, you
know, that nice, shapely butt is a real prize to hold onto when she bends
forward. You can feel your fingers sink into the flesh and pum-”

“Ah! Nanana!” Karin covers her ears. “Let's not go there!”

“Fine.” Turning my attention back to the girl, I order her to give me an

overview of what she learned from Ashley and Willow while I continue
my work on another project.

After confirming with Karin, I realize that the girl-child picked up an

impressive set of skills from both her tutors, so I only teach her one
specialised form of magic which should round out her skill-set, Blood
Magic. Once I am sure that she has the basics down, I decide to
concentrate on overall theory.
But a few days later, soon after the start of our regular lessons, she
suddenly seems reluctant to learn the dry theory of how to shape a spell
matrix.

“This is so boring! Just numbers and formulas. Why don’t you teach me
another spell instead?”

“Karin. Do you know how a battle with magic is fought?”

“Yes.” She breathes in to answer.

“Wait!” I raise my hand. “Let me rephrase that. Have you ever watched a
magical duel? If not, then I might take you somewhere where you can
learn when you are ready. I’ve thought about taking you to a real-life
practice environment anyway.”

I chew on my lower lip as I consider the following explanation. “Karin,

when it comes to magic, pure power rarely decides a confrontation. Try to
cast a spell.”

She furrows her forehead and looks around the laboratory. Then she shrugs
as if saying that it would be my fault if something gets damaged. Even as
she raises her hands, shaping the spell matrix for a fireball, I gesture with
my hand, sending out a thin tendril of shaped mana.

The almost invisible line of energy impacts her unfinished spell-formation

like a whip. Naturally, Karin loses control and her relatively simple spell
falls apart before she even manages to summon a sizeable amount of
energy.

She tries again with another spell, and again and again. Each time, I
intercept her flawlessly, not even allowing her to finish building the spell
matrix which is necessary to shape energy into a spell.

Finally, she gives up. “What? Why? What? How!?” She shakes her little
fists futilely, letting out her frustration with a scream. “How are you doing
that?”
“I know what you are trying to cast, so it’s easy to interfere with your
spells. Insert a little more power than necessary, adjust a variable or two,
and the whole spell-matrix collapses.” I take a deep breath. “Magical
combat is all about predictability. I mean, it’s okay to have a solid set of
spells which you can cast in your sleep, but the more a person knows you,
the easier it gets to stop you in your tracks.

“Blindly using spells that others created is never a good thing. We always
start out by teaching new magicians an easy spell which allows them to
push gathered energy away from them. That avoids injuries and mana
burn. It also gives the new student the necessary training to control his or
her magic. But it isn’t the end of all things.”

Turning away from my work, I make eye-contact with Karin. “At the end
of the day, you have to understand why a spell-matrix creates a certain
effect. You have to adjust the spells we teach you to fit your style or come
up with something completely new. Once you reach that level,” I raise a
hand and conjure a fireball above my palm. “You will be able to adjust a
spell on the fly.”

Without re-casting the spell-matrix, I change and reassemble it, turning

the fireball into a little ball of lightning, and then shove it away from me
towards Karin. But instead of lightning, she is hit by a little wave of
telekinetic energy which sends her down to her butt.

“Once you can do that, it’s much harder to counter your spell before you
can cast it. Once your control and understanding are sufficient, I’ll also
teach you a way to hold the components of the spell matrix in position
without actually assembling the spell. With that technique, the time-
window for interference also shortens and you suffer less backlash if you
get interrupted.”

Unsurprisingly, the resilient girl gets to her feet and nods. “I understand.
Learn the basics, or I’ll be just a brute who swings a gun around like a
club, without understanding what he is holding.”

I smile. “That’s a surprisingly fitting analogy.”

Time flies by as I split my attention between the child and the new
machine which I call a mana condenser. It's as much intended to prove my
theory regarding the blue mana crystals, as I am aiming at making full use
of the theory, should it hold up to a real-world test. Merely recreating
mana crystals would be much too boring. Even just enchanting them
would be far from my true goals.

If my theory is correct, then mana crystals are very much like a stable
form of neutronium. They are pure energy, condensed to the point of
taking physical form. Now for the golden question, how does someone
manage to condense energy to such a degree? How is it possible for this
power to reach a stable state in a normal environment?

So many questions which have yet to be answered.

Well, that’s why I need what I call a mana condenser. A device which isn’t
just able to create an incredibly dense form of energy, but also has the
ability to direct this power so that I can shape the mana crystal according
to my wishes. If I am right, then not only will I be able to create items
which are naturally enchanted, but it should be possible to shape
something like a computer core.

This core would be like a seed that’s able to tap into the energies around it
and grow by itself. Maybe it's even possible to tap into the energy which
runs through the pathways.

While having one eye on Karin as she trains a control technique which I
taught her, I pick up one of the quartz crystals – a clear, staff-like cylinder
– which I slowly grew over the course of weeks in a special machine,
making sure that their molecular structure is perfect and that there are no
impurities in the material.

A few atoms of another element or a scratch would be enough to fracture

the laser light which I intend to use in order to transmit energy within the
crystal. As a result, the light wouldn’t be transmitted perfectly, and even a
small imperfection would cause the whole device to have a catastrophic
meltdown.
Slowly, ever so carefully, I lift the oversized excuse for a glass-fibre cable
to insert it into its fixation. Slowly, slowly now. I don’t want to spend
another month with supervising the growth of another perfect crystal.

Flash!

Startled by the light, I flinch and the quartz slips out of my fingers. It
impacts the blue, crystal floor first with one end, ‘Clang!’, then with the
other, ‘Clong!’

Gasping and eyes wide, I bend down and pick up the important part. It
didn’t shatter, but one glimpse is enough to notice the fine fractures that
run through the quartz, turning it utterly worthless for my endeavour.

Screaming in impotent rage, I approach the nearest wall and bang the
quartz-stick against it. “Fucking shit! Three weeks! Three goddamn weeks
of work! Curse the creators of the multiverse and all their descends. May
they live in misery and thralldom for all their existence!” With each blow,
the quartz shatters until I hold only a fist-sized piece. Clenching my teeth,
I throw that also against the wall, shattering it to a thousand smithereens.

“Ahem!”

Ever so slowly, I turn around, for the first time consciously acknowledging
the room I am in. It’s a large and luxurious office. A large window-front
gives a perfect view of the skyline of the Crystal City. And sitting at the
large office desk, carved from the bone of some humongous creature, then
polished to look like marble, is Tjenemit.

The Council member’s eyes are on my feet, where I stand inside a sea of
shards of quartz, messing up his office.

Noticing a trash-bin, I laugh artificially and scoop up the shards as well as

I can with a telekinesis spell. “Hahaha. I am so sorry for my outbreak.
Whew, we are lucky that you have no carpet in your office. That would be
annoying to clean. Hope you understand. I am on an emotional edge since
you involved me in this program. Being teleported to random worshippers
isn’t...”
One moment!

I look up, searching the room for any mortals. When I find none, I look at
Tjenemit.

“No,” The Council-member replies coolly, one eye twitching in

annoyance. “I am not one of your worshippers.” He sighs and gets up. “As
it happens, I need your expertise. The multiverse knows, people like you
should be silenced for good, but as it happens your unique abilities are just
too useful.”

I would also like to silence you. I would silence the whole fucking Council
if it meant I would be left in peace.

“Okay...” I put the trash bin down. Seems like I get to live another day.
“What is it this time?”

Tjenemit gets up and walks around his desk, then pushes some hidden
button on the left wall next to the window front. With that, a previously
perfectly hidden door opens.

Clapping my hands, I giggle like a little child. “Oh, that's just perfect. Do
you have more of this secret-agent stuff? Maybe disguised toys? You guys
are aware that things like a secret door mean nothing to us gods? Why
don't we just use the pathways to go where you want us to?”

Tjenemit leads the way into the small room behind the secret door and I
follow him. The Council member looks at me without saying a word, then
his eyes wander to the door of what turns out to be an elevator. It silently
closes behind us.

“We are going down to the lower levels of the Crystal City. The tunnel
system is protected, so there is no getting in or getting out.”

“You can cut off pathways?” I ask, astounded. I didn't know that is
possible. Even as I talk, I can feel my stomach rise as the elevator
plummets with incredible speed, stopping mere seconds later with a force
which would have brought a mortal to his knees.
He grunts and steps through the opening door. “It doesn't block the
pathways. It only blocks our ability to use them.”

Figuring that I wouldn't get a satisfying explanation anyway, I shut up and

follow Tjenemit through a confusing network of tunnels which are
intersecting each other at regular intervals. Somewhere far away, I can
hear the thrumming of some mysterious machine. Come to think of it, I
never got to see the Crystal City's source of power. Maybe that's it?

From time to time we come across random personnel of this facility.

Subconsciously, I tag them with random services they may or may not
fulfill down here. Maintenance guy, crazy scientist, clean-up crew, bend-
over secretary.

My mind is still floating and I begin to worry about what may be my job
down here. I am far from ready to take on the Council. What if Tjenemit
took me down here to make me vanish like the others? What would happen
to Willow, Karin and possibly Ashley and the others? Would they be
brand-marked as rogue gods if they awakened on their own?

Especially, with Willow, I had given my best to hold her at the brink of
transcendence after Janice transcended to godhood and disappeared shortly
afterwards. I swear that I'll one day find out what's happening to all those
people. I still owe Janice for teaching me about soul-magic.

At last, we arrive at a room which I immediately recognize as a medical

bay when Tjenemit opens the door. There is something universal about
medical installations throughout most of the known multiverse. From the
colour, to the furniture, down to the smell.

A woman is lying in the only bed, propped up with several pillows in a

sitting position, her head is resting loosely against the pillow. Three people
in white, two women, and a man, are tending to their patient with various
machines.

Tjenemit steps aside, allowing me to enter, then closes the door behind
me.
After paying short attention to the set of doctors, I concentrate on the
patient. She looks very different from what I remember. The haughty and
confident expression is gone and a long rope of drool is trickling down the
corner of her mouth. Her empty eyes staring at nothing as she lies within
the leather restraints which are meant to keep her from falling out of her
bed.

Her deep brown hair is hanging loosely, entangled into a wild mane which
shows that her caretakers are not in the least concerned about their
charge's looks.

Whatever happened to her, there isn't much left of Eris, Goddess of Strife
and Discord, Member of the Council of the Gods.

Shoving past one of the doctors, I poke Eris's cheekbone, causing her head
to loll to the side like a doll's. “Wow. Something got her really good! What
did you do to her? Lobotomy? She is a wreck! Is this what they call 'those
who ascend high, fall deep'?”

The medical man who I shoved aside returns the favour in order to get to a
machine on Eris's wrist, checking some result on a little screen.
Meanwhile, one of the female doctors returns the patient's head to a more
comfortable position while giving me the evil eye.

“Eris had an accident while she was working on important Council

business,” Tjenemit explains patiently. “We want you to fix her.”

“Me?” I point a thumb at myself, probably looking as surprised as I truly

am. I am not a doctor!

“Me sorry!” I continue mockingly. “Me great Soul-Mage! Me not bother

with mortal shell.”

Clearing my throat I return to a normal tone when, judging by his

expression, I realize that Tjenemit seems to be developing a temper. “No,
for real. Why would I be able to fix what your doctors can't? And even if
her body is beyond help, just finish her off and wait for her to reincarnate
in a new body.”
The doctor who I shoved earlier clears his throat and runs a hand through
his long blonde hair while showing me a board with an illusory image of
the patient's body, everything showing up green. “We would have done that
if it would have helped. But according to everything we know about her
body, she is completely fine. That body is healthy and the brain should be
perfectly capable of operating within normal expectations. It's safe to
assume that even a reincarnation wouldn't make a difference.”

He looks at Tjenemit. “Whatever the so-called accident did, it has nothing

to do with her physical health. What was affected was her mind, her soul.”

Standing there with crossed arms and drumming his fingers onto his
elbow, Tjenemit takes over. “That's exactly why we are keeping us a pet
Soul Mage.” He gestures at her. “Do your best, Ascathon. And don't even
consider implanting some kind of Geas or Thrall in her mind. Don't sift
through her memories, just repair her. Prove that it's worth keeping you
around.”

The doctor raises his terminal to his chest, smiling smugly. “Don't worry,
Sir. All three of us are well versed in mind-magic. Even if this man is as
good as you think he is, we will be able to notice any mind-altering
effects. Or if he took a too deep look at her memories.”

“Goodies. You must've heard some really bad stuff about me if you think I
would do such a horrid thing to someone who did me no harm,” I reply. I
mean, of course, I definitely would do such a thing if I had the chance to
turn a Council member into a loyal puppet. Who would waste such an
opportunity!?

Sadly enough, it's probably too dangerous to risk such a thing if my work
will most likely get checked by several independent parties. I have no idea
about their skills and knowledge, so I would take a real gamble by playing
with Eris's mind. Discovery would mean that the whole Council would
come down on me like a flock of carrion eaters.

I am relatively sure that I would be able to deal with at least one of them,
but what about the others? Not to mention that they command a sizeable
number of gods and deities who suck up to them at each of their fingers.
I sigh, trying to sound sad. “You don't believe me.”

“No,” one of the female physicians replies, a cute little thing with
chocolate-brown skin and dark hair. “You have enough of a reputation to
give us reason to triple-check anyone you touch.”

“Quit talking, more working.” Tjenemit gestures at his comrade. “Fix her.”

Stepping closer, I place a hand on Eris's forehead and close my eyes to

concentrate on the patient's soul.

There is no resistance whatsoever when I send my energies deep into her

very core. Speaking in understandable terms, what I find is a mostly empty
castle with its gates shattered and wide open. It feels like someone
plundered her treasure chest... or like something took a generous bite out
of her very soul.

I take my time judging the damage in an attempt to find out what caused
it. But there is no indication. This is something I have never seen before.

Slowly, I open my eyes and look at Tjenemit. “What the hell happened to
her? Her mind and soul look like something took a bite out of them. I
know the results of mind to mind combat, but this is worse. It's almost as
if something tried to consume her memories, sucked them directly out of
her very soul.”

Tjenemit's eyes narrow as he considers this. “We don't know what

happened. Like I said, she was working on Council business and when we
found her, she was in this state. There was nobody else in the room with
her. Can you fix her?”

I shrug. “Maybe, but there wouldn't be much meaning to it. I can try to
repair what was broken, reconnect the soul with the body. Though, I can
only guess at how things should be. There is substantial damage to her
soul's metaphysical connection to her physical body. At a first glance, I
would say that all of her soul's recent memories are forever gone. That's
for sure. And with recent, I mean the last few centuries.
“Even if I succeed, she would be a different person from the one you know.
Her old memories will feel like they aren't her own if I do this. It's likely
that she will behave like a child in the beginning,” I finish my explanation.

Tjenemit furrows his forehead and looks down at the floor, deep in
thought. Quite some time passes before he comes to a decision. “Do it
anyway. We will help her to get back to her feet. Her position as a Council
Member was mostly representative anyway. Once she is ready to return to
her role, she can retake her position.”

How generous.

He looks up, glaring at me and the doctors. “What are you waiting for!?”

“Yes, my Lord and Master...” I mumble and turn back to the patient,
wondering what happened to damage her soul to that extent.
 Chapter 15

The Crystal City

Seria
“This is such a stupid idea, Seria. I don't even know where to begin,”
Nazareth complains while wringing his hands. “And you too, Brother. How
could you join her so willingly on such a dangerous endeavour?”

The large half-orc looks down at his brother, seemingly considering the
question in earnest.

“Hmm,” Marigold grumbles in a deep baritone. “I won't argue the point

that we are taking a huge risk, but if Seria says that she needs backup, then
I'll help her. Sneaking into the centre of the Council's power isn't
something that should be done alone. If anything goes wrong, then our
increased numbers make it at least possible to call for help. Or to be a
witness for each other. It’s much harder to make us disappear when others
know of our actions. At least the Council would no longer be able to
pretend that they know nothing about the disappearances. Finally, this isn’t
something that concerns only Seria, but all of us.”

“I think that going with more people only makes it more likely for us to
get caught!” Nazareth replies, unwilling to let the matter rest. Then he
looks up and down the alley as if expecting one of the Council's hunters to
jump around the corner at any moment.

Little does he know that I myself am forced to walk in the Council's

shadow. I am not proud of it, but it gives me the possibility to help those
who deserve it.
After checking out the godforsaken alley myself, I return my attention to
the brothers. “Listen, I will do this alone if you don't want to risk it. I just
asked you two for help because I am relatively sure that you aren't in
cahoots with the Council. It's certainly not as if I can make any promises
regarding your safety. In fact, should we get caught, I think it's very likely
that our friends will count us among the missing people.”

“Do you hear that?” Nazareth looks up to Marigold, then at me. “What
guarantee do we have that you aren't working with the Council to pin
something on us? It's not like you aren't known for dealing with them. In
fact, everyone knows that you are on Tjenemit's payroll.”

Slowly, I raise an eyebrow. “I won't deny that I am working for the

Council. It’s unfortunate that they have their sights on me for various
reasons, but that doesn't mean that I like it. Believe me, if I saw a sensible
way to weasel my way out of my circumstances, I would do it. But the
Council has too many eyes and ears. Their propaganda machine is quite
effective, and most who aren’t directly involved with the Council
members would never suspect a thing. And the ones who are, are too afraid
to talk. I want to know what's going on, just like you two and anyone else.
It's as much about my own safety as yours.”

Tilting my hips slightly, I cross my arms in front of my chest and look

down on the little gnome. “And may I remind you that I helped you to find
your brother? And now that I am asking for help you deny me?”

“Aaah...” Nazareth looks away, clearly embarrassed. “This situation is

different. My brother wasn't in real danger and I just needed you to speak
to Ascathon. It's not like he takes me seriously. And stop doing that!
Seriously, what's with that black catsuit. You look ridiculous!”

“What!?” I look down at myself, uncrossing my arms to inspect the dark

leathers. “This is the closest I could find to burglar equipment. My usual
gowns are quite unfit for this task. I told you two to dress appropiatly.”

As far as appropriate goes. Nazareth chose some kind of grey robe which
looks like a sack on his gnome-body. Marigold is in his usual brown
leather armour. I swear, it's as if some people never change their clothes.
Either that or they have twenty identical sets at home.

Marigold clears his throat. “Please do that again.”

“What?”

He looks at the floor. “Pushing up your chest and then lett... ing... go...
judging by your expression, I can see that you are opposed to the idea. So
I'll just shut my mouth and help you.”

“Perv!” Nazareth shakes his head. “One would think that you had enough
after a week in that succubus brothel.”

“Can we return to the matter at hand, please?” I ask, exasperated. “And

don’t worry, Marigold. I know that I am pretty, so you are allowed to look.
Sadly, you just aren’t my type, no offense.”

If I had known that it would involve this much arguing, then I would have
crawled down into the tunnel system on my own. “I don't even need you
two to fight. I just want someone with me who is able to stand guard,
should we find something that's worth investigating.”

“Count me in,” Marigold announces helpfully, while his brother whines,

“We are all going to die. The Council will do us in. How do you even
intend to enter the restricted area?”

That's right. The restricted area includes pretty much the whole Crystal
City beneath street-level. There is a whole network of underground tunnels
which may have functioned as a resource-allocation system in the past.
Whoever created the Crystal City intended for it to last forever. In fact,
aside from some recent additions to the city's landscape, I am not aware
that any of the original facilities need maintenance at all.

“The Crystal City is old. So old, that I am relatively sure that the Council
didn't build it. It may even pre-date the time of war which was brought to
an end by the Council,” I explain patiently.
“So?” Nazareth asks, his forehead furrowed. “I think pretty much everyone
already came up with that theory on his or her own. There is no way that
the Council wouldn’t widen their influence if they knew how to handle
mana crystals.”

“It also means that there are nooks and crannies all over the city which
even the Council doesn't know about. Abandoned sewers, hidden
passageways, and old maintenance shafts.” I kneel down on the street,
digging my fingers into a crevice between the cobblestones which pave the
street. “Someone must have thought in the past that cobblestones look
nicer than the flat, crystal surfaces which cover most of the city. But in his
eagerness, he also closed up the entrance to an old maintenance shaft
which leads directly into one of the Council's main-facilities.”

Activating the ancient mechanism, I lift the cover. Whoever did the paving
decided to leave the maintenance shaft accessible, while doing his hardest
to hide its existence.

Marigold lets out a sound of surprise. “Gosh! How did you even find
this?”

“I was around for a long time.” I wave my hand, holding the cover open.
“Let's just say that I had incredible luck stumbling upon it.”

And it was luck indeed. One night, I let myself go inside the inn around
the corner. And with 'let go' I mean that I was so drunk that I couldn't walk
anymore, let alone cast a spell to clean my blood from the alcohol. It was
then when I was at my lowest, crawling through this street in an attempt to
get anywhere where I could sleep out my hangover when I literally
stumbled upon this.

I still count myself lucky that I had the wits left to close up the shaft and
tell nobody until I had the chance to explore it.

“Get in before someone sees us.”

Marigold and Nazareth follow my order and once they are inside, I follow
and close the shaft above me. Then we slowly descend down an old ladder
in total darkness. The shaft itself is no more than a meter in width, but it
soon widens when we enter a small room with a crystal core in the ceiling.

“By the gods! What is that?” Nazareth whispers. “I feel the mana radiating
off of it.”

“It's something like a mana core, just that the creators made it out of mana
crystal. That's why the Council doesn't want anyone down here. There are
power-nodes like this one at regular intervals throughout the whole city. I
think they are responsible for the power distribution for the outlets in the
houses above.”

Marigold shakes his head. “I will never understand how the gods of the
past could have built something like this and just vanished.”

I shrug and point at a narrow tunnel to our left. It's large enough to stand,
but forces anyone who enters it to walk sideways. “Who knows? Maybe
the owners were defeated by another party and were dealt with in a
permanent manner. That's what we are here for. For all we know, the
Council is using some ancient mechanism to imprison the people they
dislike, and we can end all of their schemes by destroying their toy.”

“You are grasping at straws,” Nazareth intones helpfully. “And I must say
that right now I am quite happy to be a gnome. These tunnels are just the
right size for me. Are you sure that they are meant to be traversed by
humans?”

“Who knows.” I tap at a pipe or power-line which follows the tunnel at the
ceiling. “I don’t think that someone who has access to Crystal-Tech would
have problems with sending some kind of drones, should something fail.”

“I have only one question,” Marigold says while making himself small by
drawing-in his belly. Out of the three of us he has the most problems with
the tunnel’s size. “Why did you choose this exact moment for this
adventure? From what I understand, you knew about this entrance for a
long time and you never used it.”
That’s actually a hard question. If I had to lay out the exact details, it
would take days to share the entire story. So going with a half-truth might
be the best course. “I was very afraid of getting caught. And I have
absolutely no idea if this facility holds the answers we seek.”

“So what changed?” Nazareth urges on.

“Eris vanished. You might have noticed that she was strangely absent from
any public events in recent time. That’s simply not her style as a goddess
of discord. Someone like her needs to have an active involvement with the
public in order to cause mischief.” Now several dozen metres down the
tunnel, I duck into an intersection and move on. “Finally, there is the point
that I have a reliable source which told me that Eris entered this part of the
underground network. In fact, many Council members do so on a regular
basis. It’s just that according to my source, Eris never emerged.”

“So we are still acting on a hunch,” Marigold mumbles. “Well, I suppose

it’s better than to randomly search the restricted area. That would get us
caught sooner or later for sure.”

“Silent now,” I warn them. “We are approaching the active part of the
facility and from there on out, we have to be watchful for surveillance
systems.”

“I am good with counter-intelligence, so let me cast the spells,” Nazareth

provides helpfully.

It actually still takes us a few more minutes to arrive at the hatch which
allows access to a deeper level. From there onwards, the tunnels widen and
become easier to traverse. We proceed with the greatest care, halting often
to check for any sign that we were found. Surprisingly, Nazareth turns out
to be quite the competent counter-intelligence device. After a round of
highly effective invisibility enchantments, which I couldn’t have done any
better, and privacy spells which are supposed to stop any sound, we
proceed deeper into the facility.

Soon, we encounter our first guard, but thankfully Nazareth’s spells hold
and the guard walks past us none the wiser while we press ourselves to the
wall.

A few steps further, we arrive at an intersection which helpfully provides a

sign and a map with our current location.

Nazareth points to the left. “It says that the offices are that way.”

“Yes,” I reply and point in the other direction. “And it says that the
restricted area is that way.”

“A restricted area within something that’s already a restricted area is never

a good thing,” Marigold observes coldly.

“Yes, but we are on a time limit. Searching an office complex which surely
includes staff isn’t an easy thing to do at the best of times. How long will
we be able to hide behind our magic? A restricted area sounds like it
would be relatively easy to find something that the Council wants to hide.”
Taking the tunnel to the right, I start walking.

It doesn’t take long to reach a security door.

“Somehow I expected that,” Marigold mumbles. “Why should they leave

something that’s important completely unprotected?”

“Well, there is the strange thing that we can’t use the pathways down
here,” Nazareth mentions.

“We can’t?” Marigold’s face turns strained for a moment as he tries to

reach out with his mind. “We can’t,” he confirms.

“I suppose releasing our aura and punching through the door would cause
an immediate alarm,” Nazareth voices his thoughts. For a god, anything
other than Mana Crystal may as well be a sheet of paper. Unfortunately,
the gnome is right in assuming that ripping that sheet of paper would bring
down security on us.

“No problem, guys.” Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve an automated

decryption device. “You notice that this door is made out of metal? It isn’t
original Crystal-Tech, so it should be possible to open it.” I plug the device
which I got from a trusted specialist into the control panel next to the door.

One curious thing about the Crystal City is that it is in some kind of lock-
down mode. Nobody can open or close the original doors throughout the
city, of which most were left open for some reason when the owners left.

My trust in my source is confirmed moments later when the door slides

open, revealing some kind of research area with offices, partitioned off by
walls of glass.

“Whoa, who made that thing?” Nazareth ogles my decryption device with
respect. “I bet the Council doesn’t play cheap on the security in here.”

“A trusted specialist, don’t worry.” I pack the device away. “He drives a
hard bargain when giving away his work, but I have yet to encounter
something that’s beyond him when it comes to technology. We are lucky
that he isn’t on the Council’s side.”

With the way cleared, we enter the area and take a look around. The
offices give off the impression of belonging to some kind of intelligence
service, some charts on the walls linking various names and locations with
each other.

Ignoring the paperwork, I head straight ahead towards something like an

observation window that allows a look into a larger room.

Beyond the window is something like a hall, and in its centre is a floating
crystal sphere. “That looks interesting.”

The two brothers join me and Nazareth points at a spot beneath the
floating sphere. “Ooh, that’s not good. That golden skin, I know of only
one god with that style.”

Marigold nods. “El Shaddai, leader of the Council. We should get out of
here before he sees us.”
“But we still have nothing on them,” Nazareth whispers. “What is he
doing? Just staring at the sphere with raised hands? Looks almost as if he
is worshipping it.”

That’s when I notice two black shapes moving towards the window.
“Watch out!” I pull Nazareth away from the window, just as the first shape
breaks through.

Marigold steps forward, a blade of lightning appearing in his hand. He

strikes at the gaunt, vaguely humanoid thing, partly releasing his aura. A
strike which should have cleaved his enemy in two.

But the creature strikes out with a clawed hand, dispelling the half-orc’s
lightning blade and cutting through his aura as if it were nothing. Its claws
rake across Marigold’s chest as he kicks out in reflex, sending the thing
flying back through the observation window in a high arc.

Turning, he shoves us towards the exit. “Run, those things aren’t normal!”

“Haste!” Nazareth incants a spell, its effect surrounding all of us. Then he
is gone, his feet sounding like the staccato of machinegun fire on the
crystal floor.

I follow, finding my movements much faster than normal, even without

myself using internal magic to increase my abilities.

“Hungeerr...”

“Jooin usss...”

A cold shudder runs down my spine as we flee back the way we came, hot
pursuit right behind us and the facility’s alarms going off. But no matter
our speed, the second thing is right on our heels and catching up.

“What are those!?” Marigold asks as we run. “Guardians?”

“They aren’t normal!” Nazareth gasps. “Just an indistinct mass of inky

black and claws. I’ve never seen something like it!”
“The other is right behind us and it’s quick! We will never make it back
through the service tunnels without releasing our auras completely!”
Marigold observes after taking a look behind him.

“That thing didn’t care about your aura earlier!” Nazareth throws back.

“Then we have to kill the one which is directly on our tails as quickly as
possible and then escape before the second one or El Shaddai regain their
wits. I got the one I kicked really good, so I doubt that it will be right
behind the other one.”

Marigold summons two lightning swords as he stops at the earlier junction

with the signs.

Cursing, I join him, summoning life and death magic into each palm. As
much as I would like to keep running, he is right. These guardians don’t
seem to be very intelligent, because hunting down three gods must be
beyond a single pursuer.

In the next moment, the creature is on us and I release my own aura.

Marigold slides to the side, evading the guardian’s claws and slicing a
lightning blade across its left thigh.

The creature doesn’t react to the successful blow and follows up with a
kick, sending the half-orc flying against the wall and to the floor, ignoring
his aura completely.

Jumping in, I shoot the orb of death-magic at the creature and the orb of
life-magic at Marigold.

Totally unaffected, the guardian tanks my spell as if I just threw popcorn

at it. Howling, it jumps at me and takes me down, passing through my aura
like it wasn’t there. As it raises its claws, I ask myself if I misjudged the
thing’s intelligence.

Maybe it can take down three gods?

That’s when someone grabs the thing’s arm, pulling it off of me like it was
a toddler.

Swinging the creature around in an arc, Ascathon slams it into the wall
with a ‘crunch’. Not hesitating, he steps onto its shoulder-joint and pulls,
ripping out the arm and spraying an inky substance all over the floor. Yet
again, the thing proves its resistance to pain and skitters out from beneath
his boot by twisting its joints around in an unnatural manner. Doing so, it
propels itself off the floor and spinning in mid-air, the creature brings a
clawed hand to bear on its enemy. Ascathon raises an arm, expecting to
block the attack with ease.

But like with us, the creature strikes through his released aura and digs
inky, black claws into his forearm.

“It’s immune to magic!” I call out, getting back to my feet.

Furrowing his forehead, Ascathon twists his arm out of the creature’s
grasp, shredding his own flesh in the process. He takes a hold of the
thing’s remaining arm and pushes it against the wall, the palm of his other
hand against its chest.

“There is no such thing as immune to magic,” he grumbles as a brilliant

red light appears from beneath his palm, painting the entire corridor in a
red hue, combined with the sizzling of rending flesh.

Screeching, the creature twists and writhes in an attempt to get away, even
as its chest is shredded to pieces by an orb of chaotic, red energies.
Moments later it’s over and the thing’s inky head falls to the ground
together with its remaining arm. The lower torso slides to the floor and
tilts to the side, spilling out a mass that could count for intestines.

Even as the thing’s remains start evaporating, the second guardian reaches
us but stops at the corridor’s corner upon seeing its companion’s fate. It's
as if the spell in Ascathon's hand gives it cause to pause, where nothing
else we tried even fazed it.

“Ascended One!”
Hissing, it blurs and retreats, leaving us none the wiser, except for this
mysterious phrase.

Unsummoning the malicious red orb, Ascathon turns to face us while

casting healing magic on his shredded arm, observing its regeneration.
“And to think that I just repaired this body. So, care to explain what you
three are doing down here?”

“We could ask you the same!” Nazareth replies.

But the noise of running footsteps forces me to make this short. “No
time!” I rush over to Marigold and pull the groaning half-orc to his feet.
“Tell nobody that you encountered us down here, Ascathon! As much for
us as for your own sake. Buy us some time.”

Thankfully, the God of Chaos only furrows his forehead as I and my

companions retreat while he remains standing at the junction.
 Chapter 16

The Crystal City

Ascathon
I don’t have much time to think before Tjenemit and a group of nine
guards arrive at the junction. Sporting his usual trim attire, Tjenemit looks
all like a leader while the guards in their blue uniforms follow him like
cute, little puppies.

Just as expected, the Council member doesn’t look pleased as his eyes
sweep over the dissolving mess on the floor and my shredded arm. “What
happened here? I thought I told you not to leave the room!”

“Yes,” I reply. “But there was this whole alarm thing going on, and I at
least wanted to know whether I should make a run for it. No sense in dying
for nothing if I just could have evacuated with everyone else. Then I heard
noises from around the corner and, you know my curiosity, I just had to
check.”

I pat onto my chest, trying to look innocent. “And who would have
thought, there is this black, inky thing that could have come straight out of
some bad horror movie, throwing itself at me. Of course, I had to defend
myself, even ripped its arm off. But it kept coming.

“And colour me surprised when it struck straight through my aura as if it

wasn’t there. Almost took off my arm with its claws, see?” I hold up the
healing arm which still shows signs of injury. “That pissed me off, so I
took it apart.” I gesture at the floor. “Maybe we should bottle it up? Before
it completely dissolves, whatever that stuff is.”
Producing a vial from my pocket, I scoop up some of the goop and seal the
vial with a stopper. “It’s just good that as someone who thinks of himself
as a scientist I always carry something to gather materials. One never
knows when such things come in handy.”

Tjenemit plucks the vial out of my fingers. “I will be taking that, thank
you very much.”

Thief! That’s mine! I took it! Mine!

But judging by his sour expression, I may be better advised to keep my

mouth shut, so I forcefully suppress the instinct to jump him in order to
exact righteous revenge for this blatant theft. “Of course. You may want to
know that there was a second one of the things down that way.” I point out
the corridor in which the other monstrosity vanished. “It seemed like it
wasn’t very keen on sharing the fate of its buddy. If I may suggest to hunt
that thing down before it attacks another innocent passerby.”

Tjenemit’s eyes narrow and his expression loses all humour, if it can even
be said that he had some to begin with. “You said something about noises?
What was the creature doing to draw your attention? Or was it simply
making noise for the sake of it?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone when I arrived. But now that
you mention it, it sounded like it was fighting somebody.”

Seria and her companions must have more than enough of a head-start by
now, so it’s best to cover my own ass by being at least partially truthful. “It
seems kind of obvious that there must have been someone who stumbled
upon the creature before me. Unless it was deranged enough to be fighting
with itself. It didn’t strike me as the most intelligent of beasts.”

“Enough! You have cost us enough time!” He turns around, indicating two
of his man. “You two, check out the corridor that leads to the service
tunnels. The rest, go and check the restricted area for this second
creature.” Turning back to me, he steps in close. “If I find any indication
that you were intentionally stalling for time by dishing out useless details,
I’ll-”
“Sorry!” Raising both hands a little too quickly, I splatter a few droplets of
blood onto his perfect robe which is embroidered with countless symbols
and fine artwork, showing off his wealth and power. It isn’t as if any god
would have problems getting himself an expensive outfit, but only very
few actually go so far as to flaunt their wealth like that. “You see, I was
never that keen on any form of military service for exactly that reason. I
am simply unable to give proper reports if I am high on adrenaline! It has
nothing to do with you or any kind of ill will towards my superiors!”

Instead of answering, Tjenemit looks down at the splatters of blood on his

fine outfit.

“Ah, sorry. Just send me the bill,” I add hastily. Damn. As far as Council
members go, Tjenemit is the calmest of them, but I am quickly using up
all the composure he seems to have left.

Thankfully, that’s when we get interrupted by screams from down the

corridor where the bulk of Tjenemit’s guards went in search of the
monster.

Cursing, Tjenemit cuts reprimanding me short and follows the screams as

quickly as possible without running. “Come. I may use you as a
meatshield to make up for your incompetence!”

I don’t reply, following the Council member like a cute little puppy.

What we find around the corner and through a door that leads into
something like an intelligence service’s office isn’t exactly pretty. Several
of the glass walls which separate various working areas are broken and
paper is strewn all over the floor. In the heat of battle, a large part of the
office was already destroyed.

The seven remaining guards who Tjenemit sent in order to deal with the
monster found their prey, but it seems like they are unable to subdue it.

One guard is lying on the floor with blood bubbling up from between his
lips. The monster cleaved his chest open and exposed his innards for all
the world to take a look. A second one is trying to stop the bleeding from a
severed foot.

The remaining five have the creature driven against a wall, circling it in a
half-circle. But that’s as much as they achieved, as none of them is really
willing to close the distance and take on the thing.

It’s the first time that I get to take a really good look at the thing without
being in mortal combat. The thing seems to consist as much of an inky
substance, as of physical shadows. What makes it hard to describe apart
from its general humanoid form and some distinct features are the
writhing movements between its flesh and the permanent state of
dissolving and recreation the thing seems to be caught in. The overall
result is that the creature’s outer edges seem to constantly blur and sharpen
in unpredictable patterns.

“What are you doing?” Tjenemit barks. “Just kill the cursed thing!”

“It’s immune to magic, Sir!” One of the men calls out, using a conjured
sword to slice a piece off the monster as it tries to strike out in order to
maul another man. A third guard casts a ball of energy which hits the
monster, but the spell seems like nothing more than a light-show on the
creature’s skin as the energy dissolves without effect.

Sensing an opening, the creature jumps forward, breaking the circle of

guards. It barrels into one of the men, throwing him onto his back and
laying into him with its claws. The guard’s aura pulses in an instinctive,
defensive reaction and forces the other guards to step away.

“Multiverse! Save me from incompetent fools!” Tjenemit points a finger

at the thing, casting a tiny spell formation. The spell matrix blazes into
existence and channels a ray of pure energy through some kind of
miniature gateway which makes it seem like a blaze of brilliant light
erupts from his fingertip.

Shielding my eyes, I watch as the ray of light stabs through the creature’s
chest. Tjenemit moves his finger upwards, splitting the creature from its
chest up in two. Then his finger flicks here and there, dicing the thing to
pieces within moments. Arms tumble to the ground and the torso falls
away in pieces until there is nothing left to hold the legs together and they
too fall away to the sides.

Impressed, I eye his fingertip, wishing that he hadn’t controlled the

creation of his spell matrix so tightly. I would have wished to know the
exact activation sequence he used to allow a powerful anti-shielding curse
to hitch-hike a ride on a simple disintegration ray. Because that’s what he
must have used to strike through the thing’s defences where his men
failed.

It seems like I went a little overboard when I killed my own opponent.

Good to know that the things aren’t truly immune to magic, and that
effects which are designed to penetrate magical defences work.

That’s when a door in the room’s far left corner opens and none other than
El Shaddai, leader of the Council, enters the room. “What’s going on in
here?” He is clad in an unassuming grey tunic, but everyone would
recognise the leader of the Council immediately. There are very few who
are daring enough to try to copy his looks. The bald head and the metallic,
golden skin are like a trademark.

I often wonder from where in the multiverse El Shaddai got his body. It
could be that he is some form of elemental, like Willow. But nobody who
saw Willow and El Shaddai next to each other would put them in the same
category. Where Shaddai’s features are like a chiselled statue, Willow is
much more organic with slight imperfections. The leader of the Council
has none of those, making him seem more like a golem than a living
being.

In an attempt to make myself as unnoticeable and inconsiderable as

possible, I step slightly away and behind Tjenemit. Sure enough, Tjenemit
steps forward to face El Shaddai, gaining his full attention.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you. How did these things get in here?”
Tjenemit points at the diced remains of the monster.
El Shaddai looks at the dissolving remains of the creature. I don’t know if
it’s just me, but the Council member doesn’t seem in the least surprised to
find this thing inside one of his inner sanctums. Shouldn’t someone whose
security was just broken be less concerned with the presence of another
Council member, and more with the unnatural invader on the floor?

“I don’t know. I only know that someone broke the observation window
while I was deep in trance, communing with the sphere.” He points out a
shattered window at the wall. “While I was meditating I didn’t notice
anything unusual. When I opened my eyes, I left the observation room
because of the damage and found you here.”

My eyes narrow involuntarily at that. Which sphere? An observation

room? Is this somehow connected to how the Council manages to find any
deity who tries to escape their attention?

Sadly, that’s when Tjenemit remembers my presence. “I think you have

been helpful enough.” Regally gesturing for his guards, he points towards
the door. “Someone, see to it that he returns to Eris and finishes his work.
Don’t leave him without supervision. Once he is done, make sure that he
leaves the facility without further ado.”

While the others take care of their wounded comrades, one of the
uninjured men steps forward eagerly, sensing the chance to extract himself
from his superior’s presence.

I don’t challenge his wisdom in this course of action. Nodding at

Tjenemit, I turn around and leave without saying a word. Then I head back
to Eris’s sickroom while the guard follows me dutifully.

This gives me time to have a few thoughts about what I just experienced.
The fact that there are strange creatures roaming the Council’s facilities.
That some Council members know nothing about these things, while
others seem to be in the know. What about the sphere and this room which
seemed like an intelligence service?

It paints a currently incomprehensible picture. Up until now, I was under

the impression that the Council is on the same course for most of their
policies, but apparently, that’s not the case.

We arrive back at Eris's sickroom and I spend the rest of the day with
repairing what's possible to repair and rebuilding the rest in hope that she
would at least end up as a functioning person. Tampering with a human
mind isn't so easy and I end up guessing more often than not at which part
belongs where.

Finally, I finish my work with the trepidation that Eris will always be a
little unhinged.

Tired and worn out, I allow the guard to escort me outside the facility
where fate decides to continue playing more games with me.

As soon as I set my foot outside the door, a flash of light envelops me, the
world enchantment doing its work.

I appear in something like a large, damp cellar with over a dozen men and
women in black robes chanting in some sort of ritual. What seems to be
their leader is waving his hands in the air, trying to control the magic
which is channelled from his followers through him and into the
summoning circle beneath my feet. They all have hoods over their heads,
hiding their faces.

At this point, I can't even muster the effort to be surprised.

Tired of it all, I allow my eyes to wander through the room until I notice
that the summoning circle was drawn with blood and that there are bodies
of various ages dumped in a corner. It speaks to my tiredness that I am
neither appalled by the summoning method, nor by the gruesome death
cult who managed the feat.

Tilting my head upwards, I let out a groan. “Why do I always get the
maniacs?” I ask the ceiling.

Of course, there is no answer. A god has it tough when calling upon higher
powers.
“Heed my command!” The cult-leader points a finger at me. “Grant us
eternal life!”

As he pours more power into the circle, I feel a slight tingle in the back of
my head which causes me to give the circle a little more attention. Sure
enough, it isn't just a mere conglomeration of useless symbols. This is
definitely an attempt at influencing the target inside the circle against its
will.

“Why isn't he saying anything?” one of the followers asks.

“Maybe we did something wrong? What if he isn't bound by the

commandments?” another one voices his own doubt. At that, the crowd
behind the leader starts stirring. If they heard about my reputation, then
some of them surely can imagine what fate has in store for them.

Sensing the growing panic, the leader raises his hand and gestures towards
a cage which eluded my attention up until now. “Get another blood
sacrifice. We may need more power to influence the god.”

One of the sect-members starts towards the cage which contains a sobbing
woman with a child in her arms.

“I will grant your wish,” I announce, maybe a little too theatrical. But I am
just too pissed off at this point. I am tired, my head hurts, I had to do as I
was told the entire day, and now this stupid world enchantment whisks me
away to who knows where into one of the most unpleasant environments I
can imagine.

At least my reverberating voice had the intended effect, causing complete

silence within the room and drawing the full attention of all the cultists.

Gesturing for the leader, I point in front of me on the floor. “Come here
and kneel down, so that I may enlighten you on my path.”

Almost eagerly, the man with the red hood comes forward and falls to his
knees. Now that he is close I can even see most of his face, not that I care
about some guy's mug.
“Open your mouth and hold out your tongue,” I incant in a religious
manner.

The man turns around to look at his followers, but his greed is stronger
than his surprise about the strange command. Facing me, he opens his
mouth and stretches out his tongue.

Reaching out quickly, I grab the large muscle and rip it out of his throat.

The natural result is a lot of screaming, followed by gurgling as the man

drowns in his own blood due to the improperly executed amputation. Next,
I teleport to the man at the cage and rip a metal bar out of the prison.

While the crowd is still stunned, I swing the improvised weapon with
enough force to make it swish through the air with a rather nice tone.

The cultist's jaw disintegrates in a spray of blood and bone.

Then the hunt is on as I chase screaming cultists through the cellar,

breaking bones and heads while taking great care in holding back my
strength. After all, I want at least some of them to remember this.

While bashing in a woman's head, I notice that some are trying to get out
through a heavy, locked door. So I choose them as my next targets,
laughing about their stupidity as I rush towards them. Who locks himself
inside a room with a monster?

At some point in my hunt, I start humming, being reminded of playing

chase with my friends during another reincarnation. It was a good one, but
my parents from back then never liked it when we were playing that
particular game. Suddenly, I remember parts of the song which was always
sung while the game was played.

“Schwere Schritte auf den Stufen.

Niemand hört uns, wenn wir rufen!
Niemand hört uns, wenn wir schreien!

...
Wer hat Angst vor'm schwarzen Mann?

...

Wer hat Angst vor'm schwarzen Mann?

Lässt du nachts die Lichter an?
Und wenn er kommt, was tust du dann?
Dann laufen wir, laufen wir davon!

...

Wer hat Angst vor'm schwarzen Mann?

Lass ihn niemals an dich ran!
Doch wenn er kommt, was tun wir dann?
Dann laufen wir, laufen wir davon!

Lauf, lauf, lauf!

Davon!
Lauf, lauf, lauf!
Davon!”

Slowly, their screams wane as their numbers dwindle. Accordingly, my ire

slowly subsides until I am the only one left standing.

Huffing and puffing, I overlook the carnage until I notice that someone is
watching me.

Myrm is standing next to the cage with the sobbing woman and her child.
Very slowly, without saying a word, he turns his head from left to right,
inspecting the massacre. I can only imagine how I must have looked like
chasing the cultists while humming a tune.

“What the ever loving shit are you doing?” he whispers.

I drop the metal bar and try to correct my attire. Not that it matters, with
blood and pieces of brain all over it. “Nothing much. They tried to force
me to do stuff with a poorly executed blood-ritual. I didn't consent and
decided to blow off some steam with the good old methods.”
Walking over to the cultist leader who is writhing on the floor while
holding his throat, I pick him up and cast a healing spell on him. “I'll take
this one, you can have the rest.”

Waving at Myrm, I take a pathway, pulling the cultist with me before the
deity can complain. I still have a grudge him, but now is neither the time
nor the place for petty revenge.

The captured 'treat' and I appear on the central corridor in my secret base,
where I drop the man like the piece of trash he is.

“Finally!” I sigh. “Home sweet home.”

Turning, I walk towards my private quarters, waving at passing succubus.

“Dia? Diana! That's you right?”

“Yes, my lord. Today all bloody? I like the style!” Raising a hand, she
starts nibbling on her thumb in anticipation. Then the grey-skinned and
barely dressed beauty nods eagerly. “It's like in the good old days when
you came back to the castle after another conquest. Should we have some
fun?”

“Not right now. I am too tired.”

“Aw...” she pouts.

Pointing back, I indicate the cultist who is looking around with wild eyes,
trying to get his bearings after the miraculous healing.

“Say, Diana. You are up for some rough stuff, right?” I ask.

“Surrree,” she purrs. “All of us are trained for all kinds of experiences.
You know that.”

“Good! That guy was a really bad boy and deserves some punishment. You
can have him, including his soul. Just make sure that he doesn't die too
early, or the world enchantment will fuck with me again,” I explain,
already eager for sleep.
“You are too nice! To give me a personal present!” Not waiting for another
second, she step-dances towards the cultist and pounces like a cat onto her
prey.

Too tired to care, I saunter off to my rooms to wash and head for my bed
where I am soon joined by my purring pet. The ghost cat's paws wander
slowly over my body until it reaches its preferred spot. It circles once on
top of my chest before it settles down for sleep. And then I am out like a
light.
 Chapter 17

The World
Karin
“No thanks, James,” I wave my hand diminutively, refusing the offered
piece of ham from Ascathon’s newest minion. The dried up husk of a man,
a zombie, shrugs and shambles off with the plentiful plate of breakfast
dishes while dragging his feet. I follow his jerky retreat, horrified that a
thing like him can even move.

Ascathon's newly employed 'butler' is nothing more than pale skin over a
skeleton of bones. His pale lips and eyeballs retreated deep into his skull,
turning him into a caricature of the human he once was. Had I encountered
this creature before I was practically adopted by Ascathon and Willow, I
would have thought of it as the personification of death itself. It doesn’t
help that someone gave him a complete butler’s outfit.

Of course, I know better by now. Apart from me, James is probably the
least dangerous being in this room.

“Would you hand me the salt, dear,” Ashley asks from the other side of the
table, pointing a delicate finger at the bottle with salt. “And don't be so
cold to the new employee. He isn't to blame for his current undead state.
It's what's happens when Diana sucks you dry and a necromantic god
decides to use the remains.”

I shove the bottle of salt closer to Ashley, allowing it to slide over the
table. The succubus smiles with her sinuous red lips and spices her
scrambled egg with a generous amount. A strand of hair falls into her face
as she opens her delicate lips to test the taste and she brushes it back,
tugging it behind her tiara-like horns. Even though it's early in the
morning, the succubus matriarch looks like sex personified in her
scandalous black dress.

Contrary to that, Willow is more like me, her bed-hair an unruly mane.
She also chose casual clothes, a blue t-shirt and white trousers, which she
must have picked for comfort rather than looks. I purse my lips when I
read the provocative 'Squeeze for milk.' on the shirt and look down at
myself, once more feeling diminished.

Quickly, I slap my own cheek. Think cheerful thoughts! I am young! Still

growing!

Ashley, Ascathon, Willow and I met up in the kitchen area earlier this
morning to enjoy breakfast together and to talk about the current state of
affairs in order to coordinate our plans. Well, mostly to coordinate our
plans with Ascathon. So far, the god took some steps to shape the world
according to his wishes, but I'll be damned if there was any organized
intention behind his actions up until now.

Willow tried to explain the affairs of the gods to me, but I still fail to
grasp the greater picture. Even knowing the age of these people, I fail to
understand how someone can become so indifferent to life. Or is it more
that time and age made them apathetic towards the struggles of others?

Will I become like them in a few hundred years? Will the lives of mortals
be nothing more to me than what I feel towards insects right now?

Still, I can't stop myself from following the walking corpse with my eyes
as he switches between tasks in the kitchen. Why does the living area have
to be combined with a kitchen? It's bad design, not to mention that the
poor guests have to smell the cook's work. “It's just that... isn't it
unhygienic to have a dead person touch your food? It’s icky.”

“It's perfectly fine,” Ascathon replies while chewing on a piece of ham

which was delivered by James. For once, the god isn't in dark leather
armour, but in baggy, grey trousers and a shirt which look very
comfortable while allowing him complete freedom of movement.

He continues, “And James isn't so much a zombie, but more like a ghoul.
To fulfill his wish, I dumped the remains that Diana left behind into
formaldehyde for disinfection. Then I brought the body back to unlife, but
I made him a little more than a basic zombie so that I wouldn't be bothered
with maintenance work. Then I hooked him up to the synaptic learning
machine and uploaded everything a good servant needs. He is perfect!
Soulless, completely dedicated to his purpose, and absolutely hygienic
because he doesn't have a metabolism. No sneezing, no unwashed hands
after the toilet. In many ways, he is superior to a living cook.”

“I am still not convinced that you acted according to the intent of the
man's wish.” Willow pokes at her food, and I feel a little better that at
least one other person doesn't want her food to be touched by something
that looks like a corpse. Raising an eyebrow, Willow digs into her
scrambled egg and retrieves something that looks like aluminum foil. “Are
you sure that you managed to preserve James’s eyesight? It seems like he
threw some of the packagings in with the food.”

Ascathon clears his throat. “Well, he is a ghoul. They don’t have the best
of eyesight when it’s bright. Maybe I’ll scoop out his eyes and replace
them with electronics when there is time. I think I still have some
prosthetics lying around which I originally intended for you, Willow.”

The elemental doesn’t look up from picking her food apart. “Would you
please stop using the left-overs from other projects when you experiment
on people? At some point, you will do something that can’t be taken
back.”

Ascathon shrugs. “Believe me or not, but I always consider my

experiments very carefully and everything I use is high quality. And
regarding James’s wish: He said that he wanted to be immortal. It's not my
fault that he didn't understand the nature of his wish.” He spears another
piece of ham with his fork and adds a piece of boiled egg. “What should I
have done? His soul was already immortal when he made the request.
Nothing will ever change that. The only thing that was perishable was his
mortal body, so I turned his body immortal. Who cares that Diana sucked
out his soul? He never specified that his body and his soul have to stay in
one piece and I would rather not have a despicable person like him
around.”

I slowly chop my own boiled egg into smaller pieces, considering

Ascathon's words. “What happens if a succubus takes a person's soul? Isn't
that a bad thing?”

“Oh, not at all, Dear,” Ashley replies. “It's a traditional technique for
succubi so that they can always have their partners with them, or at least
their memories. We can utilize sex-magic to weaken the bonds of the
metaphysical anchor between the soul and the body. Then we absorb this
anchor into ourselves, which allows us access to all the soul's memories.
Afterward, we know everything our partner knew.”

“It's basically a technique to steal memories,” Ascathon clarifies.

“Yes, though please don’t say it like that. It’s a holy act and ‘stealing’
sounds so mundane and wrong.” Ashley chimes and nods. “Once all the
memories the succubus wants are absorbed, the anchor is ejected, allowing
the soul to rejoin the reincarnation process and begin a new life, clean and
completely purified.”

“Just to bring this into perspective, that’s the worst thing that could happen
to an immortal, or anyone for that matter,” Ascathon adds. “It means that
you are reduced to level zero and have to start climbing the ladder of
ascendency anew. Should something like that happen to a god, he would be
effectively reduced to a mortal. It's also why I gave James a new name.”
He furrows his forehead. “Not that I ever got to asking for his real name
before I fed him to Diana...”

“You could ask her,” Ashley suggests. “If you are lucky, she still
remembers it. She is a good girl.”

For a moment, Ascathon seems tempted, but then he shakes his head.
“Nah, he was just a random cultist. Not worth remembering.”
“That's horrible!” I gulp. “To steal memories like that!”

Ashley raises a finger, wagging it at me. “Ah, ah. We don't speak of it like
that. It's a sacred ritual of purification to all of succubus-kind. Only highly
regarded mates get to experience it.”

Willow clears her throat. “Maybe that's why all the male demons are so
violent and seek death in battle rather than at home.”

The succubus matriarch pauses and considers that, but shakes her head
after a moment of indecision. “That's surely not the reason. Why would
they willingly give up the chance to be forever in their lover's heart? You
must be mistaken.” Then she continues eating, the matter clearly already
forgotten.

Ascathon takes in a long breath and lets out a lungful of air from between
his lips. Finished with his food, he places his knife and fork on the empty
plate and shoves it a little further away from him so that he has space for
his arms on the table. “Which brings us to the original reason for this
meeting. I think that all of you already know that Luxley and this Order of
Chaos are setting up a political and religious faction in my name. So far, I
haven't done much to assist them.”

“Myrm is doing the same in the northern part of the continent,” Willow
adds. “My sources are telling me that she has a well-established foothold
in the Tilien Kingdom, a place with a long history of religious worship.
The whole area is former Sociocrathy territory, and the people there never
really stopped practising their religion.”

“Urgh.” Ascathon tightens his grip on his fork. “The Sociocrathy and their
religion... how I despised those guys. Back then I shouldn't have killed just
their priests and the leadership. I should have manufactured some plan to
wipe out the entire population and finish the job. That's what I get for
kindness.” He turns to look at me. “Always remember, don't fight the
people, fight the idea. Religion is like a tumour in people's minds.”

I nod, even though I have no clue what he means.

Returning his attention to Willow, he points his fork at her, furrowing his
forehead. “How is it that you are so well informed?”

The elemental sighs, still busy with her food. “I may be a reclusive shut-in
who is hiding in this base, but I am still interested in what's going in the
world. There are several people who give me regular reports on the overall
political situation.”

He nods. “I personally would like to do nothing and leave the mortals to

their own fate. But as we all know, the World Enchantment and the Council
leave me little choice in this matter. My short-term goal is to make my
religion known so that I won't get summoned to every random shithole the
World Enchantment can drag me into. Goal number two is to eventually
find a glitch in the system. Whoever created this World Enchantment has
already proven his or her incompetence. I am sure that with time it's
possible to find a pattern I can abuse.”

He reaches for his neck, rubbing the amulet there between two fingers. “I
have started research on the matter. Unfortunately, it seems to be not that
easy to destroy a World Enchantment. They are like a self-replicating
Ward spell which spreads across the world. I am still surprised how
anyone could be insane enough to let magic of that kind loose, so this will
be a long-term project. It would have been easy if there was something
that I can break to end the nightmare, but that’s not the case. It’s also the
reason why Tjenemit and his ilk have a hard time making changes to the
World Enchantment. They have to design other World Enchantments
which spread in the same manner and change the purpose of the existing
one. Rather than to simply dispel the World Enchantment, I would have to
create a World Enchantment with the purpose of deleting the original,
somehow making sure that I get every little piece of it, or it would simply
reassemble itself.”

I raise both eyebrows. There is magic which Ascathon is reluctant to use?

But he is right. If a World Enchantment is that hard to get rid of, then
making one without strenuous testing sounds like a very stupid idea. Then
again, didn’t Willow say that Tjenemit and this Council are using this
world and others as a pilot project? Just who are these Council guys, to use
an entire world for an untested experiment?
Sadly, I have a feeling that Ascathon wouldn’t be any different if he had
sufficient reason for a dangerous experiment. After getting to know him in
person, I agree that he deserves his reputation. At the very least, I can
imagine him blowing up a town for no other reason than that it would have
been too much of a hassle to conduct a dangerous experiment in a deserted
countryside.

“Coming back to the matter with the mortals.” He waves his fork through
the air. “I think all of the older people in this room have enough
experience to imagine how a freely run religion and general fanaticism can
turn into a living hell for its own followers. I don't want that to happen
with something that has my name on it.” Turning his head, he looks at
Ashley. “Ashley, it would be nice if you and your daughters could infiltrate
the mortals and influence them as we originally planned.”

She nods. “We will be glad to do so. But I am sure that my daughters will
want to have some fun once in a while. You can't expect a succubus to
work all day long without having some fun.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “This world doesn't lack people who
deserve getting eaten. There are surely more mortals than you and your
daughters would ever want. I have prepared some papers with general
guidelines of what I imagine for my religion. It would be nice if you could
start influencing the mortals accordingly. I have complete faith in your
methods.”

Furrowing my forehead, I look questioningly at Willow.

The elemental smiles and answers my unspoken question. “Succubi are the
spies of the demon world. Their special skills make them not only perfect
partners, but it also gives them the ideal disposition to influence people.”

“I suppose...” I reply carefully. The fact that each of them has several
thousand years of experience may also be a helping factor.

Ascathon clears his throat and I return my attention to him.

For once, he looks unsure. “The only question that I am not entirely sure
about is whether or not I should allow other faiths beside my own.”

“You mentioned that there are over a dozen deities who are also caught in
the World Enchantment with you,” Willow confirms in a questioning tone.
“If that’s the case, then wouldn’t it be bad to forbid their worship? Even if
the gods themselves don’t care about being worshipped, wouldn’t it
automatically drive their worshippers into the arms of your opposition?
Therefore, turning these deities into your enemies, whether they want to or
not? After all, they will have to react to their worshipper’s prayers in some
manner.”

“That’s a reasonable argument,” Ascathon admits. “So far, only Myrm

seems to be in direct opposition to me. That’s because he represents my
direct opposite, but I have a feeling that we would have come to blows in
any case. Turning away the followers of other gods would turn them into
my enemies, and therefore the gods they worship. A very good point. Just
as I have no other choice, those deities would have to take actions against
me.”

Ashley runs a finger down her chin, tapping it in thought. “Hmm…

Willow is right, but maybe you are also putting too much weight on the
opposition of other deities. Didn’t you say that Tjenemit gave the gods
only a year during which they are allowed direct intervention? If that’s the
case, then other gods will cease to matter that much in the great picture.
Rather than direct opposition, other religions will become competition for
your own.”

“It would still turn them against me and I am still not entirely sure what
Tjenemit meant with direct intervention. Does this mean that I am no
longer allowed to raise my hand against mortals? That all I can do is to
hand out power on a silver platter? Or am I just not allowed to raise my
hand against the followers of another god. That's why I am trying to gather
mortal avatars who are able to act in my stead.”

A chill runs down my spine as I realize for the first time what it means to
be a god's avatar. Will Myrm be allowed to strike me down as he wishes?
Suddenly it seems like a very good idea to have assistance on my side, so I
raise my hand as if I am in a classroom. “Unless you actively include other
deities in your religion,” I suggest, drawing the attention of everyone in
the room. “I- I- mean… the northmen do it. They have a deity for almost
everything in their pantheon. Who says that your religion has to be only
about you?”

“Hmm.” Ascathon scratches his chin in thought. “I am not the most

popular of people, but there may be one or two deities who I can
blackmail...”

“Di- didn't you mention that there are over a dozen deities in the current
pantheon?” And he says that of all of them only one or two would join
him... because of blackmail!

“Yes, but please understand that such things take time, Karin.” He looks at
me. “Alliances are always something that has to be considered very
carefully.”

Then he claps his hands together. “In any case, I was thinking about
sending you on a trip, Karin. There is this particular dimension which
seems perfect to give you battle experience and I suppose that the
inhabitants are neither too strong nor too weak for you. After a few more
weeks of tutoring when I can be sure that you have the basics down, I will
send you there for a year or two.”

“A year!?” I burst out.

“Oh, my poor child.” Willow wipes at her eyes. “They grow up so fast.
What will I do if you have grown up by the time you return?”

“That's why you are joining her.” Ascathon throws in. “The child needs a
chaperone.”

“Me!?” Willow shrieks, dropping her fork. “What did I do for being sent
to exile!? This is my home, I don't want to go on a trip!”

Ascathon sighs. “Don't make this harder than it is. I'll check in on you as
often as I can. But the following months will be very busy and... stuff
happened... in the Crystal City, involving the Council. To say the least, I
am concerned and I want you two out of the way for a while. Ashley can
take care of herself and open a portal to another dimension if things get
out of hand, but neither of you two can walk the planes between the
worlds. Willow is a good teleporter, but that's it. I want you two in a safe
place until I am sure that things aren't in immediate danger of blowing up
on this world.”

That takes Willow aback. She clearly never before saw Ascathon
concerned for her well being. “What happened?”

He purses his lips, considering what to tell us. But then he shakes his head.
“It's nothing tangible. Just strange stuff. Creatures which are able to hurt
gods who have their aura released, strange things going on between the
Council members. It's not like I suddenly have definite proof that
something will happen. To be honest, I am clearly overreacting, but I
thought about sending Karin on an educational trip before that, and
expediting things now might get both of you out of the way of future
trouble.”

The elemental nods slowly and turns to me. “Karin, we are packing. Ready
yourself for a long vacation.”
 Chapter 18

Another World
Karin
Setting down my backpack, I hug Ashley to say goodbye before Ascathon
can take Willow and me away to another world. Normally I would feel
dread at the idea of having to travel off-world, but with Willow at my side,
I feel somewhat safe.

The succubus matriarch pats my shoulder. “Aw, no hard feelings, kid. We

barely knew each other for a few days. A few training sessions are hardly
enough to instil that kind of kinship.”

“Still,” I answer and let go of her. “You are nice... for someone who eats
people. See to it that you don't get hurt. Okay?”

“Don't worry, kid.” She makes a fist-pump. “I've survived things that you
can't even imagine. And it's certainly not like I would tangle with one of
Ascathon's enemies. They are outside my weight-class. If something
shows up that's even close to a lesser deity, I'll turn around and run for it.
Besides, I'll visit you once a month. It would be a shame if you were to
forget all about our training during your trip!”

“Ahahaha...” I try to laugh, sounding very artificial, in an attempt to hide

the sudden feeling of vertigo at the sudden threat of the succubus
continuing my training.

“Ha...” After she taught me the basics, thrilled at my talent in picking up

new magical techniques, she was getting ever more pushy for me to learn
some of the skills which require sexual intimacy. I really would like to
unlearn one particular spell which requires me to get naked and touch my
opponent.

“Haaah...” Sighing deeply, I give in to my fate and try to come to terms

with picking up a few lewd things. Something tells me that I already
stepped over the point of no return when Ashley taught me Energy-Drain
to weaken the enemy.

How did they say in my hometown? The teacher rubs off on the student?

“Are you ready?” Ascathon asks, studying Willow and me.

Both of us chose wide travel clothes, trousers and shirts, out of a sturdy
synthetic fabric which – according to Willow – repels water and dirt.

Willow nods and gestures for me to come closer. “Get here, Karin. And
ready yourself. This will be the first time for you to experience the
pathways.”

Furrowing my forehead, I step closer so that Ascathon can touch the both
of us. “But I already experienced them, didn't I?”

“Mmmyes...” Ascathon confirms, sounding like he isn't really sure how to

answer that, or whether he should answer at all. “But I only took you on
short trips when I teleported you before. It's like hopping into a city-bus
and getting out at the next station, barely getting a look at the outside. This
will be the race-car version since we are travelling to another dimension.
And due to the fact that like Willow and Ashley, you have the potential for
true godhood, you will likely have a quite different experience. A mortal
wouldn’t be aware of the transportation process at all. From his
perspective, he would simply disappear and reappear somewhere else.
You, on the other hand, have the potential to sense the pathways. It will be
like throwing you into the cold water without you having ever experienced
the sensation.”

I open my mouth to ask how different of an experience it will be, but

Ascathon squeezes my shoulder, holding me tight. “Right! No time to
waste. A proper explanation wouldn't change anything anyway!
Sometimes, the only way to learn how to fly is to be thrown off a cliff!”

“Of a cliff!?”

A flash of bright light and sparks envelop us. But instead of appearing
right away in another place, I find myself falling down something like a
tunnel of light. Trying to flail and scream, I realize that I have no body. I
am only consciousness in an immaterial world.

Instinctively, I know that time and space have no meaning in this state of
existence.

Floating all around me is an immense web of these tunnels, these

pathways, instinct tells me from within.

Approaching something like a nexus point, the tunnel makes a sharp turn
and I find myself going in a completely different direction while I tumble
without the slightest ability to orient myself. At some point, a bright
centre plummets past my awareness, a point where all pathways converge.
Or rather? Is it not where they converge? Again, instinct tells me that it
would be more appropriate to call it a point of origin.

Uncountable of these nexus points zap past me, disorienting me.

And then it's over as we emerge on a lawn. For a moment, I just stand
there, the world spinning around me. I am unable to tell if this trip just
lasted a mere instant or an eternity. Trying to remember what I just felt, I
retch, my mind unable to cope with what just happened. A state of being
without time or material existence.

“She is going to do it,” Willow announces.

It's as if I just took a look down the abyss of the truth behind the
multiverse, and my mind shattered, unable to cope with the immensity of
it all. For a moment, I was one with these pathways and through them with
the whole multiverse. I realize that that's how a god is able to navigate the
eternity between worlds and different realities. While on the trip, they
simply know where to go.

Having had a glimpse at a truth beyond the comprehension of my mortal

existence, I feel bile slowly rising up my throat.

“Ah, turn that way.” Hands on my shoulders, turn me away from Ascathon
and Willow.

The sudden movement shatters the last bit of control over my body and I
bend over, emptying the contents of my stomach on the ground. Falling to
my knees, I unleash another stream of orange juice and half-digested eggs
and bread. After a third time, I continue to dry heave without anything
more to give.

Finally, my stomach realizes that it's out of ammunition. Oh, gods. I hope I
didn't also pee myself.

Willow pats my back, cooing like a concerned mother. “There, there. Don't
worry, dear. You should have seen me the first time. Come to think of it,
maybe we should have told you to eat something light for breakfast. That
would have made it easier.” She hands me a towel from somewhere,
clearly having anticipated the need for one.

“Not really,” Ascathon comments. “As a god, the first time is somewhat
bearable, but I have taken enough people with potential with me to know
that it's harder on them for some reason. They always soil themselves.”

Taking me by the arm she puts one arm beneath my shoulder joint and lifts
me back to my feet, making sure to support me.

“Thank you,” I mumble while trying to clean myself. To be honest, I

wouldn't be able to stand right now wasn't it for Willow's assistance.

“Take the bottle and rinse out your mouth.” Holding a bottle of water in
front of me, she holds me steady while I do my best to return myself to an
acceptable state.
Having taken care of my dilemma, Willow looks around, inspecting the
crowd of people who are staring at us with wide eyes.

There are several stone houses with paths made out of cobblestone
connecting them. From the looks of it, it seems like we are in a village
which is located on a small hill. Beyond the gentle fall of the hillside is a
stone wall twenty feet in height. We appeared in the clear area between the
village’s outer wall and the settled area, somewhat above the wall's height.
It seems like it’s forbidden to build houses right next to the wall, because
there is a generous distance between the settled area and the line of
defense.

Now that I slowly start getting my act together, I can also see the logic in
that. Should the wall fall, the tightly packed houses automatically turn into
a second line of defense.

Above us on the hilltop is a large elevated structure. It isn’t quite what I

would have called a castle from my world. The large block-like building
seems to be made out of solid stone. At least I can’t identify anything that
looks like bricks or stacked stonework. Someone must have invested a lot
of time to shape the stone with magic, or the people here are capable of
creating some form of cement. Something I am only aware of thanks to
Ascathon’s learning machine.

In any case, the large central building of the settlement has more in
common with a bunker instead of a castle. I don’t want to know why the
people of this world invest so much time and energy in creating such a
monstrosity when the rest of their living conditions seem to be so poor.

Pulling her eyes away from the gawking crowd, Willow turns to Ascathon.
“What’s with the primitive place? They look like medieval peasants, dirty
and in rags. It's worse than in our world.”

Ascathon looks around, wiping his hands on his dark robe in an attempt to
remove some sweat and to give himself something to do. “Actually, this is
a pretty advanced settlement for this world's standards and with its two
thousand inhabitants also one of the largest.”
My eyebrows rise involuntarily as I reassess my first impression of this
village. Admittedly, from our vantage point I can see only a part of the
place, but judging by what I can see I can hardly imagine that there are
two thousand inhabitants in this settlement. If Ascathon hadn’t said so, I
would have said that there are no more than two or three hundred people in
this place.

Reassessing the houses with new eyes, I also realize that each seems to
harbour several families on three separate floors.

Not caring the slightest about our audience, Ascathon waves his hand,
indicating the world behind the walls. “This world is frequently ravaged
by heavy mana storms. The uncontrolled magic mutates and transforms
the inhabitants and animals at best, kills them at worst. The locals are
mainly concerned with surviving what’s beyond their walls. The language
is the same as at home, so this is a perfect training trip for Karin. Just
blend in with the locals and fight the things outside.”

He pats his chest, then his hips, searching for something. “Ah, there they
are.” Reaching into his pocket, he hands us two amulets. “Here, take these.
They are enchanted with a combination of illusions and an adaptive
glamour which influences the minds of those looking at you.”

I accept the gift. Ashley already started teaching me transformation, but I

am far from being able to do it perfectly. Without her supervision, I would
be hesitant to use it. It would be quite bad to end up locked in a form
which is hideous to look at.

Willow takes hers and glares at the crowd, then back at Ascathon. “And
you didn’t think that it would have been better to give us these before you
teleported us into the middle of their settlement?”

“Ah.” Ascathon notices the mortals for the first time. Putting on a slightly
conflicted expression of indecision, he raises his hand. “No problem. I’ll
just-”

“Not necessary!” Willow quickly slaps at Ascathon’s hand in an attempt to

stop him from doing whatever he intended to do. “I doubt that they would
be any more inclined to accept newcomers if you wipe out everyone who
saw us arrive!”

Sucking in a sharp breath, the crowd retreats a few steps, at least the front
rows who heard what was spoken. Of course, it doesn’t take long until
murmurs start making the round and some of the smarter villagers decide
that it’s in their best interest to be on the other side of the village.

Pursing my lips, I try to count the people in our vicinity and realize that
Ascathon was just about to murder fifty or seventy men and women for no
other reason than that they could have overheard something that may or
may not be inconvenient for Willow and me.

“Whatever...” Ascathon lowers his hand. “Just say that you and your
apprentice are wandering wizards who are drifting around after your
settlement was destroyed. Tell them some sob-story that you were caught
up in a mana storm and changed by the wild magic inside it. I am sure
that’s believable enough.”

“You still haven’t explained why you chose exactly this godforsaken
place,” Willow returns Ascathon to the issue at hand.

“Well.” He spreads his hands. “As you say, this place is indeed
godforsaken. This world is close to one of the dead zones and the fabric of
time and space isn’t stable. Hence, the mana storms. It’s no guarantee that
you won’t be found by the Council, but it’s all I can do.”

Willow sighs. “Okay. We will try to make the best of it. Just make sure to
get us home as soon as possible.”

Ascathon nods and, surprisingly enough, hugs Willow, then pats me on the
head. “Take care of yourselves.” Then, with a flash of light and sparks, he
is gone.

For a long moment, Willow just stares at the spot where he has been.
“That’s certainly a new one. Something must be really worrying him if he
gives me a hug!”
Furrowing my forehead, I look up to her. “Aren’t you two close? I mean,
you are doing the deed.” It's hard not to overhear them, as loud as Willow
is. “Isn’t a hug the least you could expect from him? And aren’t you
worried about him being alone with all those beautiful succubi and
Ashley?” One might think that Willow is at least worried about her
position.

The elemental suddenly starts laughing at me. “Oh, dear. You are just too
innocent. Precious!” She ruffles my hair. “We may pleasure each other
when we feel the need, but we are more like friends with benefits. The
same goes for Ashley and all her daughters. Strictly spoken, I am still his
servant. If I had those kinds of feelings for him, I would be a very pitiful
woman. Or anyone else for that matter. I think the only kind of woman
who would be able to get into that kind of relationship with him would
have to actively pursue him and fight for him to acknowledge her as an
equal. I would never do that, nor would any succubus.”

Our private exchange is interrupted when the crowd parts like a sea,
making way for an elderly man in yellow and golden clothes with a red
overcoat. In his hand is something that hovers on the edge between a
ceremonial scepter and a staff with a shining crystal at the tip, spreading a
gentle, green light.

For his apparent age, the man moves with incredible speed and agility,
taking long strides as he approaches us, pointing the staff at Willow and
me. “Who are you!? What are you doing here?”

Willow raises both hands while I take a step back, hiding behind her, the
numbers telling me that I don’t want to be in the old man’s path should
Willow and he come to blows.

The elemental’s power level is rated at eleven, while the old man is on a
nine. For short, now equipped with the knowledge what logarithmic
means, I can tell that either of the two would see me as nothing more than
a toddler or a fly. On the other hand, Willow should be able to deal with
him easily enough should he prove hostile.
Willow smiles, trying to sound cheerful. “Hello, there! My name is
Willow and this is my apprentice, Karin.” She gestures at me. “To be
honest, we don’t know what we are doing here ourselves.” She bows to the
elderly man, without doubt flashing him an ample amount of cleavage
thanks to her low neckline.

Clearly relying on centuries of experience, she starts spinning her tale.

“Our benefactor, Ascathon, is the ruler over a large settlement named
Illian. Last night, we were attacked by a powerful beast, the likes of which
we have never seen. It mowed down the outer walls like grass and killed
most of the peasants before our benefactor barely managed to repel it. The
settlement was destroyed by the magic he had to unleash in order to drive
the monster away.

“Ascathon wasn’t sure if he would be able to defend us, should the beast
come back. So he teleported us as far as he could several times and set us
down here, the first large settlement he could find. To be honest, I don’t
even know how far or in which direction he teleported us. Master wields
powerful magic and is quite proficient at teleportation, but he is kind of a
dundlehead when it comes to informing his subordinates about his plans.
He could have taken us across half the continent.

“I assume that he intends to dig through the ruins in order to search for
survivors and to get back some of his belongings. I expect him to be back
in a few days, a few weeks at most if he decides to unearth his own
quarters. Like I said, the beast pretty much destroyed the settlement. It
would be nice of you if we could petition for asylum until he returns to get
us back.”

Furrowing his forehead, the old man points at us with his stick. “You don’t
look like humans.”

“We were caught in a mana storm a few years ago. We survived, but the
wild magic changed us.” She puts on the amulet and transforms into a
human looking version of herself with tanned skin and average, brown
hair, then she nudges me to do the same. “It’s kind of a sore point for us
since people tend to treat you differently if you don’t look like them.”
“Hmm,” the old man narrows his eyes, clearly undecided on what to do.
“That’s quite the tale, and I find it suspicious that this Ascathon didn’t
even take the time to greet me, the owner of this place.”

Willow bows again. “Like I said. The attack wasn’t that long ago. Alone,
he was confident in his ability to evade the monster and he might still find
some survivors.”

He reaches up and strokes his beard, lowering the staff. “I can remember a
similar case of when one of the guards on the wall was caught outside
during a storm. Though he was less lucky and his mind was warped
alongside his body. We had to put him down.”

“I can assure you that we won’t go on a crazed killing spree,” Willow

reaffirms. “It’s been three years since the incident and nobody had reason
to complain. Should you allow us to stay, we can be quite useful in the
defence of this settlement. I promise that we will pull our weight.”

“I am Belarius, the owner and founder of this town.” The old fellow
grumbles and I let out a sigh of relief when he gestures for us to follow
him. “Let’s first find you some quarters. And then we can assess your
skills to find you something to do that earns your keep. I am certainly not
the person to turn away a pair of powerful wizards who can fight the beasts
outside the walls.”
 Chapter 19

The World
Seria
“He is going too fast! Can't he see that this world isn't prepared for those
kinds of changes? Swallowing up countries left and right just leads to
poverty! And worse, it forces me to do the same!” Myrm fumes, stalking
back and forth in her office on the uppermost floor of her main-temple.
The room is simple, with a table and two chairs. The lack of documents or
other equipment is enough for me to guess that the room is a front. It’s
simply a place for Myrm to meet her mortal minions in a somewhat
private setting.

Throwing the report onto her desk, she starts a tirade and just for a
moment, I feel like a scolded child, even though the curses aren't directed
at me. Her agitated voice calls up almost forgotten memories, making me
nostalgic. It's just like back then.

Sighing fondly at the memories of my past, I reach out and take the folder
with the report, then I slowly skim through the pages.

It's clear that Ascathon took control of a certain King Luxley's kingdom
and taught him necromancy. The mortal ruler took to Ascathon's teachings
like a fish to water and is now assimilating one little country after the
other into what he is calling the Coalition. I chuckle at the pretty name
which suggests that the members of this Coalition have some sort of say in
how they are governed, which surely isn’t the case.
After the Mirai Empire fell apart, the world was left in political unrest as
little lords and other power hungry characters carved their own kingdoms
and city-states out of the remains of a formerly great country.

I myself was a little flummoxed at how quickly everything fell apart after
Nova Mirai announced that she would no longer look over the shoulders of
those who managed the world government which she created on top of the
corpses of millions. A few decades were enough for various rebellious
groups to bring the government to its knees, showing that everything that
held the country together was the fear of getting Nova’s attention.

Now, the Coalition is slowly assimilating the little political organisations

which managed to reform after the descent, but never managed to rise
back to the former glory of the Mirai Empire.

I shrug when I realize that Myrm is looking at me, expecting an answer.

“He has no love lost for those who would rather war against each other
than to serve a common goal. I think he would be perfectly fine with the
sacrifices that would have to be made in order to return the world to its
former glory. Ascathon was never a person who is concerned with the
short-term drawbacks of certain actions. In his eyes, bringing down a bad
system quickly and replacing it is better than to leave it running. Even if
doing so takes a few lives. It’s the same reasoning which led to the
creation of the Mirai Empire.”

“Glory? I have read the historic reports!” Myrm spits out. “The Mirai
Empire was a tyranny.”

Sighing, I lean back. “Don't just believe the historical reports of mortals.
They were written by those who reached for power, the very same people
who were responsible for the world government falling apart. Of course,
they would never allow someone to write down that they were the
terrorists who killed government officials and bribed representatives to
enact stupid laws. That all they wanted was more power than their fellow
citizens.”
I shrug, trying to remember that time. “Of course, the Mirai Empire wasn't
a nice place, but overall it was better than what was before it. Thanks to
this planet being right on a nexus point in the river of souls, there are too
many powerful individuals with strong souls in this world, about ten times
as many as normal. Where a world normally has only one or two
immortals at a time, there are several on this world, with a new one born
every few centuries. And immortals are by definition people who seek
power.

“Nova was just a little more devious and powerful than all her
predecessors. She killed those who opposed her and brought down the
governments they used to govern their puppet states. Then, over centuries,
she continued to eliminate anyone who challenged the status quo she
enacted. In a way, this World should celebrate her as a hero who brought
the small people a thousand years of peace.”

Smiling, I shrug off Myrm's sour expression. “I can see that you don't
share my opinion. Maybe you are partly right. Ascathon could have done a
better job, but he isn't a real leader. He doesn't truly understand why some
people would do things which he considers stupid. He is as much
inconsiderate as you are too considerate.

“There is no such thing as the perfect way to govern people. No matter

what you do, there will always be some who are unhappy with the ideals
your government embodies. There will always be those who threaten your
rule and who you can’t ignore. Any government I ever knew of had to fight
its version of dissidents and destructive elements.”

Myrm takes a deep breath and lets the air out through her nose. “You have
a point.” But then her resolve hardens. “Which doesn’t mean that I have to
accept what the asshole plans for this world!”

And there she goes again.

I role my eyes while Myrm starts a rant in an attempt to convince me that

Ascathon is in the wrong. But I know her well enough to know that her
actions at this point are solely born from her own stubbornness. She
somehow fell into the mindset of seeing everything as black and white,
and Ascathon ended up being marked down as “the enemy”.

Raising my hand, I stop her from continuing. “I accept your opinion as

yours, but please stop your attempts to recruit me into your ‘pantheon’.” I
ignore her displeased expression. “I have no desire to be drawn into this
petty conflict.”

“It’s not petty,” she replies, sounding like a teenager who was caught
playing with children’s toys. “The Council gave us this task. We are in
charge of this world and I won’t shy away from my responsibility!”

I snort. Oh, how I wish that I could inform her of the whole truth of what’s
going on. But my plans have already developed too far. Even if it means
losing her, I can’t risk telling her anything. Not at this point in time at
least. Her current personality is simply too driven. I am afraid that she
would run straight to Tjenemit out of some kind of misguided sense of
duty. “From my point of view, it is. So, please, don’t involve me in this
competition of yours. My concern lies with the disappearances among our
own ranks, and I am afraid that if you stir our little sandbox too loudly,
you may draw uninvited attention.”

It’s not like I haven’t dropped plenty of hints like that, but Myrm seems to
be blind when it comes to the Council who she regards as our superiors. I
really should have considered that point of her character when I guided her
back to divinity. And now it’s too late to change anything about that.

“Please, Myrm? Do it for me, as a friend. Don’t ask me any longer to get
involved. I don’t want to stand between Ascathon and you when the
hammer inevitably falls.” I imagine that to be a very unhealthy position.

Aside from that, I have my hands full with my own recruitment project.
There are already too many people depending on me. “So, aside from
building this ideal country of yours, how is it going?”

She slumps, finally giving up on her attempts to persuade me. “Fine. Stay
out of it. It isn’t as if I need you for this.”
“Just don’t forget that there are just a few weeks left until Tjenemit’s
ultimatum runs out. From that point forward, you won’t be allowed to
actively intervene in the world’s fate,” I remind her.

Myrm huffs. “Yeah, what’s the point of that? Does it really make a
difference whether I enact the changes I envision myself, or if I tell some
mortal to do it in my stead.”

I purse my lips, trying to think of an answer for Tjenemit’s reasoning. “I

guess that he doesn’t really want us to mess with the world. May I remind
you that his primary goal is to find candidates for godhood? Immortals,
who are so close to their own ascendancy that they might manage it
without the help of the Council? Not allowing us active intervention is
surely just another attempt from keeping us out of each other’s hair.”

Now it’s her turn to snort in dismay. “The Church of Light won’t fail, I’ve
made sure of that by giving my believers very detailed instructions. I have
faith in them.”

“Good for you. In the end, I can’t do anything else but wish you the best.”

I end up having some more or less meaningless conversation with Myrm

and we end up parting with the promise to meet again when the time
allows it. After having said my goodbyes, I retreat to my office in the
Crystal City.

Thanks to the pathways I appear right inside the small but comfortable
room which doubles as my home. Living room and workspace in one, my
office provides anything I would ever need when I want some time for
myself. When I want to take a bath, I simply visit a beautiful grotto I know
of. It’s in another dimension, but thanks to the pathways I am just a
thought away.

Honestly, I find it hard to understand that some gods are arranging their
living space as a mortal would. There is no real need to have all the rooms
you are using connected to each other. My living room is located in the
Crystal City, while my bath is on a world in another dimension, as are the
places where I usually sleep. Then there are my secret hideouts, though I
probably shouldn’t count them to my living arrangements?

Maybe it’s because the other gods are still clinging to some part of their
mortality? They want something that reminds them of the time when they
were bound to a world and had to live with their limited abilities of
translocation.

Thanks to the confined space of my quarters it doesn’t take long for me to

notice the envelope on top of my desk, a message from Tjenemit. There is
also a signature stone which is supposed to make it easier for me to track
down my prey. It’s another mission, delivered in the usual manner.

“And there we have a valid argument why I shouldn’t have any living
arrangements in the Crystal City.” I scoop up the document and wince
when I realize that it’s an order to catch someone and to deliver them
directly to the Council.

Removing the cover page, I purse my lips when I realize that it’s
Alexandria who managed to get onto the Council’s shit-list. “Just how the
hell did she manage that?” Wasn’t the nice earth elemental good for
several thousand years, flying perfectly beneath their radar? She isn’t as
old as me, but she should know better than to draw the Council’s ire.

Not to mention that she is a total shut-in, caring only about her library and
her books. What could she have done to justify a manhunt?

Sucking in a deep breath, I begin to read the sparse information the

document provides. Apparently, she looked into some documents which
raised a few flags within the Council’s spook-squad, a group of deities who
are busy with informational warfare and propaganda.

Normally, the Council would avoid giving me any compromising

information which I could use against them, but I managed to convince
them that my tracking talents aren’t perfect and that I would need at least
some information on my target in order to do my job correctly. They still
think that my skill has something to do with a special form of divination.
Covering my mouth with one hand, I breathe slowly and deliberately,
trying to keep myself under control as I read the report. Apparently,
Alexandria tried to gather more knowledge on World Enchantments, and
that didn’t sit well with someone on the Council. They sent a squad to take
her in but didn’t take into account that her library is a magical construct of
considerable strength. Apparently, she included a function which enables
her to forcefully expel any intruders into her library.

According to this report, she evicted the guards and used the chance to
escape. If that’s true, then she resisted the Council’s authority, which
means that her life is forfeit. At best, she can expect a public memory
deletion. At worst, they will have her vanish like so many others.

Just what was she thinking when she looked into a restricted topic? And
furthermore, who would have ratted her out? Alexandria is a well-known
dealer of knowledge. She wouldn’t have shared her research with just
anyone and she isn’t stupid. Living for a few thousand years under the
Council’s rule means that you at least know how to keep yourself out of
trouble.

Which means that she trusted the person from whom she requested that
additional information. And that makes it very likely that I also know the
person. Several people come to mind, but without further details, it will be
hard to narrow it down.

Pressing my lips together, I try to imagine how things must have gone
down according to this report. Alexandria wouldn’t just mindlessly resist
the guards unless she had reason to believe that her fate was a foregone
conclusion in their eyes. So that means that this report isn’t telling me
everything.

Figures.

At least it’s enough to read a little between the lines.

With a somewhat heavy heart, I fold the report and channel energy through
the paper, ageing it until it crumbles into dust.
Then I take the signature stone which should hold an impression of
Alexandria’s mana signature, most likely taken from her library.

Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the energy within the artefact which

acts like a fingerprint for the owner. The report also contained some
dimensional coordinates which should point roughly into the direction of
Alexandria’s whereabouts. I never found out how the Council manages to
acquire those coordinates, but I have a feeling that it has something to do
with the strange sphere in that secret facility.

When I don’t catch Alexandria’s signature immediately, I decide to sit

down in the comfortable chair at my desk. It makes long office hours
possible. Normally, I turn almost mad after just a few minutes of
paperwork, but the large and most importantly, soft leather chair is the
light inside the darkness of administrative reports for those in charge.

Normally, I play the good little hunting dog for the Council, delivering
them those who they blacklisted for one or the other reason. Mostly, those
who make it onto their shit-list are other dubious characters who I
wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

But every once in a while there is a person who I determine worthy enough
to risk my own skin for. Alexandria is one such person who I wouldn’t
hesitate to save. Yes, she is an egocentric bitch at times, but as far as gods
go she is one of the better ones. Everyone who ascends the stairs to almost
infinite power has one or the other flaw of character. It’s somewhat
unavoidable. A price that has been paid in pursuit of power.

Then, suddenly, it feels like I finally found her track. One of the pathways
lights up in my mind’s eye, creating a blazing trail of energy which leaves
the Crystal City.

Grunting, I follow the web of pathways that mark Alexandria’s path,

taking shortcuts others are unable to take, zipping right through dead
zones as if they were totally normal zones of space.

The dead zones are areas within the multiverse which seemingly lack the
pathways. They are one of the few things sane gods fear. To be caught in a
dead zone means to be restricted to the physical laws of the multiverse.
Some dead zones are so large that it would take millions of years to cross
them by conventional means. Accidentally being caught inside one is
feared even by gods, so most stay well away from these areas.

Only the desperate come even close to the dead zones, hoping to shake off
pursuit.

Not so me. Forced by fate, I had to learn the hard way what it means to be
caught inside one. For an eternity I endured the silence of loneliness…
until, finally… I accidentally found something out. A trick which allows
me to travel through these areas. I chuckle at the thought of how easy the
solution was.

Of course, I never shared this useful knowledge with anyone. A girl needs
her secrets. And now I am taking these shortcuts intentionally to throw off
the Council’s pursuit. Whatever method they use to track down people,
passing through a dead zone creates problems for them. It often gives me
at least a few minutes before they catch onto my whereabouts. Minutes
which I can use to speak to my targets.

When I emerge at last at the end of Alexandria’s wild escape, I find myself
on an empty moon. Instinctively, I fully release my aura, flooding my
body with pure mana, protecting myself against the thin atmosphere.

Alexandria jumps up from where she was sitting on a stone, apparently

resting after her escape. With a flash of light, she is gone, and I
instinctively piggy-back on the pathway she took, emerging with her on
yet another world inside a green jungle. The game continues four more
times with us appearing in wildly different settings until she finally
realizes that there is no escape.

We land in a sand desert with dunes gently rising and falling around us. A
huge sun is mercilessly burning down on this unfriendly world. Facing me,
the earth elemental glares at me with all the animosity and distrust of a
hunted animal. The sun and the heat don’t seem to bother her as her brown
hair waves gently in the hot breeze which is coming from our left. High in
the sky is a violet moon, making the whole scene seem like a beautiful
painting.

“They sent you, right!? Everyone knows that you are their hunting dog. I’ll
not give myself up, especially not after finding out what they are trying to
do with their World Enchantment! I’ll see to it that everyone finds out!”

Furrowing my forehead, I get a feeling that something important is

happening here, but I don’t know what exactly.

“Alexandria, please listen now very carefully. We don’t have much time,
so here is how this is going to happen. You have no chance of escaping me
or the Council. If not I, then they will get you sooner or later.”

I am simply better at this game and I have been playing it for millennia.
The Council’s method will find her too sooner or later, but they are still
using my service because it's much quicker in bringing results.

“And yes, forced by circumstances, I play the hunter for the Council, but
that doesn’t mean that I am on their side.” Taking a step closer, I make
sure that we have eye-contact and that she listens to me. “The Council is
most likely right on my heels, so if you have some vital information for
me, you have to talk quickly. They usually show up a few minutes after I
find the target. But I can save you if you let me and if you promise to help
me when I call upon you. My method isn’t perfect. You will be different
when it’s over. But you will be alive, which is very likely better than what
the Council has in mind for you.”

Her haunted eyes make it clear that she doesn’t believe me. “Hahahaha!
Do you really think I would believe that bullshit? That you are the one
responsible for the disappearances?”

I smile wryly. “There are certainly two different causes for the
disappearances. One is me, the other… I don’t know. Most likely the
Council. I disappear those who I deem worthy and who agree to my deal.
Not everyone gets this chance, Alexandria.”
She steps back and I lower my hand, disappointed. “We have no more
time, girl. They could be here any moment, and since I have extended this
offer to you, you could incriminate me. If you don’t take the offer, I have
to silence you. So decide now.”

“You really think that you can silence me just like that!?” She huffs,
feeling challenged.

Why do they always have to waste time? Raising my hand, I let go of my

carefully restrained aura and point a finger at her. Then I raise it slightly,
targeting the moon and channelling all my energy into that point in space.

The planetary body winks out of existence as if it had never been.

Her lips start quivering as she realizes that I wield almost as much power
as a Council member, maybe more. That I could have punched a hole into
reality and erased her as easily as the moon, maybe even her soul. “What
do I have to do?”

I didn’t always have that much power, but after gathering people who
would join my cause for millennia, I’ve learned to access at least some of
their powers.

“I take it that means that you agree to the deal.” Stepping towards her, I
raise my hand. “Lower your defences completely. I have to take your soul
and hide it before they arrive.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Alexandria tries to reign in her power but

fails. Releasing one's aura is an instinctive protective process for a god
and it’s hard to fight against one’s own instincts.

“It’s not working. I can’t do it. Listen, they are trying to use the World
Enchantment to control us all. Ascathon’s research made me think, and I
wondered why they would need the amulets to connect people to the
enchantment. Normally, the amulets wouldn’t be necessary. They try to
control us, like with slave collars! They just haven’t gotten it right because
a god’s aura still overpowers the amulet. If they find a way to make this
work, then they aren’t just dictators anymore. It will be over for all of us.”
Blinking rapidly, I try to make sense of her words, but there is just no
time. Slowly, I raise my hand and place it on her shoulder. “Breath in, and
breath out. Relax your aura. I will take care of things and ensure that their
project fails.”

Once more she tries to reign in her aura, and this time I strike when her
barriers fall, plunging my hand right into her chest.

Sucking in a sharp gasp, Alexandria flails at me in panic, but I take her

into a headlock and hold her still while I gather her energies within my
palm. Slowly she weakens until, finally, she stills completely. When the
process is done, I drop her body, retrieving a marble of glowing power
from within her.

Not a second too early, I close my fingers around the crystallized soul and
absorb it into myself, just as Tjenemit appears in front of me.

Raising an eyebrow, he studies the body at my feet and then my bloody

hand. “I see that you found her, but if I remember correctly, you were
supposed to bring her in alive.” His eyes stay stuck to the body on the
ground, her blood quickly seeping away in the sandy surface.

I quickly bow deeply, playing the remorseful servant. “I am sorry, but she
attacked me like a mad animal and I just reacted. In the heat of the
moment, I didn’t consider that she might not be a strong fighter. It was
over before I knew what happened.”

“Hah...” Tjenemit scratches his chin. “Too bad. I guess we will have to
wait until she reincarnates to find out what she learned… or I could talk to
Ascathon and have him search her soul.” Stepping closer, he uses a foot to
nudge her body onto her back. “Too bad. That was a nice body.”

Looking at me, he narrows his eyes. “Did she say something to you?”

I shake my head. “Nothing meaningful. She just rambled on and on that I

wouldn’t get her. Most of them do.”
He nods, massaging his chin. “Just see to it that you don’t fuck up the next
time. Well, I guess we can catch her easily enough when she reincarnates
and makes herself known. The most important thing is that she is
silenced.” Turning, he leaves in a flash of light.

Left alone with the body I consider my next steps.

 Chapter 20

The Crystal City

Ascathon
Heading down the central plaza I notice something strange when I pass in
front of the Crystal's City's administration complex. Namely that people
are giving the guards in front of the large building a wide berth. It’s
normal to hold a respectful distance, but today it seems like something is
up. Trying my best to ignore the vibrant market all around me and the
strangeness of the scene, I continue onwards.

Though today doesn’t seem as oppressively busy as on other days, there is

still an annoying amount of people on the streets, enough that I can tell
right away that something is wrong in Crystal City and that it probably has
something to do with the Council, judging by the way the people act
towards those who are supposed to hold up the law.

But who am I kidding? It’s always the Council if something is going on.

When I took a pathway to the Crystal City I expected to appear right inside
a crowd, but there was none.

The place is still active, but what is normally a tightly packed crowd,
slowly flowing like a river from one destination to another, is now a
trickle. Where it was earlier impossible to move without bumping into
other people, it's now easy to navigate with only slight course corrections.
I am only occasionally forced to violate the private sphere of somebody.

It's certainly not as if I would complain about this development, but I can't
help it. It feels like something is off. It’s infuriating. I originally planned
to provoke a fight in order to let off some steam. Things aren’t going well
at home and the incident with Eris has had me worried for days.

Seria and the two idiot brothers also haven’t shown themselves and are
hiding instead. One would think that they would have the manners to
present themselves and explain what they were doing in that facility. After
all, I leaned pretty far out of the window to cover for them. Tjenemit isn’t
happy with me as it is, and playing the idiot in a situation like that is a
pretty sure sign that I am not entirely on his side.

It was like waving a shield around with the words ‘I do what I have to, but
the first chance I get I am out.’

Add to that the fact that things aren't going well with my religion. There
are just too many idiots who are focused on this supposed *evil* they
think I should represent. I am having a hard time to drill it into their heads
that I am not keen on blood rituals and sacrificing maidens. Somehow the
mortals seem to think that I am an evil deity who helps evil people when I
am the complete opposite!

The only chance to change that is to show that I am an evil deity who
punishes evil, but so far that didn’t work out so well.

“Hm...” I grumble as a thought strikes me. Maybe I should leave more

witnesses alive to spread the word. Up until now, I may have been a little
too thorough with punishing everyone in sight.

I purse my lips as I try to think of other solutions to my problem.

Well... maybe I could allow them to sacrifice a few fair maidens to me. Of
course, only if they are beautiful and in one piece. I would take them on a
nice date in some fancy restaurant on another world, have them show me
their affection, and then they can go back wherever they came from. That
would be better than having to stomp through their intestines.

And those cultists seem to be like a disease. In the last few days, I was
summoned to several different attempts at using me for their purposes.
One might think that they got the message after the first three attempts
ended in massacres.

My silent musings are interrupted when I reach Alexandria's library and

am barred by a large crowd of people who decided to block the entrance.
“Just my luck,” I grumble with my expression darkening.

But then my mood lightens a little when I realize that this is a chance.
Unwilling to wait, I shove one of the cocksuckers aside. “Don't just stand
around and block the path, waste of space!”

The man stumbles as I try to push past him, but he doesn't fall. It’s a huge
guy, at least a head taller than me. Dark skinned and with ridges on his
cheeks, he manages to look menacing without the slightest bit of effort.
Playing along with my ploy, he turns around and immediately tries to
defend his previous position. “Hey!”

Instead of dealing with the oversized shit in a more honourable manner, I

knee him in the groin and place my palm on top of his head as he bends
forward. Pushing down, I accelerate his rapid descend as he collapses like
a folding chair. His head cracks nicely onto the pavement, bouncing thrice
with a satisfying, wet 'smack'.

He is out like a light.

The sound of his head on the pavement immediately lightens my bad

mood and I hum in appreciation as the crowd hurries to split in front of me
like a sea, acknowledging my superiority as at least some of them
recognize who I am.

Stepping over my unconscious 'mood-toy', I approach the entrance to

Alexandria's library. I would have gone straight inside, if it weren't for the
sign on the door which reads 'CLOSED' in big, red letters.

Huffing, I turn around, glaring at the closest man, a beastkin with grey
ears. “Do you know what's that about? Alexandria never closes her
library.” It’s preposterous. Lexi didn’t take a vacation in centuries. To be
more accurate, I don’t remember her ever taking a vacation. She lives
inside and for her library.

Clearly intimidated, the beastkin shrugs and replies with a lisping voice,
“We don't know and are as clueless as you. The library is closed since five
days ago and nobody saw Alexandria in that entire time. The Council
officially locked the place down. According to them, it's for further
investigation. They didn’t even inform those who had dealings with the
librarian when we can expect her back.”

I stop breathing for a moment. Alexandria not in her library? She is always
in her library. That's like a constant of the multiverse. Like gravity or the
speed of light. Alexandria not taking care of her books is like the sky
opening up and swallowing existence as a whole.

“Is it another case of disappearance?” I ask nobody specific, but the crowd
in general.

Their silence is everything I need as an answer. Nobody who lives in the

Crystal City would be stupid enough to accuse the Council of anything,
even if only by hinting at it by declaring that the Council is involved in the
missing cases. It’s an unspoken rule.

Turning around, I start walking and make sure to step onto the
unconscious mood-toy who was unlucky enough to get in my way. If this is
a normal disappearance scenario then it's useless to search for clues inside
the library. Given that the Council shut the place down, they surely also
professionally cleaned it out.

The thought strikes me that it may be time to pay Seria a visit and ask her
what the stunt in the Council's facility was about. Having made my
decision, I head directly back to the administration complex in the centre
of the Crystal City.

Not paying the guards much attention, I head straight for the building with
the offices and Studio 7, hoping to find at least one of the three hoodlums
there. Up until now, I didn’t actively search for them, but that is at an end.
Upon entering the room which is shaped like an auditorium I immediately
notice that the ones I am searching for aren’t present. No matter.

Focusing on Zenial, a pale woman with white hair, I walk closer until she
and her four female friends notice me. She is called a goddess of the
moon. That alone doesn’t have much meaning, but as with myself, most
gods represent several different aspects of power. Sometimes it’s just
easier to go with an ancient symbol instead of giving a complicated and
lengthy explanation of their character traits every time you meet someone.

As such, the moon embodies femininity and the rhythm of time as it

cycles through its different phases. The phases of the moon symbolize
immortality and eternity, enlightenment or the dark side of nature itself. It
might also reflect inner knowledge or balance, as it is the middle ground
between the light of the sun and the darkness of night. In some cases, it
represents the realm between the unconscious and conscious.

I am sure that Zenial doesn’t have full command of all of these aspects,
but she would surely never willingly give me a full spec-sheet of her skill-
set. Using a pseudonym like the moon is a middle-ground between politely
allowing others some insight into your own nature, while at the same time
being vague enough to give nothing of value away.

She turns to me when it becomes clear that I want something, while the
entourage of the four women around her quiets down. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. I have seen you associate with Nazareth. Have you seen him lately?
Or Marigold or Seria, any of those three. I need to talk to them.”

Zenial studies me with a doubtful expression, then she looks at her

associates as if to confirm that they have her back should things go south.

Impatient, I press on and smile. “Look. I promise not to hurt your friends,
but I have dealings with them. No idea why all of you are so afraid of me.
Most of the time I am a very reasonable and friendly guy.”

“Most of the time...” Zenial purses her lips while her entourage starts
whispering.
“What of the time when he tore the soul out of a minor deity who offended
him? In public!”

“Yes, the guards had to force him to give it back!”

“Or when he blew up Seria’s island resort when she hosted that party...”

“I still remember that. I was forced to reincarnate!”

“I heard that he just earlier beat someone up for no reason at all. Maybe
we should just tell him?”

I raise both hands to stop them. “Okay. You are right that I made a name
for myself over the centuries, but in every case, the other party gave me a
good reason for my actions. Why don’t we hurry this along and you just
tell me.”

Zenial tilts her head sideways, considering the potential ramifications of

her possibilities. “I don’t know for sure where they are. I have seen
Nazareth just yesterday, but he was only here for a few minutes, saying
that he would bury himself in work for the foreseeable future and that we
shouldn’t worry about him or his brother. Apparently, Marigold is
currently doing something similar. As for Seria, I haven’t seen her, but
when she wants to be alone she often takes a pathway to the plane of
Kurth, where she allows herself to drift among the currents.”

“Hm.” I massage my chin, considering whether I should believe such a

vague description. “Where exactly is this plane of Kurth? I’ve never been
there.”

She blinks, then searches the floor with her eyes. I do the same,
concentrating on my ability to see pathways. Finally, she gently touches
one of the pathways with her energy but doesn’t actually take it.

“That one. It should bring you pretty close if you take the forty-second,
then the fifth and then the nine-hundred eleventh node. If she is there, you
should be able to sense her.”
I thank her and take the indicated pathway, instinctively following the
instructions she gave me. Giving something like coordinates within the
multiverse is a pretty useless endeavour, so we gods prefer to orientate
ourselves according to the pathways and their intersecting network of
connections which we call nodes.

It’s far easier than to tell someone that he has to get to a certain plane of
existence, then somehow reach galaxy X and search for star system Y, then
find a special landmark on planet Z. The pathways already provide a
system that’s akin to an underground railway which allows you to ignore
the actual distance between places.

When giving locations, we just have to tell the other side at which station,
or in our case which node, we should hop off the train. It’s also convenient
that for some reason everyone who ascends to godhood has an instinctive
grasp on how to navigate the pathways. Before I ascended I would have
never imagined that it would be that easy to travel between dimensions
and worlds, sometimes following a network of pathways that would look
like an impossible labyrinth of neurons to my previous self. Now I simply
know where to go.

I emerge weightless in an endless sky.

Pressing my lips together, I focus on overcoming the disorientation of

weightlessness. Scanning my surroundings, I realize that this must be a
plane of existence where for one reason or the other, the amount of heavy
elements was never sufficient to form stars and planets. It’s an entire
dimension of endless air and clouds.

Though, there must be some form of thermal exchange at work in this

place. Otherwise, the water would freeze as everything cools down. Or
planetary bodies of water would have to form. And maybe they do? The
sky is blue, so that means that there is some form of background radiation.
Maybe there are stars formed from water and I just can’t see them because
of the distance?

At last, I finally stop myself from speculating about the exact nature of
this strange dimension. If I still want to know later on, I can come back
with some equipment and take some measurements instead of taking wild
guesses.

Stretching out my senses, I search for the signs of another powerful being,
finding it almost immediately, so I take a pathway and appear right next to
my target.

“Aieeee!” Squealing, she throws an orange juice in a takeaway bottle at

me. It splatters on my chest, since I am too concerned with taking a peek
at her – almost – naked body.

She quickly covers herself with a large towel which displays a tropical
scene. “What the fuck are you doing in MY dimension?”

“I haven’t seen any signs which announce this place as your dimension. By
the way, nice sexy underwear.” I smirk and gesture at the goods which are
now covered by the towel. Then I look around, noticing several things
floating all around us. It's a cloud of sun-cream tubes, discarded fast-food,
and other goods of convenience floating everywhere. There is even
something like an ultra-widescreen setup which is playing some sort of
action movie in the distance. Suddenly I feel reminded of the room of a
rebellious teenager… if the teenager in question was very wealthy and had
a whole dimension for herself. “Shouldn’t you at least clean up the litter?”

“Who cares? If it gets too dirty, I’ll just move to the next spot. There is
enough space here to last me an eternity and there are no green activists
who can tell me what to do. It’s my dimension because I am the only one
who is coming here! What do you want?” She crosses her arms in front of
her chest and narrows her eyes. “And who told you about my relaxation
solarium?”

A solarium? I look around. If there is enough ultraviolet radiation, and

judging by the light all around us that might indeed be the case, then this
place should be perfect to get an ideal tan.

One might think that she would have problems with her trash. I wonder at
which point she decides that it’s time to move? When the vicinity starts
looking like a waste disposal site? But I can’t refute her logic. If this is
indeed a dead dimension which never developed life, then nobody should
have any reason to come here. Except if the person in question has the
wish to be alone.

“Two things.” I return my full attention to her. “I want you to tell me what
that scene in the Council’s facility was all about. I’ve been waiting for
days for you guys to show yourselves, but it’s like everyone crawled under
a rock. I know that the two of us aren’t the greatest of friends, but I would
expect at least a ‘thank you’ for saving your hide. It was centuries ago, but
if it’s still about blowing up that party of yours then-”

“It’s not about the party.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair which
slowly fans out to her left, apparently influenced by an imperceptible
airflow.

“Then what?” I ask. “The other thing I want to know about is if you heard
anything about Alexandria. I was at her library earlier and the people there
told me that she vanished and that the place was closed down by the
Council.”

Seria blinks but shows no other reaction. “I am sorry. I only know that the
Council put her on the wanted list. It seems like she looked into some
restricted knowledge concerning world enchantments and someone told
the authorities. She is still on that list, so I think that they haven’t caught
her yet.”

“Aren’t you the one who does the catching?” I look her up and down,
searching for some sign that she knows more than she is willing to admit.

“Yes, and that’s why I know about it.” She waves her hand in a circle as if
it was only natural for her to be involved in such things. “But they didn’t
put me on the case. It’s not like I am their only hunter.”

I narrow my eyes. “What knowledge is there that Lexi doesn’t already

have in her library?”

Seria shrugs. “Something must have happened that caused her to tap into
other sources.”
“And what about your presence in that facility?” I ask.

Finally, Seria shows some sign of guilt. “Espionage...”

Crossing my arms, I pull in my legs cross-legged to make myself more

comfortable while floating in a distance of about two metres in front of
her. “I have a feeling that this will be a long discussion. And I won’t go
away until I have all the answers.”
 Chapter 21

Her Dimension
Seria
“So you guys just went in there, risking your necks on an improvised spy-
mission in hope of finding something,” Ascathon pronounces the last word
very carefully to make sure that I understand his opinion of our little
excursion.

“You didn't even know what you were searching for!”

I throw up my hands. “Fine! It was stupid and risky, I admit that. But it
was the best chance that presented itself in centuries! Combined with my
knowledge about the unknown entrance, I had to take it.”

Looking at his knees in a contemplative manner he grumbles, “Brought

you a whole lot of information for the risk you took.”

“Which doesn't change the fact that it was the best chance I got in a long
time,” I reply cattily. “Those who don't play a risky game can't lose, but
when you don't play, you can't win either. And who are you to tell me what
to do? I've been around for far longer than you, and while I am thankful to
you for helping out with that thing, I probably could have dealt with it on
my own.”

Raising his eyes, he looks at me with a doubtful expression.

“The ugly thing just surprised me with its ability to ignore auras. That's
all,” I continue quickly. “I would have dealt with it. It's just that I would
have had to use something very flashy to make sure it died.”
He covers his face with both hands. “If you don't have the skills to go on a
secret mission, then don't go on a secret mission.”

I press my lips together, frustrated. It's not like I don't have the abilities,
but it's exceptionally hard to control my mana when I am constantly
occupied with hiding a few million souls within myself. Ever since I
started collecting support against the Council, I gained in power by
incorporating the abilities of other deities into my own. But at the same
time, it became much harder to wield my powers, since I have to pay
careful attention to everything I do! Had I just mindlessly struck out at the
monster in the Council's base, I probably would have obliterated it and a
sizeable part of the base with all its inhabitants. Even if I would have
gotten away afterwards, I would have had a hard time explaining myself to
the Council with my energy signature all over the place.

I am very sure that such a scenario wouldn't have gone well for me.
Tjenemit is a very lenient leader as long as he doesn't feel threatened. But
an attack on their base would have gotten other Council members
involved. Most of them aren't known for their forgiveness, especially not
El Shaddai. With them as judges, it would have meant an early... err... I
mean, late grave for me.

But it's not like I can tell Ascathon any of that without raising a lot of
questions which I don't want to answer.

All I can do is to keep my mouth shut and take the insult as it is. “Well,
that's the reason why I had Nazareth and Marigold along. It's not like I
could plan for anything without previous intelligence. As far as I am
concerned, we risked a lot, but I am still confident that it was right to take
the risk at that point. In fact, I am quite happy with the result and in the
end, everything turned out fine.”

“Okay.” He lowers his hands and looks at me. “Just what is your agenda?”

Reaching for my chest, I pull up the amulet from beneath my towel and
reveal it to Ascathon. “Probably the same as yours. I want to get rid of this
amulet and the World Enchantment that binds me to that world. Preferably
before the Council manages to perfect their experiments.”
That causes Ascathon to pay attention. “Perfect their experiments?”

“Yes.” I dangle the dandy amulet up and down to draw his attention away
from my boobs. Damn, it's just too creepy to get checked by... him. I
probably have no rational reason to think like that at the moment, but it
still doesn't feel right. I should give him a good whacking, but he already
thinks that I am a bit loony for my irrational rejection of him.

“I don't know for sure why the Council is after Alexandria, but since she
was researching World Enchantments, I have a pretty good guess.” I stop,
giving myself a few seconds to think.

It would be nice to involve Ascathon in the knowledge that Alexandria

shared with me, but I don't want him to know that I am the one who is
responsible for her demise. Just telling him would probably be a little too
obvious, and Ascathon is the kind of person who always tries to dig for
more. It's likely best to slowly steer him to the solution. There is no doubt
that he is able to rationalize the reason for the price on her head by
deductive reasoning.

“You know the reason?” His eyes narrow as he studies me carefully while
drifting with me in the air currents of this strange dimension.

“I am no expert on World Enchantments, but even I know enough to figure

this out. It's not that hard once you realize that a World Enchantment is a
self-replicating spell matrix which spreads out to every part of the aether
which has enough energy to support it,” I start out carefully.

“Hm.” He nods. “I've researched that much for myself. Though I am far
more concerned on how to erase something that replicates itself
indefinitely. Even if I set off an incredibly strong dispelling effect, I would
never be able to reach every part of the world at once. Not to mention
places which are shielded, either by arcane methods or natural effects. I've
been thinking about that for a long time. The only guaranteed solution
would be to create a second World Enchantment that counters the other.
Looking at it like a computer problem, it would be like writing an anti-
virus for a virus. The issue with that is that my skills are currently lacking.
I won't be able to come up with a counter-world enchantment on the fly.”
I shake my head. “You are already a few steps ahead of me. Maybe that's
why you missed the obvious answer. There is something which you should
have questioned first, before trying to undo the world enchantment itself.”

“I missed something?” He sits up straighter, now obviously intrigued.

“Yes.” I touch the amulet around my neck again. “The Council has
someone working on this world enchantment-”

He nods. “An idiot who is skilled enough to unleash a thing like that, but
too stupid to be able to control it. They are using us as lab-rats for an
insufficiently tested experiment.”

As if you wouldn't do the same, given a chance!

“-don't interrupt me. Where was I? Yes, the basic functions of the World
Enchantment. You know as well as I do what it does.” I point at myself. “It
should be pretty easy to make a World Enchantment recognize a few
strong mana signatures from a handful of selected people. So, here is the
question that bothers me. Why do they need the amulets?”

“To locate us.” He wets his lips, realizing that he simply spouted the
convenient answer which Tjenemit gave us when he introduced us to his
little project. “But you are right. If someone is skilled enough to play
around with a World Enchantment, then using a physical artefact to locate
someone is like utilizing an old-fashioned GPS transmitter. Hell, we
already saw that they are at least able to influence their current 'code' for
the lack of a better term. They adjusted the frequency at which we are
teleported around. Also, Tjenemit warned us not to take the amulets off.
Yet, this whole project somehow seems utterly useless if someone can
simply cheat the system by taking off the amulet and quit the game. The
Council isn't big on free thinking, so I would expect them to come up with
something crazy.”

I nod. “That's why I thought that amulet must have another purpose, and I
am afraid that it's something you won't like.” I take my amulet off,
spinning it on its chain around my finger.
Ascathon gasps and looks around, expecting Tjenemit to show up any
moment.

“He won't come. I already tested my theory. Yesterday, I took the amulet
off for several hours. I was still teleported around, despite having the
amulet off. Which means that we are still somehow tied into the World
Enchantment. The other obvious conclusion is that, since Tjenemit failed
to show up, whatever the amulet is supposed to do doesn't work. The thing
malfunctioned.”

Ascathon takes off his own amulet to study it. “I may not be an expert on
World Enchantments, but I am quite good with all sorts of artefacts. Now
that I know that the thing won't immediately call Tjenemit down on me, it
should be quite simple to find out what the thing was supposed to do.”

The World
King Luxley
“Don't worry, my king. I am sure that your army will subdue this little
lordling who thinks himself better than his peers,” Ashley purrs, looking
me up and down. “What do you think of visiting your tent afterwards? I
think we could need a little snack.”

“Ahem... yes?” I force my eyes away from priestess Ashley's chest. The
brunette's bust is awkwardly accentuated by her robes, in a manner which
is very improper for a religious leader like herself. Add to that those
velvet lips and she would fit right into one of those places where they
fulfil every man's dream! Despite my best efforts, my eyes immediately
wander back to ravish the banquet that is given so freely.

A few days ago Ascathon showed up with a whole abbey full of these
beauties. In their black and white robes they look like nuns. Beautiful,
sexy nuns who seem like a dark promise of unspeakable deeds. The dark
god instructed me that these women were to be the priestesses of his
religion and that he completely trusted their judgement in the
interpretation of his commandments.

“Your eyes should be there.” She points at the castle guiding my attention
away from her figure. “Don't forget that your undead horde is fighting for
you. Not to mention the Knights of Chaos who threw themselves right into
the thick of the battle. As their leader, the least you could do for them is to
guide our forces properly.”

“Right!” I return my focus to the castle, wishing I had something like

horse blinkers for myself. Just seeing Ashley from the corner of my eyes
draws all my attention. Ashley, the brown-skinned leader of the nuns who
announced herself and her sisters as the dark god's priestesses. Her brown
hair is like flowing silk.

Priestess my ass! She and her fellow sisters aren't just beautiful, they are
all out of this world. If I wasn't so afraid of my god, I would jump one of
them right away and make her my queen.

Focus! Your people are fighting the Church of Light out there! Everyone is
relying on you.

I return my attention to the horde of zombies and the large blood golem
which is trying to take down the main gate of Castle Greymoore, the
central point of defence for the city of Greymoore.

Three weeks ago, I was notified that several cities within the borders of
my newly acquired vassal states refused to implement the new laws which
were prescribed by my god. They kept persecuting anyone who
worshipped the dark God of Chaos. At first, I wasn't sure about what my
response should be, but when I got reports that they were burning fellow
believers at the stake, I saw no other choice but to restore order by force.

That's why we are pacifying Greymoore by force. And once that's done,
then it will be the next city, one after the other until everyone gets in line.

I watch as the defenders pour liquid fire down on my forces. While the
zombies burn in agony, the huge blood golem is unimpressed and pounds
away at the gate with the precision of a clockwork, the large boulder in its
hands denting the metal gate with every blow. On top of the fortification,
people are trying their best to dispel my army and to stop the zombies
from climbing the walls. On my side, the Knights of Chaos are doing their
best to hinder the efforts of the defenders.

I do my best in guiding my necromantic forces, instructing several groups

to climb the walls with ladders and ropes to draw the attention away from
the group at the gate. Sadly, I am still too inexperienced to revive sentient
revenants.

One of the defenders throws a barrel over the wall and I watch in dismay
as a large part of my forces is blown up in a huge explosion of blood, gore
and body parts.

In order to give the other side something to do, I instruct my second blood
golem to pick up one zombie after the other and fling them over the
defensive structure. The tactic has the expected effect as several defenders
leave the wall to deal with the undead inside their fortress.

That's when with a final mighty heave, my blood golem throws its boulder
against the gate, causing the whole thing to break off from the large,
forged hinges.

The gates now thrown open, I direct the part of my mindless zombies
which I held in reserve to flood into the castle with the Knights of Chaos
close behind them. The main part of my living army is still waiting in
safety, solely charged with my protection. My forces should be able to
overrun the enemy now that the wall is no longer a hindrance.

Taking in a deep breath, I let out a slow sigh and relax my mental hold on
my army. Ascathon showed me how to direct zombies in groups, making it
indefinitely easier to control large amounts of the mindless creatures at
the same time. But a complicated battle with many different fronts still
requires controlling several groups which still causes mental stress and
fatigue.
“Why don't we return to your tent and have you relaxed a little? Those
battles really tire you out, but you are clearly getting better with
experience.” Ashley links arms with me and guides me back to the king's
war-tent, a large, mobile abode which allows for a maximum of privacy.

“Yes, these headaches don't seem to get better though...” I rub my temple
and gesture for my guards. “See to it that I don't get interrupted if it isn't
important. I just need a little sleep.”

“That's because you strain yourself too much while commanding the
hordes,” Ashley explains. “Mental Magic isn't about shoving the orders
into your minion's brain. You have to work more subtle and play to their
instincts. The next time, try it with suggestions.”

She guides me into the tent and closes the covers behind us. Then she is
suddenly at my belt, unbuckling it.

“What... what are you doing?” I ask, fearing the answer while I look back
at the entrance, hoping that none of the guards notice anything. What if we
get found out!? This could turn into a scandal if anything gets to the
public. A king and a religious leader!? Preposterous!

One moment. Are the priests of my new religion even forbidden from
worldly pleasures? Or is it okay? I shake my head. I shouldn't risk it. What
if the god takes offense? “Ashley, we shouldn't...”

“Shh... just relax and let me get off that armour. I know the perfect method
of restoring your health.” She smiles with her luscious lips at me and gets
up as the belt comes loose. Cupping my face in her palms, she pulls me
down into a deep kiss while the rest of my armour somehow undoes itself
on its own. Walking backwards, she pulls me towards the large king-sized
four-poster bed which my servants took with us on the campaign.

The World
Ashley
I sigh contentedly and roll onto my belly, trying to concentrate on my book
while the comfortable bed gently rocks beneath me, creaking a little. “I
have to tell the servants to oil it a little before I do this again.”

The smell of sex and hormones is also a little too heavy in the air, so I
twirl a finger, casting a little hex to circulate the air out of the tent, then I
continue reading.

My hard work is interrupted a few minutes later when one of my fellow

priestesses enters the tent. Ravetta's eyes widen as she looks at the scene,
seeing something that's incomprehensible to her. “Matriarch... why are you
reading a book while the king is humping a human servant? Did you find a
technique to draw energy through a proxy? That would be revolutionary!”

I look up and close my book, then I glance at the hypnotized king and a
maid which I hand-picked for him. She is lying on her back hugging and
kissing her lover desperately while he is plunging into her with abandon.
Luckily, the bed is large enough for me to lie down and hold up the
illusionary enthrallment while they are busy.

“No, I didn't. As boring as it sounds, this is just doing my job.” I sigh, a

little annoyed at how long this is taking. “Come on, Luxley, unload that
cargo so that I can also get some fun!”

Ravetta wets her lips and reaches up to pinch her own nipple while playing
with the blonde hair of the human form she took in order not to cause any
unrest; a buxom blonde with blue eyes and the cutest dimples I have ever
seen on her. Did she really design that transformation herself? Or is she
riding the body of some hapless mortal whose looks struck her fancy?

“Mother, may I ask what exactly you are trying to do?”

I press my lips together, a little ashamed to admit my failure. “Mortals,

especially humans, are very short-lived creatures. They are extraordinarily
lucky if they manage to live a century. Even the especially magically
gifted rarely make it past the first two centuries!”
She nods, so far having no problem following me. “Yes, I know that. They
are pitifully weak and easy to break.”

“Well, our job is to ensure that King Luxley's country grows and with him
Ascathon's worshippers. But that will most likely take generations. This is
a large world and our progress isn't actually fast with the number of little
warlords and city states we have to subdue. Did you know that Luxley is
already in his forties? He has a little bit of magical talent which should
add three or four decades to his natural lifespan. That means that a fourth
of his lifespan is already gone! He has no children and no spouse. If we
aren't careful and he dies, by assassination or in battle, or even because of
a stupid accident, his line will perish and our efforts will be thrown back
decades!”

“Oooh! Now I understand! You are breeding replacements!” Ravetta claps

her hands eagerly together. “That's why you organized him a mate to
continue his line. Though, isn't a mate like her improper for the job?
Shouldn't we get him some princess? Or, I know! The Queen of a defeated
enemy! Ah, we need to find a young one in that case...”

“Bah!” I wave my hand, dismissing my daughter's idea. “He will be the

Emperor of a new Empire! Whoever he wants to take as his mistress is his.
Who would dare to object? The stupid stud just hasn't understood that
yet.”

I place a hand on my chest, trying to put some emotion into my

conviction. “Ravetta, you must never forget that we are succubi! We have
to uphold certain standards! If not for ourselves, then for our race! And
while we ultimately always bring doom and peril to our victims, we do it
through the feelings of lust and sexual pleasure. We take the feeling the
mortals call 'love' and twist it into a pretzel. How mundane would it be of
me to stick some ugly princess in a loveless marriage onto someone who
is under my charge if I can get him a woman he can truly love?”

Reaching out, I pinch the wide hips of the moaning human female who has
her legs wrapped around Luxley. “Besides, most of these nobles are just
inbred fools. I carefully selected Anna here after looking into the minds of
all of Luxley's servants. Do you see those wide hips? She will bear him a
truckload of healthy brats. Not only is she reasonably beautiful for a
human, she also has a secret crush on the king! He likewise finds her
attractive, but never made a move.”

I change my voice in a perfect imitation of Luxley for the last few words.
“Because it would be improper.”

Then I sigh in frustration. “The only problem I seem to have is that he

doesn't finish! They've been humping since three-quarters of an hour and I
have them enthralled and there were enough pheromones in the air that
even I couldn't take the smell anymore.” I sit up and gesture at the two
rutting humans. “Is he sick? I mean, I heard that some humans have
mental dysfunctions. Maybe that's why he is still single with his age, even
though he is the most powerful individual in his country. He should have
females lined up to jump into his bed! Or are his morals the problem? I
don't know. Should we get him into Ascathon's base to have his dick
checked out?”

“Ahem,” Ravetta interrupts me by clearing her throat. “I think I have a

solution to that. You have been playing with the greater demons for too
long, Mother. Maybe you should abduct a mortal from another plane from
time to time? Just to practice the basics?”

I blink, befuddled. “Could it really be that I lost my touch? But mortals

break so easily. You barely take a sip from their life-force and they are an
empty husk. So what is this method which you suggest?”

“Yeah, not everyone has first dibs on any higher demon or god who enters
our castle. Some of us have to make do with what's available.” She pulls
up the hem of her chaste robe, revealing her demon-tail from between her
legs.

I coo in appreciation, pleased with her ability to only partially shift her
body from one form to the other. Such a thing is really complicated. As a
mother, I am proud.

“Some human males are a little... handicapped... when you befuddle their
minds.” She gives the tip of her tail an appreciative lick, then expertly
plunges it into her mouth, lubricating a sizeable length. When she pulls it
back out, it comes away glistening with her saliva. Wriggling the tip
around, she grins. “It often helps to give them a little surprise-
stimulation.”

Ooh... shame on me! How could I forget about that! “Ah, it has been a few
thousand years since I tried my skills on a mortal. How could I forget that
problem!”

Ravetta suddenly stops smiling as she remembers something else. “Before

I forget, you should probably switch off the chant that vents the tent before
we proceed.”

“Why?” I ask, curious.

Ravetta draws a circle on the ground with her toe. “As a succubus who is
several thousand years old, your pheromones are a little strong, Mother.
Especially for the poor mortals. The staff and the soldiers around the tent
are... affected...”

“Affected?” I ask, fearing the worst. “How are they affected?”

“They are having an orgy. Some of the soldiers are even jumping the
zombies, it's icky. That's why I came in here. I am into all kinds of stuff,
but necrophilia is something I prefer to leave to my sisters. Susu or
Gabriella would have a field day out there.”

“Oh...” Well... that's... not good. We are on a military campaign after all!
“Why didn't you say that first!?”

I quickly dispel the hex.

 Chapter 22

The World
Ascathon
I hum as I examine the amulet, slowly turning the clamp which is holding
it beneath the detection device. Its inner workings are displayed on the
machine’s screen and I nod in appreciation when I discover a little detail
which I previously wasn’t aware of. It’s quite enlightening to get a good
look from different angles at its innards.

As soon as I returned to my laboratory, I used every non-destructive

method I could think of to get to the bottom of the artefact's mystery. As
long as the used method left the amulet without visible signs of
manipulation, I was fine with applying it.

It's not like I want to warn the Council of my ongoing investigation by

carrying around the pieces of a minced amulet. I am sure that would come
back to bite me at some point. At the latest when Tjenemit decides that it’s
time for another round of testing.

Before I knew that it is indeed possible to take the amulet off, I was
reluctant to attempt some of the obvious methods of studying its innards.
Having my head right next to a radioactive source or inside a strong
electromagnetic field could have seriously ruined my day. There are better
ways to proceed to the next reincarnation.

Currently, I am using some acoustic sensors which were originally

intended to detect weak points in metals. But with a little ingenuity and a
very strong frequency generator, the sensors are perfect to map the
internal structure of the amulet. The downside is the noise, so it’s
necessary to encase the entire equipment inside a soundproof case.

The creator of the amulet layered several different metals and used a form
of transfiguration magic to weld them seamlessly inside a protective
coating, making it seem like the amulet is one solid piece. Which it isn’t.
Its innards are actually a quite complicated mesh of circuitry, the magical
kind.

It's a common method used by enchanters. Instead of creating one big and
complicated enchantment, they can enchant several different objects and
fuse the spells afterwards.

Acoustic mapping is a perfect method to analyse such pieces. The shock of

the soundwaves travels at different speeds through different materials and
those inconsistencies can be measured with the right equipment. A
computer program interprets the received signal and the end result is a
pretty detailed representation of the internal layout.

Now that I got a good look at the thing, I am relatively sure that it was
supposed to take control of its wearer. But not in the usual, obvious
manner. It was supposed to instil respect and feelings of worship for those
who are in command. It wouldn’t have turned me into an actual slave, but
long exposure is likely to change the wearer into a mindless worker bee
who is content with his fate.

I suppose the creator of this thing knew that hardcore control magic
wouldn’t work on many gods. People of that power level tend to have a
minimum amount of knowledge and skill, which makes it only natural to
assume that at least some of the test subjects would have realized that
something is up. The artefact may have been able to take control of the
wearer’s mind, but as soon as the victim became aware of the influence,
they would fight back. And there isn’t much in the multiverse that can stop
a god, except for another god.

That’s why the creator of this thing opted for more subtle mind magic.
Something that worms itself into the victim’s thoughts little by little
without them ever realizing that their behaviour is being altered. Instead
of forcing them into a certain course of action, it makes them believe that
what they are doing happens of their own accord, something indefinitely
more difficult to achieve than a simple slave collar.

It could have even worked, if it weren’t for the complicated interplay

between the amulet and the World Enchantment. Subtle mind magic needs
time to work on the subject, or it is simply shrugged off. Ideally, there
should be absolutely no interference with the enchantment. A simple spike
of energy is enough to interrupt the building web of energies which are
aimed at the victim’s feelings, slowly guiding their desires towards a
certain goal.

That’s why I prefer to place traps which rely on subtle magic in bedrooms
and offices. Only there, such spells have even a chance of properly
influencing the target. Which doesn't ensure their success. Not by a long
run. Even in a perfect environment, it takes days for any permanent effect
to take hold, depending on the strength of the target’s mind and how often
he leaves the sphere of influence of the artefact.

Another weak point of that method is that the victim has to be awake and
aware of his own magic. It wouldn’t work on a sleeping subject.

The upside, or downside, depending on which end of the equation you are,
is that once subtle mind magic has taken hold, the changes are often
permanent. People are creatures of habit and our habits are shaped by our
daily lives. Once a person has spent enough time in a certain rhythm of
behaviour, it's hard to change back. The spell isn't aimed at
reprogramming what you do at the moment, but at what you wish to do.

That's why this form of magic is so dangerous and banned.

Why am I not surprised that the Council doesn't care about their own
laws?

I am just lucky that the creator of the amulet was a talented genius, but
suffered the flaw of being a lab-rat. He perfected the details of the theory
but failed when it was time to take the big picture into account.
When you add the conditions of the World Enchantment to the amulet’s
subtle attempt at influencing the wearer, you plunge the user into an
environment that’s diametrically opposed to subtle magic. The subject gets
teleported around on a daily basis, the energies of the teleportation
through the pathways breaking the building spell of the amulet each time.
On top, the person in question ends up frequently in situations in which it’s
reasonable to discharge strong magical effects.

This was especially true during the early days of Tjenemit’s experiment. If
it hadn’t been for the malfunctioning World Enchantment, the amulet
might have worked.

I shudder at the thought. There is nothing that I hate more than being on
the receiving end of mind-altering effects.

Given how complicated the spell-matrix for any subtle mind magic is, it
was no wonder that the enchantment on the amulet deteriorated rapidly
under the stress of frequent teleportations and magically charged
environments.

Had the creator of this amulet not made such an obvious mistake, I would
have had to bow in front of him, quite literally. Luckily, this person seems
to be a genius at theoretical spellcraft but lacks the skill and experience
for the actual execution. There is a wide gap between having a working
prototype inside a laboratory and a field-tested version that's able to
withstand the stress of real-world application.

The enchantment on the amulet was worn down and malfunctioned before
it ever managed to influence me or the others.

This begs the question whether the creator of the amulet and the World
Enchantment are the same person. From what I can see here, the amulet
should have nothing to do with the World Enchantment, though I can't be a
hundred percent certain of that.

Tjenemit must have given our mana signatures to the creator of the World
Enchantment. He edited them into his spell and activated the whole thing
during our meeting with Tjenemit. Maybe the reason for their failure is
that the creator of the amulet didn’t know what Tjenemit intends to do
with them?

My thoughts start drifting off, and for a moment, I wonder how Willow
and Karin are doing, but then I shake my head and return my attention to
examining the amulet. An entire day of research is beginning to affect my
concentration.

There must be some way to get back at the creator of this thing, preferably
causing him excruciating pain in the process. Maybe a curse? It should be
possible to use the amulet as a magical beacon. At some point during its
creation, the bastard must have held it in his hands, so maybe I can find a
lingering mana signature on it.

It should be a really nasty curse. Something that discourages the Council

from proceeding with this line of research, but it should look like an
unfortunate accident at the same time. Something that flays the skin off
his flesh until agony is all he knows, then strips him open like a chest,
revealing his or her soul for all to see. And then crushing it in front of
everyone, leaving the onlookers without a doubt that they just witnessed
the final death of a sentient being.

Reaching out, I switch off the device and open the protective cover. Then I
retrieve the amulet and try to think of a way to search for the creator’s
mana signature. After the thing was in my possession for so long, it is very
unlikely that any energy of the original holder remains. Mundane
fingerprints? No, they are surely washed off. But maybe I can filter out the
traces of the lingering enchantment.

“Uuh… I know that look. You are planning a murder. That’s so turning me
on! How can I help?”

I almost drop the amulet, too surprised by the sudden appearance of the
succubus. The green-haired girl is crouching next to my work-desk and
peeking over the edge of the table.

I reach for my own heart, making sure that it’s still beating. “Isabel! You
just took a decade of my life. Don’t sneak up on me when I plan revenge.”
When did she get into my lab? Didn't I lock the door? Hell, sometimes I
have the feeling that these women have a way to go through walls.
Teleportation should be impossible inside my workspace.

“So you were planning murder and mayhem! How can I help?” She gets up
and starts hopping up and down, showing me how bored she must be. “And
don’t be a scrooge with your life-force. As a god, it’s not like you are
limited to a certain lifespan.”

“Uh, sorry, but the target of my revenge is probably some god or lesser
deity. You wouldn’t stand a chance,” I deny her, but can’t help myself
from following her bouncing chest with my eyes. The little minx is
probably doing that on purpose. Seriously, which woman with an F-size
would jump up and down like that?

“Oh.” Her expression turns dejected and I remember that she was always a
person who carried her feelings on her face.

“Sorry, but you wouldn’t stand a chance against a god.” I scratch my chin,
feeling awkward at having to reject her help. Ashley and her succubi are a
strange case. Centuries of practising their arts turned them into beings who
can rival a lesser deity in power, but for some reason, they avoided the
step that turned them into actual gods.

The normal process would be for a mortal soul to achieve the immortal
status, mostly through luck, because mortals normally aren’t aware of
their previous lives. They don’t know that they have to live as long as
possible and gather a lot of memories many lifetimes in a row for their
soul to gain strength.

Once they can actually remember their previous lives, it’s not that hard to
live longer during each reincarnation as they grow in power and
knowledge. And at some point they achieve godhood, allowing their soul a
direct connection to the aether and the pathways, essentially giving them
access to as much mana as they can wield.

This ability to wield mana is what discerns someone who is categorized as

a lesser deity from a god. A lesser deity is somewhere on the power level
where they can obliterate a small island, up to a continent. The important
part is that it would be challenging for them to do even that much damage.

Most of the gods I know of are actually lesser deities, with some of them
being definitely above that power level. The terminology is actually a
little vague among the society of gods. The only thing that’s generally
agreed upon is that everyone who can wipe out a planet without much
effort is considered to be a god.

There are rumours that even among gods, there are some who play in a
different league. Like El Shaddai, who is rumoured to have wiped out a
solar system when he had a hissy fit.

But who cares about such a difference? Everything above world-ending

scale would be just an academic question to everyone involved. If two
actual gods fought each other on a colonized planet, they would have to
wield forces which would tear the planet asunder, just to hurt the other
party. What they were fighting about would become a moot point the
moment they raised their hands with the intention to do permanent
damage.

Isabel’s complaints force my attention back to her.

“But I am bored! The others left me behind to watch your base while they
have fun with the mortals and are building your empire. I also want to
gather some worshippers for you.” Her expression turns sketchy and she
sucks in her lower lip, quivering with excitement. “Hnhnhn... I would
convert entire towns, just by undressing on the plaza.”

“I think that's the reason why the others left you to watch the base,” I
comment. “I don't think that it would leave my religion in a positive light
if my priestesses start undressing in the middle of town.” She is a
succubus after all. The most likely outcome would be that all the men try
to fuck her on the spot. Then their women get involved in an attempt to
avenge their husbands' unfaithfulness. “I'm just not entirely certain if the
ultimate outcome would be an orgy or a bloodbath.”
“Now that you mention orgies...” She reaches over the table and draws a
circle on my chest. “Didn't you promise to pay me a visit? Back at the
castle? You never showed yourself and I felt kind of stood up.”

“Oh...” I wet my lips. “Things happened.” If I learned one thing during my

time on the plane of lust, then it's never to go back on a promise with a
succubus. “How can I make it up to you?”

She looks me up and down and smiles.

“Why do I dislike that look of yours?”

“Because I know exactly how to punish you for ignoring me.”

Elsewhere
Willow
“Will she really be fine?” Belarius asks and strokes his white beard, slight
lines of worry marring his elderly face.

“No. Nope.” Karin shakes her head. “Just look at that thing! I will totally
not be fine!” She points down into the town. “That’s a freaking scorpion! I
hate spiders and this one has pincers and a tail! A house-sized scorpion
with pincers as large as a carriage. There is no way I can fight that! Just
crush it with a spell. You guys can easily deal with that thing.”

A few minutes ago, all the village’s alarms went off, announcing that we
are being attacked. The monster broke through the city wall and went on a
rampage in the living quarters of the civilians. As dutiful citizens, we
joined Belarius in his rush to his bunker’s balcony. I call it a bunker, but
it’s actually the head-mages abode.

I thought we may be able to help. After all, he took us in when we had

nothing more to give but our word. So I turn my attention to the battle.
The village’s guards are doing their best to distract the mutated creature,
but without mentionable magical abilities of their own, they are nothing
more than distractions. When one of them gets a hit in, with a spear or a
halberd, it only cuts a small piece out of the creature’s armour. Arrows are
completely useless against the red, blue and green shimmering plates of
chitinous armour which cover the whole monster.

I watch as the scorpion reaches down with a pincer and catches one of the
armoured guards. Lifting him up, it swipes with the other arm at a group
of defenders who scatter like mice in front of a cat.

Clamping down on the caught guard’s chest plate, it separates the man in
two with a casual ‘snip’.

“D- did you see that?” Karin gasps. “There is no way I am going down
there!”

“Oh, don’t be a little pussy,” I admonish her. “We are now living in this
place, whether we want to or not. What we certainly won’t do is to neglect
your training and we owe these nice people who took us in! This is the
perfect chance to pay them back and to prove that we aren’t monsters.”

“No- nononononono-”

Taking her arm, I jump onto the balcony’s balustrade and spin around,
accelerating the payload in order to place her strategically in the combat
zone, directly in front of the monster.

“Noooooooo… why… dooo… youuu… throwww… meee… everyyy…

timeee!”

Launching Karin on a ballistic trajectory, I watch her spin helplessly

through the air, only to land pathetically in front of the surprised creature.
She somersaults three times before finally coming to a halt entirely too
close to the monster, her beautiful white robes now defiled with dust and
dirt.
“I still don’t think that someone of her level should fight a mutated
creature of that size,” Belarius murmurs. “It must have been right in the
centre of a mana storm to grow that large.”

“Don’t worry. Karin is a good student, but nobody grows without learning
to deal with life-threatening situations. She will survive.” I watch as the
girl jump-rolls to the side, barely avoiding a pincer chopping down on her.
Had she stayed in place, she would have been squashed to a pulp.

“So she won’t be fine!” Belarius complains.

I glance at him, quite curious why the old man took such a liking to Karin.
I really hope that he doesn’t have ulterior motives. But then I discard the
thought. Ashley surely taught Karin how to take care of pushy men. “Most
likely not, but it’s better to get a little roughed up than to die, right? She
has to gather experience.”

Returning my attention to the fight, I witness Karin playing cat and mouse
with the monstrosity. Screaming, she is running in a circle while the
scorpion-thing chases the cute, little morsel I threw in front of it.

“Tch! She is supposed to fight and kill that thing, not run in circles while
the rest of the village gets trampled.” Raising my hands, I channel magic
and cast Elemental Transformation, raising three durable walls to contain
the two combatants.

Realizing what’s happening, Karin changes direction to escape through the

only possible opening.

I grin evilly and pour more power into the spell, raising the fourth wall,
boxing the two of them in.
 Chapter 23

The World
Seria
“They killed all of my supporters in that town, and then they went and had
a freaking orgy in the ruins! How can you say that’s not evil!?” Myrm
snarls at me and I shrink back to avoid the spittle which involuntarily flies
out of her mouth. At least I hope that it was involuntarily.

Whew, she is pissed today.

“Well, you funded that town’s resistance group and it was located within
Luxley’s territory. It’s only natural for any government to strike down a
rebellion. I admit that having an orgy among the remains of your fallen
enemies is morally misguided, but it’s not what I would call evil. I've seen
many cultures who eat their enemies. Having a little survival sex after a
mortal encounter seems comparably mild.” I finish laying out my point of
view and materialize a tissue to clean my face. “Myrm, are you sure that
this assignment doesn’t get to you? Each time we talk you are a little more
agitated. I am worried about you.”

“I am only doing my job,” she replies defensively and reaches for her
amulet, rubbing it between her thumb and index finger.

Eyeing her trinket, I press my lips together as a suspicion slowly worms

itself into my thoughts. Myrm was always a very wilful individual, but her
fixation on Ascathon as her adversary struck me as odd. The same thing
goes for her blind-sighted purpose of following the Council’s creed. They
never did anything that would warrant her loyalty. Add to that the fact that
Myrm is ignoring all the hints which Nazareth, Marigold and I are giving
her. She was always a little thick-headed in regards to taking advice, but
what strikes me as odd is her violence towards Ascathon. From everything
I know about their encounters, her recent attempt at assassinating him in
front of Tjenemit was over the top. She clearly lost her self-control on that
day.

Could it be that the amulet’s subtle magic is affecting her?

But why should she be affected, while everyone else seems to be fine?

I cast a look around her office, then I get up and turn my chair around,
searching for additional spellwork. Under Myrm’s suspicious gaze, I crawl
beneath her office table in order to inspect her chair, any surface that's not
obvious and could be bespelled with magical circles.

She gets up, stepping away from me. “What’s that supposed to be?” she
asks warily.

“Nothing. Just checking something,” I reply, knowing that I am making a

fool out of myself. “Say, Myrm, are you still training your external magic
as I told you to do?”

“Hah!” She crosses her arms defensively in front of her chest and shrugs.
“Not very often. You know well enough that I damaged my ability to
project in return for mastering my internal magic. So I have mostly given
up on casting external spells. Why do you ask?”

Nodding, I get out from beneath the table without having found anything.

The difference between internal and external magic is what you can do
with it. Most people with a magical gift are using both variants on an
instinctual level. Internal magic is all about controlling the magical energy
flow within your body. Some martial artists call it Ki, and Myrm is a
master in that field.

Then there is external magic, the ability to project and control energy
outside your body. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s necessary to limit
the amulet’s effects on its holder. Reaching out, I cast a simple light-spell,
pouring a stupid amount of energy into it for the sole purpose of charging
the environment with energy.

Myrm pulls a face and shields her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Just testing something. Myrm, I want you to take up your training again.
Visit me as often as you can.” That should at least stop her from getting
any worse. If I am correct, then the amulet already affected her. Her
practise of internal magic doesn’t require her to charge her environment
with energy, therefore not affecting the enchantment on the amulet as
severely as it happened with Ascathon’s or mine.

If I am right, then it would be an extremely bad idea to share any

information about the Council’s machinations with her. Her behaviour
already indicates that she sees the Council as something that’s superior to
us. I really hope that I am wrong.

Myrm doesn’t answer. Instead, she displays a myriad of emotions on her

face. “But I have so much work to do with my religion. And I really suck
at external magic. It just doesn’t make any sense for me to learn it. Why
should I waste time and effort on something that I’ll never be able to use
properly.”

She stabs her hand towards her office window, which uses coloured glass
to display a beautiful religious scene which I am unfamiliar with. “Open
the window and look out there. Every little acolyte in that courtyard has
more magical skill than I do in his little finger, despite the fact that they
are all mortals.”

I roll my eyes. “They have nowhere near enough talent to come even close
to you. So what if they have no problem with casting a light spell? You are
millennia ahead of them when it comes to internal magic. And you have
millennia ahead of yourself to master your external magic as well. Didn’t
you complain to me about being unable to heal that girl who Ascathon
took away with him?”
Her expression darkens. “I still can’t believe that she will be fine with
him. I can’t even imagine what horrors she must be suffering under his
yoke.”

Not exactly fine, that may be leaning a little too far out of the window.
Though, from the last time I spoke to Willow, the girl seems be
blossoming. Maybe I should check up on them. Neither of her two
caretakers are true parenting material in their current state. “She will
survive and be stronger for it, but you are trying to change the subject.
Don’t you want to save girls like her in the future? The very least you
could do is to master a basic healing spell. With the amount of power you
have at your disposal, a basic spell from you would be on par with a
priest’s greater healing abilities.”

She struggles a bit with the decision, but in the end she finally brings
herself to promise me at least that much. “Fine. I’ll see to it that I learn at
least one or two minor healing spells.”

I nod. “Good. Then let’s waste no time and start immediately. From now
on, we are going to meet up every day!”

Myrm’s expression turns from resigned to horrified.

I stay for a while longer with Myrm, ensuring that her office is saturated
with magical energies. If she herself can't damage the artefact around her
neck, then I have to ensure that the enchantment deteriorates as it
happened with Ascathon and myself.

After an hour of forcing her to train her magic, I take my leave, promising
to myself that I would visit her again tomorrow morning.

Having Myrm's mind influenced puts an entirely different perspective on

the situation. If my theory is correct, then this might actually be a worst
case scenario and I have no idea what to do. I know next to nothing about
mind magic except for the basics and how to defend myself.

There is only one person who might be able to do something.

Taking a pathway out of Myrm's office, I teleport directly into the idiot's
lair, appearing in the hallway of his underground base. Noises and idiotic
giggling from the living room immediately draw my attention.

“Oh, yeah... that's exactly the spot. Girl, you are fantastic. If it weren't for
that damn time dilatation, I would have visited you and the others on a
regular basis.”

Clenching my jaw, I grind my teeth together with enough force to create an

audible sound. Expecting to barge in on a scene which I really don't want
to witness, I enter the living room.

Luckily, it's much less annoying than I thought it would be.

Ascathon is lying on the plush carpet in the middle of the room, while a
half-naked succubus with green hair is sitting on his back, massaging his
shoulders. What she is wearing counts barely as a swim-suit; the red and
frilly bra and panties are on the borderline to lingerie. He is wearing pants,
so that's not the worst I could have walked in on.

“Ahem!” I clear my throat, hoping to gain their attention.

“Isabel? Why are you stopping?” Ascathon looks up, but because of his
positioning, he can't see me.

The succubus looks up and spots me, annoyance written all over her face.
Her tail stands up straight and her eyes widen in shock when I reply by
releasing a little of my aura.

“We need to talk, Ascathon,” I announce my presence.

He jumps up, throwing off the girl who squeaks in dismay. She rolls off
the floor and immediately seeks a position next to the couch which puts
Ascathon between herself and me.

Smart woman.

“What the actual fuck!? How by the howling Chaos did you get in here!?
This is supposed to be a safe place.” Ascathon raises both hands and
releases his own aura.

“Don’t worry. I am not here to start something.” I wave my hands, palms

out, to show that I intend no harm. “If it weren’t an emergency I wouldn’t
be here. But you only visit Studio 7 when you want something and it’s
likely that weeks would have passed before you showed yourself. I need
advice now.”

His eyes narrow. “Who told you about this place?”

I purse my lips, not sure if I should rat out Willow. The woman is likable
enough in my opinion, and aside from a certain other personality, she is
the only person I know of who actually decided to stick with Ascathon for
several centuries. Without her looking after him, he would be a neglected
bum who is barely able to socialize with anyone. Not that he is able to
socialize with people in his current state. All I want to say is that it would
be worse without her influence.

“I am not sure if-”

He rudely interrupts me, “Not necessary! I can imagine who. After all,
there is only one other person who was living here in the recent centuries.
That drastically limits the pool of suspects. I just didn’t expect her to be
that foolish.”

“Willow isn’t foolish,” I reply. “She is just much better at judging people!
Better than you! I am not your enemy, and Willow is smart for searching
out other gods who may help her in case she manages to ascend on her
own. The more of us who know about her, the less chance there is for her
to vanish like the others. Can I ask my question now? You will have one
good with me if you give me your input.”

He furrows his forehead, not quite sure what to think of the situation.

“Is she an enemy? If not, then throw her out and let’s continue from where
we left off,” the succubus suggests from next to the couch.
“Shut up, pleasure doll, the adults are talking,” I reprimand her, ignoring
the offended gasp.

“Miaow!”

The noise draws my attention, and I look down, noticing Ascathon’s little
white kitten pawing at my foot. “Hello, kitty! Long time no see!” I bend
down and pick up the little purring familiar. “Who is a good pet?”

“Arrgh!” Ascathon forms his fingers into claws, clearly showing his
agitation. “Betrayal! Mur, I hope you know what you are doing! Turning
your back on your master like that!”

The kitten isn’t impressed and continues to purr in my palm. It even closes
its eyes, totally relaxed. I furrow my own forehead. “I hope you notice that
you are regularly changing your familiar’s name?”

“Ascathon? I really think you should throw her out. You promised me to
pay me some attention,” the succubus rejoins the conversation.

Ascathon rolls his eyes and massages his temples. “Isabel! You aren’t
helping! Here.” He takes off an amulet from around his neck. Not the one
which we got from Tjenemit, but a different kind. Holding it in his palm,
he quickly draws some magical symbols above the amulet, changing its
settings. Turning, he puts it around the succubus’s neck.

“What-” Isabel asks, but her words are cut off when the artefact activates.
“Oh...” Her tail twitches. “Oooh… mmmh…” Her eyes roll upwards in
their sockets and she starts twitching and moaning. Touching her own
chest, she is about to please herself when her legs buckle and she topples
backwards onto the sofa. After a few more seconds of silent ecstasy,
twitching and impotently bucking her hips, she passes out with a gasp of
pleasure. As if a hunger was finally satiated after centuries of starvation.

“What… the… heck… was… that?” I ask and look at Ascathon, feeling a
cold shiver run down my spine.
“Succubus physiology 101. They evolved in a highly dangerous
environment. For survival, their metabolism and their magical abilities are
in overdrive mode, practically burning up their body. To combat that, they
developed the ability to feed on the life force of other beings, but normally
it’s never enough for them. Their ‘special skills’ are meant to keep their
prey alive and ignorant of its fate while they feed. The amulet normally
supplies me with life force by converting my own mana into energy,
healing what the succubus takes for me. I switched off the limiter and set
it to draw energy from the environment. I hope you noticed that it got
several degrees colder.”

“So… she is in a food coma?” I ask, intrigued.

“Essentially, yes, so what do you want.” He plants his hands on his hips,
annoyed. “Why are you interrupting? Because of you, I did something
stupid. I am sure that she will want her own amulet now and tell all her
friends. Then they will have no more reason to spend time with me.” He
stabs his thumb at his own chest, putting on a mirthful expression. “And
put on something normal if you don't intend on hitting on me.”

I look down at myself, feeling that there is nothing wrong with the light
yellow summer-dress flowing along my curves.

So I return my attention to him. “Oh, I am so sorry, but we have a real

problem,” I chide. “I have very strong reason to believe that Myrm is
affected by the amulet!” Then I continue to lay out the reasons for my
suspicions and how Myrm’s behaviour became ever more unreasonable
since she was invited to our testing group.

Ascathon listens to everything, massaging his chin with a furrowed

forehead. When I finish he remains silent for a whole minute, looking at
the floor.

Finally, he returns his attention to me, giving me his verdict. “I am sorry,

but there is no solution for your problem, at least none that you would
accept. If it’s true that Myrm is such a unique creature, a master of internal
mana manipulation, then it’s possible that Myrm at least partly fell victim
to the amulet’s influence. We could only be sure if we get to examine the
amulet. It’s unlikely that Myrm will allow it if the amulet is indeed
functioning.”

“Which solutions are there?” I ask, not wanting to give up on Myrm.

He shrugs. “The first thing to do you found out for yourself. Make sure
that it doesn’t get any worse by disabling the amulet. Simply expose it to
highly magical environments. Maybe go on a field trip and accidentally
throw Myrm into a mana storm?” He cackles. “That would do the trick.
But it has been months since the experiment started. Whatever effects took
hold up until now are likely to be permanent. Even if Myrm reincarnates.”

I nod. “Good. I can accomplish that. What else can I do?”

“That’s the part you won’t like. I could pick Myrm’s mind apart, tear the
soul to shreds and rearrange the pieces to our liking, conveniently
abandoning the parts that make Myrm feel loyalty towards the Council. I
am sorry, but there is a reason why this type of mind magic is banned.”

I blanch. “So there is no solution apart from extreme intervention?”

He shakes his head. “Nope!”

The World
Ascathon
I slowly drift in the water of my little illusionary beach scene, studying
Ashley’s reports as they hover in front of my face. The woman is a gift
from heaven and a tactical genius. Her maps and predictions are so
detailed that I am tempted to leave the entirety of this empire-building
process in her capable hands.

But as it always is with the world, there will be problems for which she
will need my help. Myrm won’t stand aside and do nothing while Luxley
and his descendants take over the world.
Ashley predicts that it will take a hundred years to take over the central
continent’s southern regions. I concur with her on that point.

The regions which we’ve set our eyes on will be militarily defeated and
conquered much sooner, but Ashley is a smart one. She doesn’t count
those regions as an actual part of Luxley’s empire until their populations
have accepted our rule entirely. Rooting out all the resistance and making
the public see things from our point of view will take one or two
generations at the least.

We can’t waltz into a small kingdom with a few dozen large cities, bring
down the current rulers and expect that everyone will immediately switch
to our side. Taking care of the unrest which will be the direct result of such
an action also isn’t a problem. The world as a whole is already a highly
militaristic medieval society and it isn’t uncommon for young men to take
up arms and fight in some small border conflict, or to join a mercenary
guild, ending up fighting for some city-state three borders away from their
home.

This means that we don’t lack troops, but it also means that it will be hard
to make people see things my way. I want to return society to what it once
was. A scientific culture which uses its knowledge to better the lives of the
people.

That can’t happen without us forcing the population to change their habits.
The children have to stop working in the fields and most of the men have
to stay at home to build up our industrial revolution. We will still need
mercenaries to beat down any form of uprising, but as the resistance
wanes, we will be able to free up more men for actual work.

Less and less soldiers will be needed so that we can shift our attention
from the occupation of territory to establishing an actual border with our
religious counterpart.

I have no doubt that there will be conflicts with Myrm’s faction. Battles
will be fought and land will be lost and won over the years, but ultimately
the split of the continent into two factions will remain.
Many medieval empires make the mistake of growing larger than they are
able to handle. They ride on the wave of their conquests, financing war
after war with the loot of defeated enemies. Their success makes them
blind to what lies behind them and before they realize it, their empire
crumbles from within because they are unable to control all the land they
grabbed without thinking.

For that very reason, we have to limit ourselves and establish order within
our domain before we can proceed. Unless Myrm is an utter fool, the same
will apply to the domain of light.

Closing my eyes, I decide to take a small nap while I think things over.
 Chapter 24

Elsewhere
Ascathon
It's quite endearing how the years tend to flow past someone who is
immortal. I mean, when you have a succubus for every day of the month,
you tend to lose track of time.

So I waited, I observed, and I planned.

Not only in regards to Myrm and her Alliance of Light, but I also had to
keep the Council in mind. Then, of course, there was the little issue with
Tjenemit's decree, forbidding the gods from direct intervention. It’s the
reason why I leave most of the work to Ashley and her succubi. I needed to
have half of my attention on the Crystal City and the political state of
things.

Patient as I am, I waited for my avatar to be ready while Ashley and her
daughters took care of Luxley's Empire.

I might add that it's totally unlike me to be that patient. Patient enough to
leave Willow and Karin to their own devices, paying them only the
occasional visit, therefore removing myself from the responsibility of
being Karin's teacher. Sadly, it meant that I missed how she bloomed into
an adult, a quite wilful one at that. I think Willow's character traits ended
up rubbing off on her.

But like with every good scheme, the time of blissful ignorance had to end
at some point. Even the best lies and deflections end up coming to the
light of day at one point or the other. To be exact, it had to end when Seria
finally found out about Willow's whereabouts and paid her 'friend' a visit.

As women are women, they ended up chatting and, of course, the topic of
conversation strayed towards the current state of affairs at home and in the
Crystal City.

*Slap!*

“You let us rot in this place for over a decade! And now I find out from
Seria that there is absolutely nothing going on at home, apart from the
normal mortal squabbles! And there is no actual sign that the Council
might do anything within the next millennia!” Willow raises her hand and
slaps me again. “I demand that you take us back home right this instant!”

I look around the spartan living room which was given to Willow and
Karin in return for their help in defending the city. It seems like even the
upper echelons of society don't live in luxury on this world.

My attention lands on Seria, who smirks dirtily at me, happy that I am

being scolded. Her white, silken dress flows gently around her curves. The
material is almost transparent, hinting at the outlines of her body and her
womanly features. It practically screams for a bucket of water to be
emptied over her head, wetting that obscene piece of fabric.

How is that naughty little bitch able to track down people over a distance
of galaxies, timelines, and even dimensions? It defies logic. The most I
can do is to take a ride on the pathway someone else used and follow them.
Though, that only works if the person in question does it right in front of
me. Seria is somehow able to track someone down years after the deed.

“Don't forget to allow me too to get one in for good measure!” The young
woman next to Willow demands, fire in her eyes. “This place is hell. There
are almost daily monster attacks, no matter the time of day.”

I turn my attention to Karin, who developed into a young woman. Her red
hair is like a cascade of fire flowing down her shoulders and over her back.
Thanks to Willow's rigorous training, she developed an athletic body,
putting most other women to shame. Her choice of wardrobe is...
eccentric... probably influenced by both Ashley and Willow.

It looks almost like one of those impractical fantasy armours which

females tend to wear in fantasy video games in order to service the male
audience, walking that absurd line between functionality, sex appeal, and
utter uselessness.

“I probably deserved that slap,” I admit after considering my options.

It's hard to say what exactly Seria told Willow before I arrived at the
scene, but if she wants to drive a wedge between me and my loyal servant,
then she has to get up earlier. I know Willow better than anyone.

Pulling down the corners of my mouth, I try to sound regretful. “I

understand how you feel, but please try to see things from my point of
view. You are my friend.” With benefits. “An important part of my life.
Back then, I really couldn't be sure how things would have developed. I
just wanted you to be in a place where the Council wouldn't immediately
become aware of you as soon as you ascended. Our world is currently
under heavy observation. It just not safe for someone who is on the brink
of ascension. Out here, you at least have a chance at staying undiscovered
should you happen to ascend.”

I put both hands onto my chest, making a show. “I knew that you wouldn't
consent to a relocation, had I told you that things seem to have calmed
down for now. It doesn't change the fact that our home isn't a safe place for
anyone right now. Wouldn't you at least consider staying here? I promise
that this world has the best living conditions I managed to find so close to
a Void Zone.”

“Oh.” The corners of Willow's mouth twitch slightly upwards, turning into
a smile. “I wasn't aware that I am such an important person to you.”
Stepping forward, she hugs me and I reply in kind, feeling like I achieved
a social victory.

“Ascathon?” Willow whispers into my ear.

“Yes?”

“I am very open-hearted, but the way this is going is a little too far. If you
don't stop squeezing my ass like that in front of the others, you will be
forced to use your other body for a week or two. That's how long it will
take to repair the damage to this one,” she announces with fire in her
words.

I immediately get my meddlesome hand back under control and place it on

Willow's back instead. “Sorry. I think I am getting too used to my other
minions.”

“That's another thing we will have to talk about. I hope you didn't let any
of them into my rooms?” Willow asks a little bit pensively.

“Of course not!” I reply with vigour in my voice. It took a while for me to
understand Willow's character. She is willing to take a lot and do many
things in my service, but her private quarters and their secrets are a line
not to be crossed. “I put everything into a stasis field after your departure.
It's like the day you left.”

“Good! You can let go now,” she replies briskly.

I open my arms, a little sad to let her go. “I assume that I can't talk you out
of returning home?” I look around the room. It's not as bad as she says,
though who can understand the hearts of women who are used to living in
luxury? There is more than enough space and it's clean. I wouldn't need
more than that.

“I mean, you just have a table, beds and a few books, but if it's really just
about luxury items I can bring you some. We could go to a technologically
advanced world and raid a shopping mall.”

Karin's eyes start gleaming at that suggestion. “Yes! By all means! Let's
go now! Ever since that damn machine of yours put all that knowledge
into my brain I wanted to see such a mythical place!”
“Hush, dear.” Willow waves her hand, immediately dimming the girl's
enthusiasm as if she were a well-trained dog.

Turning her attention back to me, Willow straightens her spine. “We are
going back. Now!”

“Okay.” I raise both hands defensively, wondering what else I could try to
change her opinion. The problem is that Seria is also here. If I refuse to
take Willow back, the blonde goddess would certainly do it. “Get your
things and say goodbye to the locals, then we leave.” Maybe I can use the
time of their absence to convince Seria that it's safer for them to stay here.
We could leave Willow and Karin here, and I come back to get Karin at a
later date.

Willow links arms with Karin, looking at me defiantly. “Just take us back.
There is nothing we need to take with us and no person who isn't aware
that we could leave at any moment without notice.”

Karin nods after a moment of hesitation. “Yeah, no need to see the geezer.”

So they prepared for this?

My musings are interrupted when a red tear of energy rips space itself
apart right in the middle of the room. Blue and red chaotic energies form a
portal and a delicate, naked leg in high heels appears through the portal,
flaunting perfect red skin, followed by Ashley in all her glory. The
succubus presents herself in a black china dress with the depiction of a
dragon stitched onto it with golden thread.

She searches the room, positioning her hands on her hips. “Ascathon, there
you are. We have a proble- ah-”

“That's our ticket!” Pulling Karin with her, Willow pushes past Ashley,
almost making the succubus matriarch stumble because of her ridiculous
stilettos. They jump through the portal.

“Hey!” Ashley complains. “Ascathon said that I am not allowed to take

you back!”
Sighing, I wave her off. “Let it be, I would have had to take them back
anyway. I think their exile has lasted for long enough.” Grumbling, I place
my hands in my pockets and follow the two back to our own world.

Instead of taking the offered ride, Seria simply appears on the other side of
the portal, having taken the pathways. Ashley is the last to return. Running
a finger along the seam of the portal, she shuts it like a zipper.

Now no longer supported by the portal's light, the room dims, making it
hard to see. The place is large but dark, musky, and dirty. A humid cellar?
No, there is also the definitive scent of blood and urine.

Raising a hand, palms up, I cast a flurry of light globes, plastering the
ceiling with them and lighting up the room. “Ooh, nice. A good old torture
chamber.” Appreciating the generous assortment of equipment scattered
around the room, I test the pointy nails of the iron maiden next to me.

“I would like to say that it's good to be home, but I'll wait with that until I
am actually there,” Willow mumbles demurely.

“Sorry, but portals are simple point to point dimensional warping. I've yet
to find a way to make them deposit you at a destination of your wish.”
Ashley muses, tapping her chin with a finger. “If I could do that, that
would make me almost equal with a lesser deity.”

“You said something about an emergency?” I ask, trying to get the

demoness back on track. “And where are we?”

“Oh, yes! These are the dungeons beneath Luxley's palace!” She claps her
hands together, then points somewhere behind me. “The Alliance of Light
sent spies into our territory, again! It's slowly getting old. We caught two
of them.”

“So what's the problem?” I ask, not understanding the issue. “Just
interrogate and dispose of them. Or use them for counter-intelligence.
There should be no big issue with that.” I follow Ashley's finger towards
two people who are chained to large and robust chairs.
One of them is quite dead. His skin is sunken in and he has a lustful
expression on his face. His erection is still standing proudly for all to see,
making it quite clear which method of interrogation Ashley chose to
deploy.

The other is still alive, and while he looks a little worse for wear, he is
glaring at us defiantly. Garbed in the white and red costume of one of
Luxley's imperial officials, he most likely gained access to some
information which we don't want our enemies to have.

“Yes.” Ashley strides forward, gesturing at the pair. “It's nothing unusual
for the Lighties to send spies, but this is something new. Apparently, their
god found a way to make his fanatics immune to interrogation.” She pats
her belly, looking satiated, but bewildered at the same time. “I took the
soul of that one when they refused to yield to the normal methods, but
somehow his memories remain inaccessible even now. All I get from
digesting his soul is incoherent mumble-jumble that makes no sense.”

The other women in the room look appalled, while my own curiosity is
peaked.

“You will never get us to talk! Spawn of hell!” The other man spits out
defiantly, despite his state. It's quite obvious that Ashley opted for a little
sadistic play before she chose magical interrogation.

Stepping closer, I poke the man's forehead in an attempt to read his mind,
but all I encounter is gaping emptiness. “Interesting. It's like he isn't there.
Either he has some pretty impressive defenses, or he is as dumb as a piece
of rock.”

He looks a little peeved at my assertion.

Tilting my head, I study him in a new light. “Isn't Myrm bad at magic?
This must be some really advanced form of mental defence.” Turning my
head, I look at Seria, but the goddess just shrugs, playing the card of
innocent neutrality.

“Maybe it's not magic, but a mundane solution?” Willow suggests.

“Possible,” Ashley admits. “I tried a little torture, then mental techniques
and finally absorbing his soul. Nothing worked on them, so when I finally
wasted one of the subjects I decided to get you. I honestly have no clue
how they are doing it.”

“Hmm.” I place a hand on the living subject and try again, but there is
nothing. It's like his mind slips away as soon as I try to burrow into it.
Normally, there should be something like a wall, holding the enemy at bay.
This method of defence is quite different from anything I have
encountered before.

I poke the man's chest quite forcefully and he twitches. “It seems like they
are still receptible to pain. Maybe mind magic isn't necessary?”

“Oh, we don't want to see that. Karin, let's leave this to them and go
home.” Willow reaches for her charge.

“Nonono.” I wave my hand to stop her. “Let the girl stay. She can learn
from this.”

“No matter what you do, our minds and souls are protected, and our wills
are strong. There is no pain you can inflict on us that would make us talk,”
the prisoner interjects vehemently, raising his chin.

I place a hand on top of his head, stroking his unkempt hair so that it
doesn't fall into his face. “Oh, mortal. You have no idea what I am or what
I am capable of. You see, there are so many different ways of breaking the
mind, and I see myself as an expert.” Grinning, I look down at him, but he
somehow seems reluctant to meet my eyes.

Turning to Ashley, I decide to share some information with her. “Ashley,

as a demoness you are also a sort of expert, but you seem to have forgotten
that there are other terrors than lust and ecstasy to make someone talk.
When you interrogate someone, it's not so much about the sensations, you
have to show them that there are so much worse things than simple death
by torture.”
“I was prepared for anything when I took this job,” the man insists
stubbornly, apparently believing that I am holding this speech for him.

“Hm. Yes,” I reply and reach down, testing the fingers of his hand for their
structure, carefully massaging the digits. I want the best one if I really
have to do this.

“Ha!” He huffs. “Do you think to break my fingers changes anything?”

Selecting the index finger of his right hand, I kneel down in front of him.
“Look at me, puny mortal.” I snap my fingers in front of his eyes. “Hey,
really, look at my eyes. Yes. Do you really think that I am human? After
looking into my eyes? How many humans do you know who have
completely black eyes? Breaking your fingers, that would be a human
thing to do, mortal.” Then I grin, showing him my perfect, sharp teeth.
“But this body is certainly not human. Nor am I some random villain. Did
you forget your own religion? I am the evil one in this story.”

Bending forward, I bite into his index finger. He screams and squeals like
a pig as I gently, delicately bite off the first digit. After all, I want him to
feel it. He struggles against his bindings until the very end, rocking the
heavy chair with his whole body until finally, the appendage separates
from his body.

Then I get back to my feet, chewing on the delicate flesh while wiping off
my lips. “You know, it's been a while since I tried human flesh. It’s a bit
chewy, but you get used to the metallic taste when it’s fresh and bloody.”

“Fuuuck!” The man gasps heavily and looks up at me with a horrified

expression. “You insane motherfucker!” Then a quite ingenious stream of
insults spills from his mouth. I take my time, listening to every word
while I chew very carefully.

He shuts up when I push out the fingernail from between my lips like
someone would expel a fishbone. I take it and split the nail with my
fingers to clean my teeth with the sharp edge. “You know...” I smack my
lips. “The tendons are always a little chewy, they tend to get caught
between the teeth.”
I spit a perfectly white fingerbone into his lap and he looks at it, horrified.
“Did you know that, depending on the age of a person, there are more or
less 206 bones inside a human body? It means that I get to do this 204
more times. You don’t believe me that you will survive until the only
remaining bone is your skull? Oh, but you will.”

Showing him my teeth, coloured by his blood, I observe as he pales a little

further. “I got quite skilled over the millennia.” Then I flick his forehead.
“It’s just that last bone that’s always a bother. Once you crack that thing
open and spoon out the insides, people give up the ghost. But don’t worry.
You have a master over souls right here. I’ll take yours out of what
remains of your body and attach it to the skeleton servant which I’ll create
from your cleaned up bones. I already have one soulless servant, but I’ll
make an exception just for you. You will get to watch the skeleton’s
actions from the back-seat for all eternity.”

Suddenly, the man is very eager to talk. Words spill from his mouth. It
seems like he doesn’t know where to start with giving us information.
 Chapter 25

The World
Willow
“Gods, I hate it when he decides to play the evil guy. How can anyone
enjoy eating another sentient being? Can’t he practice his culinary
perversions somewhere else?” I turn away so that I don’t have to face the
music, unable to watch Ascathon chewing on someone. “Turn away, Karin.
We don’t have to watch that, even if he says that its to teach you.”

I take my green-faced pupil’s arm and turn her away from the scene.

Of course, Ashley, the succubus matriarch smiles gleefully and changes

positions so that she can talk to me while she watches Ascathon proceed
with the interrogation.

“Aw, don't be so squeamish,” Ashley chortles and tilts her hips slightly,
probably unconsciously, thanks to years of being who she is.

“It's actually quite the ingenious technique,” she praises. “It totally eluded
me that biting off a few bits actually works that well on mortals. I
assumed that the spy was a cold-hearted bastard after I consumed his
companion. The guy didn’t show the slightest bit of fear or hesitation and
kept chanting his insults, a fanatic right down to the core.”

I purse my lips. “Well, even if you consumed his friend, I don't think that
seeing your colleague spend his last moments in sexual bliss is actually
that frightening.” In my experience, some men even think that it's the best
way to die. “There are surely worse ways to go than having a femme fatale
suck out your life-force while you are on cloud nine and grinning like
stupid. It certainly won’t frighten someone who watches the scene as much
as seeing his friend dismembered or eaten.”

“Hum.” She pulls at her lower lip, thinking hard. “Come to think of it, that
might have been a mistake of mine. It seems like I have become a little
too set in my ways after millennia of living on the Plains of Lust. But in
hindsight, how could I have known that digesting the man’s soul wouldn’t
have brought the desired result? In my experience, that method always
worked perfectly until now.”

I shrug. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I think I am getting sick!” Karin complains after listening to the noises of

the interrogation, a pale sheen colouring her face. “Just kill him already,
Ascathon.” She turns to shoot an angry glare at the god. “Oh, no, not the
ear!” Finally, the kid decides to turn away covering her mouth in an
attempt to hold back the contents of her stomach.

Smirking, I nudge the girl. “See? I told you not to watch.”

“I think we a have bucket somewhere.” Ashley strolls away, retrieving a

bucket from the corner of the room. “I thought you are used to death and
gore, girl. Do I have to put you through a wholly different training course
before we actually start learning spells?”

Karin takes the bucket and holds it against her chest to be ready, should the
urge to retch overcome her. “It’s not about blood, gore or death. I couldn’t
care less about those things, or about what happens to evil people. Bad
men deserve bad things happening to them.”

I raise both eyebrows. “So what’s the problem then?”

She shakes her head. “It’s the thought of eating something raw! Haven’t
you ever bitten into cartilage? It’s so chewy and resistant, even if it’s
cooked well. Just imagine the feeling or taste when it’s raw. Oh, gods, I
can’t even think about it.”
“That’s actually quite the unique weakness, girl.” Ashley’s attention
returns to the prisoner. “Ah, Ascathon! If you are done with him, please
don’t kill him off. We still need him.”

“Huh? What for?” Ascathon asks.

Turning around, I find him bent over the crying mortal, his hand on the
man’s throat. At least he isn’t going to bite the man’s jugular to end it.

Ashley steps towards Karin, taking her by the arm. “Come, dear. We
finally found a test subject for you to practise on. I think you are now old
enough so that we won’t hurt your moral compass. He even looks decent.”

Karin shakes her head, looking at the mutilated man. Ascathon did quite
the number on him. The prisoner is missing multiple fingers and an ear,
combined with several other minor wounds.

I wince. We spent over a decade away from home, so Karin developed into
a beautiful young woman. Even though a lot of time passed, Ascathon’s
special gifts held her in better shape than most mages. Despite being in her
twenties, she still looks like sweet eighteen. A well-endowed teenager
whose curves would make a cover model jealous, but everyone can tell
that her face didn’t yet lose the innocence of a child.

“Wha- what? Practise?” Karin asks, blinking her cute heterochromatic

eyes. Then she realizes what Ashley’s intentions are and shakes her head
vehemently. “No! Certainly not! Look at him. He is all chewed up!”

“Oh, that’s okay, dear. Not everyone likes using blood as lubrication,”
Ashley replies, causing Karin to gasp in shock. My pupil’s eyes turn
towards me, searching for help.

‘Sorry,’ I mouth voicelessly, not having forgotten the promise Karin made
with Ashley. I don’t know much about demons, but the little I know is
enough to tell that you don’t break a promise with a demon. Much like
with the fae and my original people, the fairies, words hold power in their
culture. They are incredibly tricky and devious creatures, and you can be
sure that they will twist the nature of a contract as much to their benefit as
they can. Once a promise is made, they might not honour to the spirit of a
contract but will stick to the letter of it with all their might.

For all I know, this development might be good for Karin. During the
whole time which we spent in that other world, she didn’t even look at
boys. At first, the natives were staying away from us, but after getting
used to us, Karin quickly collected a harem of male admirers who all got
rejected with vehemence.

Instead of interacting with people her age, she threw herself into her
studies and sucked up my teachings like a sponge. I actually think that she
wasted a bit of her life, throwing away a chance like that. Sadly, she didn’t
listen to my advice.

The two or three girls she was ever talking to never managed to get her to
come out of her shell. They were distant friends, no more. Karin didn’t
even spare a second thought at saying goodbye when our chance to depart
arrived.

“I don’t like giving others my own life energy, but sometimes a teacher
has to prepare the ground for the student. Pay good attention, Karin. This
is called Greater Healing Kiss and it’s a very important spell if your prey
is weak.” Ashley digs her fingers into the whimpering man’s hair and pulls
his head back. Bending forward, she places her lips on the man’s mouth. A
pink aura surrounds him and his injuries seem to magically disappear. His
eyes glaze over and he starts drooling in complete bliss, his body relaxing
visibly.

Letting go of her victim, Ashley starts instructing her student on various

naughty techniques succubi use to befuddle their prey’s mind.

Turning away from the two, I step closer to Ascathon who seems deep in
thought. “Have you learned anything useful?”

He shrugs. “Not as much as I would have liked, but enough to go proceed

with care. Just as a good spy should, the guy doesn’t know much about the
Alliance of Light’s military and economy. The orders he was given were to
gain as much information about our capabilities and intentions as possible.
Something that’s to be expected from a spy.

“What’s troublesome about it, is that they were encouraged to take great
risks in acquiring information if the reward was equally promising. It’s the
only reason why the two were caught. They spent seven years building
their identities in order to gain access to Luxley’s palace. That takes
dedication and patience. They even have families back in their districts.
For all we knew, they were loyal citizens of the empire. But even as minor
district officials, they were not permitted to rummage through the palace’s
administration offices. That’s where they were ultimately caught.”

I wet my own lips, weighing this new information with my experience.

After years as an assassin, I got quite good at judging political
developments. After that, I helped to build the Mirai Empire, serving in
various functions, playing always close to the ongoings of political events.
It’s not that hard to compare the current events to those of the past. History
tends to repeat itself. “Usually, when a country gets very pushy with their
spying activities, something is up. Is the Alliance of Light actively
preparing for war?”

Ascathon nods. “It’s always something like that when someone wants to
know exactly where the enemy’s troops and garrisons are, not just a
general estimation of how much they have. The fact that they were
instructed to take risks is also pretty condemning. Someone high above
them must have a tight timetable.” He scratches his chin. “What puzzles
me more is how Myrm did it.”

“The immunity to mind magic?” I ask.

“Yes. I have an idea on what happened to the spies, but it’s mind boggling,
especially since Myrm apparently achieved it through mundane means.
There is no magical signature whatsoever, but somehow the connection
between the physical body and the soul was loosened, making it almost
impossible to get a firm grip on their soul’s anchor, which is necessary to
get to their minds and their memories. I assume that’s also the reason why
Ashley can’t read their soul’s memories properly. Their connections to the
physical world are too damaged.”
He shakes his head. “Myrm must have found a way to damage this
connection through mundane means. The spy said that he was given some
potion which is apparently responsible for his resistance to mind magic.
That’s as much concerning as it is exciting. I would have to spend a day or
two playing with someone’s mind to achieve the same thing.”

I look at him, forcing my eyes away from the scene of Karin trying to kiss
the prisoner with a disgusted expression on her face while Ashley is trying
to get her to loosen up and smile while kissing someone.

“I’ve never heard of such a technique. Why did you put me through all that
rigorous training to fortify myself against mind probes? If it’s as easy as
having a professional fumble around in-”

He raises a hand to stop me. “It’s not as easy as fumbling around in

someone’s mind. The body and soul of any sentient being is a very
complicated thing. Imagine the body as the hardware, a hard drive with
limited capacity. The soul is the cloud on the internet which regularly
draws backups and restores what’s lost in case the hard-drive suffers a
malfunction. Damaging the connection between the two can result in a
myriad of bad things. The least thing that would happen is that the person
will lose the ability to ascend; or will be damned to a standstill until the
damage repairs itself. At worst, the person in question will lose their grip
on reality, should the connection malfunction and ‘download’ memories
from other lifetimes they aren’t supposed to have.”

“So… what was done to them should only be done to someone who is
expendable? But if ‘downloading’ memories from this soul can be so
harmful, then how are we immortals able to handle it?” I ask.

“Mortals are unable to handle such memory flashes because the anchor to
their soul isn’t strong enough. Immortals have grown sufficiently in
strength to handle the shock. Still, sometimes a mortal is faced with a
situation they are unable to handle, something that’s so emotionally
devastating that the memory carries over to other lifetimes. That’s why
there are some people in the loony bin who are, at least physically,
completely healthy. I hope that you understand why I won’t do something
like that to people who I care about.”
I press my lips together. “Is that how you are stopping me from
ascending?”

“No. The mental training sessions I taught you are exactly what I
proclaimed them to be. Techniques to tighten and limit your control over
magical power. Should you ever want to ascend, you just have to reach for
as much power as you can. That’s how an immortal normally ascends.
They find themselves in a challenging situation and they refuse to yield to
fate. Instead of going on to the next reincarnation, they channel more
power than their anchor can handle. Which results in either them failing,
or ascending to godhood by unlocking their potential.”

The World
Seria
“What do you two think of the current developments?” I ask, eyeing
Nazareth and Marigold. The two brothers went into hiding after our little
excursion into the Council’s facilities. It shows that they may not be on the
Council’s side, but that their desire for survival is stronger than their will
to fight. I probably shouldn’t try to recruit them to my cause. They are the
type of people tend to roll over as soon as the odds aren’t in their favour.

Quite the unusual trait for gods, but there are surely stranger things. Not
everyone ascends through strife and hardship. Some take the long way,
slowly going step by little step until they ultimately crawl over the finish
line. “Also, isn’t it time for you two to stop hiding? It’s quite certain by
now that the Council didn’t catch onto our identities, or they would have
already come after us.”

“It’s never wrong to be careful,” Nazareth protests. “And it’s not like the
two of us have any connections or special traits that the Council is
interested in. The both of us are a dime and a dozen when it comes to
skills. My brother is a talented fighter, but that’s nothing special as far as
the Council is concerned. They have more than enough guards.”
“Yes,” I admit. “But a few weeks after the deed it slowly gets ridiculous.
To be honest, if Tjenemit catches onto the fact that the two of you are
behaving like two schoolboys who shattered a window, he might get
suspicious. By behaving as if you have to hide something, you are painting
targets onto your backs.”

“She is right, brother. We are drawing a different form of attention by

going into seclusion. It’s quite the unusual behaviour for us. We should be
glad that nobody but our friends noticed,” Marigold admits. He furrows
his forehead and allows his attention to wander, taking in the seemingly
endless wasteland all around us.

We are in the desolated zone in the centre of the continent. A huge,

roughly circular area of radiation and polluted soil, previously called the
Enternal Battlefield where two nations fought an unending war for riches
and political reasons.

That is, until a person by the name of Joyce arrived on the scene, later
known as Nova Mirai, the Necromantic Empress. She pulled the strings of
friend and foe alike, steering the mighty and powerful to assemble their
forces in this area. She dangled irresistible prices in front of the faces of
mortal and immortal foes alike, having them march to their own doom.

Then, in a single, mighty strike, she eradicated the main forces of the
Alliance, the Empire, and the Consortium. At the time, those were the
superpowers of the world and with their forces crushed, they couldn’t stop
Nova’s rise and her achieving world domination.

The price she was willing to pay was the lives of hundreds of thousands of
soldiers and innocents, and a huge blight in the middle of the continent
that didn’t heal millennia afterwards. This world was always a pool of
discontent and a playground of the many immortals who happened to
reincarnate in it. But she/he was the only one who stood above them all.

Finally, the huge half-orc stops his silent brooding and shares his thoughts
with us. “History repeats itself. Myrm and Ascathon are assembling their
forces once more, and whether they realize it or not, they are recreating
what they fought so long ago.” He chuckles. “They are even calling it the
Empire and the Alliance. Maybe they are subconsciously remembering the
past.”

I shift around on the stone which I chose as a seat. Just now Marigold
sounded like he realized something inconvenient about Myrm. Does he
know who her soul belonged to? “I hope that you won’t do something
unnecessary. As I already explained, Myrm can’t be trusted at the
moment.”

He nods.

“Good,” I continue. “As for the names, they are quite unfortunate, but
fitting for the political structures they are trying to enforce.”

“Whatever.” Nazareth huffs. “I want no part in it. If they want to use the
mortals for their squabbles, then they can do so. I have no particular love
for this world, but all of us can probably imagine that this won’t end with
mortals fighting mortals. I know Myrm well enough, and I had enough
time to observe Ascathon. Neither of them is the type of person to back
down from a challenge. Mark my words.”

The little gnome pulls in his legs, changing his sitting position to a cross-
legged one. Then he looks up at his brother. “They will continue to
escalate. At one point, either of the two will raise his hand against a mortal
of the other side. The other will retaliate in kind and things will slide out
of control until the two will face off against each other.”

He looks at me. “You probably shouldn’t think of that happening as a

'possibility'. It’s not a question whether it will happen, but when.” His face
crunches up in a displeased expression. “And once that happens, we should
probably be prepared for Tjenemit entering the scene.”
 Chapter 26

The Crystal City

Ascathon
Studio 7, the place where everything began is properly attended today. All
of the odd two dozen gods of the world's pantheon are present and paying
full attention to Tjenemit who is residing on the central stage like a
lecturer. While trying to be unassuming, I search the ranks of our little
pantheon carefully in an attempt to judge the mood.

Most of us are watching the proceedings with bored expressions, but some
can't hide their hostility. A few years of semi-slavery can do that to even
the most docile of gods. Among those with power, even the timid ones are
used to doing what they want.

Tjenemit pays those obvious discontents no attention, assured in the

knowledge that any hostile action from their side wouldn't end well for
them.

“My friends!” He claps his hands together, making sure that he has
everyone's attention. “I welcome you to the first proper project review. It
has been a few years and I must say that I am pleased. We didn't achieve
all of our milestones, but we did achieve most of them. First of all, I want
to honour Zenial, our beloved goddess of the moon, and Laurin, god of
harmony and love. Both of them managed to fulfil their assigned duty of
identifying potential ascendants to godhood and reported them as it is
proper.”
He waves his hands, obviously urging us to congratulate the pair. Then he
claps for applause.

The reaction is subdued and it takes a while for the rest of the room to
reluctantly join in with the clapping. In order to not be the one who stands
out, I also decide to clap a few times, just to go with the flow. The two
people in question look embarrassed. Zenial is playing with her hair and
focusing on the far wall, while Laurin's smile is obviously faked. The god
of harmony and love nods embarrassedly to those who pay him their
respect, his long, brown hair falling into his face.

I am quite sure that everyone in this room is aware that snitching on those
two immortals did them no favour. It's quite likely that more of us found
people with potential, but decided to keep their mouths shut instead of
blurting out the identities of identified immortals.

Just like I did with Willow and Karin.

Tjenemit launches into a lengthy explanation of how the two deities in

question managed to identify their immortals. Which I have to admit is
quite the feat without soul magic. Zenial and Laurin had to rely on their
wits, identifying the other party's nature by relying on their knowledge and
by judging the behaviour of the people in question.

Most immortals tend to get pretty good at hiding their true nature, thanks
to an endless line of reincarnations.

After getting locked up in a nuthouse for the first time, even the most
stupid of us get the lesson. A life of being fastened to a bed and kept under
with sedatives tends to be worth remembering. Not that this ever happened
to me, I certainly don't speak from experience, but anyone would become
careful about being too lenient with giving away sensitive information
without having the power to protect oneself. There are always those who
wish to acquire what's yours if you can't show them that such a thing
comes with a hefty price.

I assume that this phase of an immortal's existence separates the smart

ones from the idiots. Those who learn to keep their mouths shut are also
those who tend to have long lifespans, eventually achieving their
immortality and godhood.

Tjenemit clears his throat and the room falls silent again. “As for the rest
of you, I am sure that you will manage to do your part in time. After all,
even with the world enchantment guiding you towards possible candidates,
it's not like immortals or mortals who have the potential grow on trees.
Though the world is located on a nexus point, we are searching for maybe
one or two people among a whole world's population, each century! That's
how rare such people are.”

He crosses his arms regally behind his back. “To be honest with you, I
didn't expect this program to yield such fantastic results. I assumed that it
would have to run for a millennium at the very least in order to show
mentionable results.”

That causes some murmurs and stirring among the listeners. Some of
those who looked displeased before seem now outright hostile. Apparently,
they are slowly realizing that this assignment won't end any time soon. In
fact, it is likely Tjenemit will have us remain in our current functions for
as long as this project keeps running. At worst, we might remain bound to
playing gods for the mortals for as long as we exist, with the death of our
current consciousness being the only way to escape this situation.

Such a thing isn't unheard of. It wouldn't be the first time for a bored god
to choose the obliteration of his consciousness and all memories. Some
end up preferring this solution to eternal existence. They return as mortals
to the great cycle of life and death, eventually climbing back to godhood.

“The project didn't run perfectly, I admit that. We had a few severe issues
in the first weeks, and are still experiencing problems with adapting the
world enchantment, but we are getting there.” He laughs. “It's not like we
don't have all the time in the world, right? If anything, then it's time which
we don't lack.”

No shit. From my point of view, it seems like Tjenemit is rushing this

project. There are so many bugs in the World Enchantment that I doubt
that it was ever tested before the Council unleashed it on us. I think
nobody will forget what's hatefully called the '24/7-Incident' among the
pantheon. Being teleported from one worshipper to the other without
breaks isn't a small programming error. Such things only happen when the
people in charge don't even take the time to check their numbers.

I return my attention to Tjenemit, realizing that he continued to speak

while I was lamenting my fate.

“...which brings us to the last point on today's list.” Tjenemit makes eye-
contact with me and I straighten my back, surprised by the sudden change
of topic; which apparently concerns me.

What did I do?

“I've heard that there are two large factions forming on the world. One so-
called Alliance of Light and an Empire of Chaos?” The Council member
enquires.

I shrug, feeling compelled to answer. “You know how these mortals are.
They always find an excuse to form political and moral ideologies which
they can use to draw lines in the sand. Then, they use those to justify
warring against each other. It's always the same spiel. There is absolutely
no reason to be surprised by it.”

“I heard that you are among those who actively support this
development?” Tjenemit continues in a questioning tone.

I wave my hand dismissively and lean back in my seat in an attempt to

seem calm and collected. “I am certainly not supporting my believers.
These things would happen with or without my influence. I admit that I am
shaping their view of me, and the development of their political structures.
But my influence only goes as far as to not allow random cultists or
religious leaders to shape the sheep's thoughts to further their own power
and financial gain.

“If I have to play this role, then I don't want to be seen as some monster or
demon lord, but as a being that can be benign to those who are deserving.
Do you know how depressing it is to be summoned into a sacrificial
chamber each and every day?”

Someone snorts to my left, drawing Tjenemit's attention.

“Not supporting them my ass! You even brought in a bunch of succubi for
help!” Myrm complains loud and clearly. It's the petulant cry of a child
who was outmanoeuvred, but it's not my fault that he failed to secure all
the assistance he could get.

The Council member looks at me. “You brought in a bunch of demi-gods

for assistance? I didn't know that you have such connections.”

Neither did I until I remembered that particular life and checked in on

Ashley, finding her still remembering me against all the odds.

“It's hard to shape an entire nation's religious belief!” I defend myself. “Is
it my fault for having connections and employees? I assure you that they
are just weak beings from the infernal planes. Nothing a god would have to
worry about. They certainly lack the ability to damage the world, if that's
your concern.”

Tjenemit purses his lips and draws out the following three words in order
to gain some time to think. “I suppose not? If they are no danger and are
following your instructions, then that's fine with me as long as you take
responsibility for their actions.” He furrows his forehead and studies the
ceiling. “I suppose I never forbade to arrange assistance.”

“I have all of them quite firmly in hand. They are only using their abilities
to shape the mortals' opinion of me,” I reassure him quickly, hoping that I
am not leaning too far out of the window by vouching for Ashley and her
daughters.

Finally, he concludes, “It just makes me wish that all members of this
project would be dedicated enough to build up an organizational structure
which makes it hard for anyone of mentionable power to slip past their
attention. It's recommendable that you invest so much effort.” His eyes
drift over the other deities. “Most of you just go with the flow, like
driftwood on a river instead of trying to actively steer the boat.”

I nod quickly and bow slightly in my seat. “I can assure you that I have my
eyes on everyone who is a possible candidate for godhood. You will be
informed, should they come anywhere close to ascension.”

He tilts his head and nods slowly. “Just remember to remain passive. I
don't want to wake up and find out that the world went to shit and our
project is busted, just because two deities had an argument.” His eyes
wander over to Myrm.

“I can assure you that I won't act without provocation,” Myrm replies.

“Then stop the provocations from your side,” I snitch. “First, you attacked
one of my most important followers within my own temple, and now you
are sending mind-manipulated spies after my followers. Worse, you
attacked me right in front of a Council member. I think they call such
behaviour being a loose cannon!”

“It wasn't a temple! It was and still is a palace! You are just trying to
misconstrue the truth!” Myrm replies, shaking beneath his armour. “And
it's certainly not my fault if my followers are offended by yours. You said
it yourself, the wheels of fate are inevitable for the mortals.”

“You did something to protect their minds against invasion!” I accuse. “I

don't know how you did it, but it's quite clear that you are actively helping
your believers! No mortal has access to such knowledge!”

“Doesn't that mean that you were also helping yours with the
interrogation? How else would you know that I protected their minds?”
Myrm quickly turns my accusation around, painting the both of us in the
same light. “How would you expect me to do less than you.”

Tjenemit raises a hand to stop us. “I have nothing against a little healthy
competition, but I realize that I have to make the rules a little clearer than
they currently are. After all, without strife in the world, those with power
have no reason to reveal themselves. Just make sure not to raise hands
against each other, and don't start slaughtering the other side's mortals in
great numbers. There is no sport in that.”

“Understood,” I assure him quickly.

Myrm reluctantly affirms Tjenemit of his consent.

To my great relief, the Council member doesn't press the issue further and
leaves the room after a few more questions, each aimed at different
members of the pantheon.

There didn't seem to be any particular interest behind the random topics of
Tjenemit's inquisition.

So I quickly form the opinion that Tjenemit just wanted to make sure that
he addressed each member of the pantheon with a personal issue. He just
wanted them to know that they are being watched.

Now that the nuisance is gone and the first large meeting between the gods
officially ended, I retrieve my ghost cat familiar from beneath my cloak
and rub the little kitten absent-mindedly against my cheek. I was hiding
him as an assurance policy beneath my clothes and intentionally chose to
wear flabby linen attire. I wasn't sure what would happen in this meeting,
so in case that I would have to flee, my pet could have bought me a few
moments to retreat.

The ghost cat isn't on par with a deity like Tjenemit, but after having fed
on my mana for a few centuries, I am relatively sure that it could at least
inconvenience a god of his calibre for a few precious seconds.

Cuddling time is over when a shadow falls on me.

I look up from where I am sitting, just to be confronted by Myrm and two

other deities. Myrm is in his usual full-body armour, which isn't just
useless but surely also uncomfortable. Then there are two others who I
don't know much about. A woman of mixed racial ancestry. Her skin is
slightly yellowish and there are some ridges along the upper part of her
ears which peek out from beneath a brown mane of hair.
The fellow next to Myrm is even larger than the god of Order. His muscles
ripple proudly among his bare chest. A display of manliness I never
achieved. Not that I would ever want to look like a rhino on steroids.
Modern technology can shape a body into almost any form, and most
deities are petty enough to do that, just to caress their ego.

But seriously, why is he running around with his upper body naked? He is
just in pants! Is he trying to start a new trend? Are we switching to togas
in the Crystal City?

I make a show of shuddering slightly as if I were intimidated by their

display. “Uuh... Ooh... guys, you are so menacing, I might have to run
away. This feels like one of those classroom moments when the MC
confronts the local bullies.”

Good. I managed to sound not too mocking.

The woman next to Myrm frowns. “We aren't bullies, we are just here to
ask a question. In our function of representing the light in the world,” she
adds quickly. “You aren't showing your face often enough to confront you
in a less obvious manner. If we hadn't made ourselves known, you would
have just vanished without talking to anyone.”

“Shoot,” I reply and watch them expectantly while I cuddle my pet against
my chest.

“We want you to stop raising that Empire of yours,” Myrm replies.

“No,” I deny. “Are there any other pressing matters I can help you with?”

“Now, listen, asshole. It's because of your religion that people are accusing
me of not helping them.” MuscleBoy stabs his finger accusingly in my
direction. “And pack away that pet while you are talking to us!”

“Now, you can do many things, but don't draw little Claws into this,” I
reply and shelter the kitten in my palms. “He doesn't like being called a
pet by some no-name deity.”
“Didn't you call it Lucifer the other time you were here?” the yellow
goddess asks.

“Possible...” I admit after a moment of hesitation. “He is a pet. His name

is whatever I want it to be.”

The woman and Myrm seem stunned at being introduced to my point of

view on the matter.

“What can I say? I am just not good with names... though I think that I was
better with them while I was in a woman's body,” I mumble. “I think that I
cared more about names while I was Nova... could be some effect of the
different brain-structure, after all, I had this body grown according to
specifications. Or it could be the hormones.” I shrug. Who cares. There is
more important research which I can spend my time on.

“Don't ignore me!” The man stomps his foot. “I am Ardun! The God of
War! Nobody makes fun of me and lives to tell the tale!”

Who does he think he is? He is... what... a mid-tier deity at most, judging
by his soul's aura. This assignment seems to mess with the heads of some
weak-minded individuals.

“Now, now.” I slide into an upright position. “I hope that all of you know
that there is no public fighting in the Crystal City. Any damage caused by
excessive use of force has to be paid for. I doubt that any of you are liquid
enough to afford that.”

Even if most of the stuff in the Crystal City is made out of Mana Crystal
and per definition indestructible, planet included, it doesn't change the fact
that many of us brought stuff from other worlds to this place. And that's
what someone should be worried about. Replacing some god's stash of
ancient artefacts ain't cheap.

At least the girl hesitates, but Myrm and MuscleForBrains don't seem all
that impressed.

He huffs. “Then let's settle this in the closet!”

The woman's eyes widen and she quickly walks over to her friend's side.
“Ardun, are you insane!? You know his reputation! We said that we would
just have a talk. I won't be a part of this if things get physical.”

He wants the closet, eh? I know that the term comes across as a little
stupid, but it's a little insider-joke among the inhabitants of the Crystal
City. If two gods want to settle their differences with a brawl, they lock
themselves inside a room which is completely enclosed in mana crystal,
making it impossible for the damage to affect the rest of the planet.

“Fine,” I reply and get up. “I think there is an empty storeroom just across
the hallway, which should suffice for our level of disagreement, or do you
want to make it public? To be honest, I don't have the time for an official
appointment in the arena...”

The idiot nods and starts towards the door.

“Ardun! I said no!” the girl hisses, followed by a slightly hesitant Myrm
who seems to be torn between joining the foolish brawl and staying back.
Probably he still remembers the incident when I messed him up.

The commotion draws attention from the rest of the room and Seria is
quick to come over. “What's going on?”

“This big and manly fellow challenged me,” I gesture towards the idiot.

Seria just throws a short look at MuscleForBrains and then glares at me.
“No.”

“What, no?” I ask. “Why am I not allowed to accept a challenge? And who
are you to tell me what I can do?”

“It would be unfair.” Seria judges and crosses her arms. “I won't be the one
who explains to Tjenemit that he is down one test-subject because you
took a soul.”

“But Seria!” MuscleForBrain interrupts, but the goddess stops him with a
raised hand. “You are just a mid-level deity. Why are you even picking a
fight with him? Are you stupid? Who egged you on to do this?”

His eyes search the room, landing shortly on his girlfriend, then on Myrm,
but his manly pride doesn't seem to allow him to confess. “Nobody! He
just pisses me off with his Empire! There is no war, so nobody is praying
to me. I only get summoned to some boring wasteland, where goblin-tribes
quarrel with each other.”

I smirk and return my attention to Seria. “What if I promise not to hurt

him? I won't even touch his soul.”

He snorts. “How do you want to fight if you can't hurt me?”

“Let that be my problem.” I reply without looking at him. “So, Seria, how
is it?”

She looks indecisive. “No soul magic?”

“No soul magic.” I nod.

She hesitates, narrowing her eyes at me, but in the end she allows us to
settle our differences.

A few steps outside of Studio 7 and across the hallway is the empty
storage room. MuscleForBrain and I take position in front of the door after
having checked that the room is empty and without windows. We are
followed by Seria, Myrm and the girlfriend, accompanied by a crowd of
interested onlookers.

Smiling, I gesture towards the open door made out of mana crystal, an
original installation of the creators of the city. “Please, have the honour of
going first.” I bow. “I want to make sure that I am between you and the
door. Just don't forget, whoever teleports out of that room loses per
default.”

Raising his head, he huffs and strolls into the room. “As if I would have a
reason to flee. Can't hurt me... laughable!”
Quickly, I toss in my familiar after him and close the door. By leaning
against it, I make sure that nobody can escape the room. Now facing the
crowd, I watch their surprised expressions.

That is, until there is a girlish scream and a mighty roar from the other
side of the door.

Something bangs against the panel, almost throwing open the door despite
my efforts to hold it closed. The people around me take a surprised step
backwards while there are more roars and screams from the other side.
Then there is frantic banging as if someone is hammering his fists against
the closed exit.

Another mighty roar and the door shakes again, almost throwing me over.

And then there is only silence.

“Did, did you just toss your familiar into that room to fight for you!?”
Seria gasps, realizing her mistake. I promised that I wouldn't harm the
idiot. Nobody mentioned that my pet couldn't fight for me.

“Yes,” I reply, but raise a finger to stop any complaints. “Shush! Do you
hear that?”

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

And then again.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Oh, that's music in my ears. It's coming from the other side of the door, so
I open what must have seemed to Lucifer like one of his feeding pens.

Purring, the little kitten strolls out of the room like a king, leaving behind
little red footprints.

Cooing, I pick him up and taste the blood on his paws with a fingertip.
“Urgh! That guy tastes awful! Much too many steroids! Remind me to get
you some natural beef later on.”
 Chapter 27

The World
Willow
“You are too busy to join our monthly women's evening?” A little
dumbfounded, I speak into the communication device which Seria left for
me so that I can reach her. “Can't you come up with some sort of excuse to
delay this report for a day or two?”

Seria never missed out on a meeting in… like… centuries.

I actually can’t remember her ever being absent, even in the olden days,
when some of the other girls were still with us. Just remembering our lost
friends causes my heart to sting. I wonder what happened to them.

For a long time, it was just Seria and me, because we had to kick Nova out
of the club. It’s not like we are strict feminists, but it felt weird having
her/him around. So we held our meetings in secret until just recently
Ashley and Karin joined the club. Now we are four again.

“I am sorry, Willow,” Seria's voice replies from the device. “I am not a

hundred percent sure if anyone reads these reports, but if there is even a
one percent chance that someone important is reading them, then I don't
want to get any heat from that person.”

“Huh, so it's related to the Council?” I conclude.

“Kind of... say... how would you explain a vacation of one or two
decades?” she asks, trying to avoid giving me the true reason for this
report.
There is a nervous tapping sound from the other side of the line as if a
certain someone is punishing the floor with her heels. “Aw... shit! I am just
no good at this paperwork!”

A vacation that lasts one or two decades? Oh, that would mean... I get it.
There aren’t many reasons for an immortal or god to be incapacitated for
that long.

“It's actually not that hard, Seria. Listen, you just have to bury the truth
under so much legal speak that anyone who might read it gives up after
one or two sentences, preferably without having understood what you tried
to say. But you have to leave enough wiggle room to refer to the document
later on if anyone asks you why you didn't share the information.

“How does this sound: Mr. X will be largely absent for one or two decades,
due to the temporary inability to attend the meetings in person, because of
accidental injury. X will sight the video material of important orders as
necessary and make good on the work X is missing out on due to
temporary disability. Once the issue is solved, the individual in question
will return to fulfilling his duties and make good on the lost time.” I
continue to give her some hints on how to formulate the truth as
complicated as possible until I am sure that she has more than five pages
of obtrusive material to review.

“That... actually doesn't sound that bad. And it never mentions that he is
currently deceased. Thank you so much, Willow. Aw, dang! I still have to
find a proper body for reincarnation!” Seria whispers from the messaging
device.

“I know that you can't share much about your work, but I am curious. Is
there a reason why you have to reincarnate this person as a human? I
assume that's why you expect one or two decades as the time of absence?”
I ask.

Of course, there are other options when you reincarnate, like having a set
of personal clones from a technologically advanced world. The only issue
with that solution is that you need a trustworthy soul mage who takes care
of connecting your soul to the new body. But soul mages of that calibre are
rare and most are slightly nuts. Meddling with souls and mind magic often
comes at a price. I am not sure if it’s because of their knowledge, or if
there is some other issue with that kind of magic. So most gods prefer to
reincarnate in a natural body if they have to.

“Hm. What do you mean? I am afraid that I don't understand,” Seria

replies.

“You know some soul magic, right? You mentioned putting his soul into a
fitting body. Take some grown-up vegetable out of some hospital,” I
suggest.

“Can’t do that. I am not that good with soul magic. There are issues if you
put a soul into a body which ‘doesn’t fit’, for the lack of a better term. It
might work for a short time, but the connection between body and soul
will loosen inevitably, resulting in death or insanity. I can do it with a
newborn; the connection isn’t fully formed in that case, so the body can
still adjust,” she explains the limits of her powers.

I can’t help myself, but her explanation just now sounded eerily similar to
what Myrm did with her spies. Could it be that Seria helped Myrm out? If
not in deed, then maybe with a little knowledge?

Pressing my lips together, I try to decide how I should react if this turns
out to be true. But do I really have the right to judge her for that? I know
her well enough to tell that she isn’t the vindictive type and she certainly
didn’t lie about her intention of staying a neutral party between Ascathon
and Myrm.

In the end, I have to admit that I am certainly not qualified to judge. From
what I understand, Myrm was like a progeny disciple for Seria. She raised
Myrm up to godhood from the point of when she discovered Myrm’s
potential. As a teacher, Seria has a bond with her student, so it would be
stupid to blame her for sharing knowledge.

I wonder how Myrm ended up taking her own path? Seria is kind of sore
on that topic and doesn’t want to share the details.
Then I have a sudden idea.

“Why don't you just take some sentient race that grows up fast? It's not
like humans are the only race whose bodies can harbour a soul. How about
a bunny-beastkin? They grow up so fast, from baby to teenager in just five
years. Or how about a goblin? They are like rats. Ten children with a single
birth and they run and talk within the month. Or, I know. How about a
slime? They just split through cell division into two parts, new body,
practically instantly. That would work, right?”

“That’s… brilliant!” There is a squeal of delight from the other side. “I am

not sure if I can pull off the soul-trick with the slime, but a goblin should
definitely work! Sometimes I really fail to see the wood for the trees.
Listen, Willow, I really have to get this done and finalized now.”

“Ah, no problem,” I answer. “I guess I’ll just tell Ashley an Karin that we
have to postpone.”

“That would be perfect. Maybe tomorrow, or the day afterwards for sure.
Bye!”

The line disconnects and I lower the rectangular communication artefact,

studying it. With a shrug, I switch it off by wiping across its surface like
Seria taught me to and pocket the device. I’ll tell the others that Seria has
other issues to attend to when I run across them.

The faint sizzling of the meat in the pan reminds me that I was cooking
when Seria called, so I quickly turn down the heat and check on the
noodles and the vegetables. Today’s dinner will be noodles with meat and
vegetables out of the wok.

“Hmmm.” Ashley’s voice draws my attention, and sure enough, the

succubus matriarch bends past me to snag some meat. “That smells
delicious! Did I mention that it’s sinful for someone with a body like yours
to be a good cook?”

I slap her hand away. “Don’t try the food before it’s on the table!” I move
the large pan and the vegetables into the pre-heated oven to keep
everything warm and out of reach of the succubus. “And regarding our
meeting-”

“I heard,” Ashley affirms. “Succubi have very good ears. I’ll tell Karin
that we have to postpone the meeting once I get her from her mission.”

I nod. “Which sort of mission did you send her to?”

“Assassination.” Ashley smirks. “We managed to track the spies’

connection to a fairly neutral city between the borders of the Alliance and
our Empire. So far, neither of us found it necessary to exert political
pressure on the small city-state, which is run by a local nobleman who
thinks of himself as a king. As it turns out, the Alliance was using our
lenient trading policies with this ‘neutral’ party as a way to get messages
and people in and out of our territory. In light of this new development, we
decided to investigate and found out that the local government isn’t as
neutral as they claimed.”

“So you are ending our partnership with them in a permanent manner?” I
ask.

“Yes.” She nods. “It’s not certain which way their ruling body will swing
after their leader is out of the way, but Luxley organized some troop
movements close to the border. We are hoping that this demonstration of
force, combined with the untimely demise of their king, will sway the city
council. We’ve sent some informal letters, inquiring about their political
disposition. The hope is that the city will come over to our side once their
ruler is dead. It would be preferable to a violent conquest, especially since
the Alliance wouldn’t be able to protest without making fools of
themselves.”

“Okay, have you seen Ascathon? We should eat before the noodles get too
cold.” I take the pot with the noodles off the hearth and use a prepared
colander to get rid of the water.

“I think I saw him disappearing in his laboratory a few hours ago. It’s
reasonable to assume that he is still there,” Ashley gestures in the
direction of his workshop.
I sigh. “Yeah. Once he starts working, there isn’t much that can distract
him. We better go and rescue him from starvation.”

Being in accord with each other on that point, we head out of the kitchen
and towards Ascathon’s workshop.

When Ashley and I first met, there was a little bit of tension between the
two of us. The succubus matriarch wasn’t sure what Ascathon saw in me,
someone who seemed like a lowly mortal to her. For that very reason, she
tried to test me with various provocations when we were alone and in
private.

Normally, I am no snitch, but Ascathon is putting a lot of effort into

keeping me a secret from the Council. As I am now, I can't challenge
Ashley, so I had to get help. It took only a little clarification from
Ascathon's side that I am off-limits, and a potential god, should I ever lose
control over my carefully contained powers.

That was enough to stop any teasings from Ashley’s side and since then we
arrived at a guarded form of friendship and acceptance of the other party. I
don’t like people with a personality like hers, the kind who want to test out
the limits of their comrades. But she is nice to Karin and teaching her a lot
when Ascathon or I don’t have the time, so I let her character flaws slide
for the most part.

We arrive at the workshop, a large tear-shaped cavern which points with

its tip towards the living areas and the rest of the complex. What most
people don’t know is that there are several hidden floors which house
Ascathon’s more dangerous experiments.

“I can’t see him.” Ashley surveys the area, pulling thoughtfully at her
lower lip.

“There is red light coming from further in. I am sure he is messing with
the magma chamber,” I point out.

“A magma chamber?” Ashley asks. “I knew that this facility is

underground, but I didn’t realize that we are that deep. When I open
portals, I mostly rely on mana signatures and planar wave-lengths to
pinpoint the exit location.”

“Oh, it’s quite deep. We would be crushed and cooked if it weren’t for the
facility’s containment fields. In fact, we are close to the planet’s liquid
asthenosphere which is just a few kilometres away. A magma channel is
feeding directly into the magma chamber and then proceeds further
upwards to some volcano on the surface,” I explain as we walk. “The
facility is using the energy to keep this place liveable and Ascathon is
using the magma chamber to conduct some high-energy experiments from
time to time. He is fascinated with the secret behind mana crystals. If you
trigger him, he will hold you a lecture on his theories, but don’t expect to
get away before the day is over.”

Ashley rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the warning. I think that I can live
without broadening my horizons.”

We arrive at the furthest part of the workshop which is also the most
spacious one and in almost direct contact with the magma chamber.

Ascathon is standing in front of a large window which uses not glass but
an energy field to hold the heat outside the facility at bay. He himself is
also contained by a separate energy bubble which holds his completely
released aura at bay. Something the facility itself wouldn’t be able to
handle, so I assume that he put that one up on his own, not wanting to
damage his equipment. His figure seems to consist of nothing but sparks
of blue and red energy. Then he notices us and shoots us a glance, his eyes
pools of dark nothingness within the light of energy around him.

I am glad that he is somehow limiting the effects of his aura, or the both of
us would be trembling on the floor.

“Is it something important?” he asks, his voice coming out of a speaker on

the wall.

“We wanted to ask if you want to eat?” I ask.

“Hey, why did you never do me in that form?” Ashley puffs out her
cheeks. “Just looking at you turns me on.”

Typical succubus. I snort.

“You wouldn’t last an instant,” he replies and retracts one arm from the
energy field of the window. Behind it is a chamber of super-heated plasma
inside the magma chamber. Retrieving a red mana crystal from a table
next to him, he inserts it into the chamber. “Just give me five minutes. I
am rounding this experiment up and I was preparing the spell for hours. It
would be a waste to stop now, not to mention that I would have to release
the stored energy into the surroundings. That would probably cause an
earthquake and a volcano eruption on the surface.”

“Oh, joy. What are you doing?” I ask. Searching our surroundings, I find a
set of protective gear and retrieve two darkened googles for Ashley and
myself to protect us from the bright light. With that, it’s a little easier to
see what Ascathon is doing.

“I am trying to enchant a mana crystal which contains a soul's anchor,

changing its nature. My current theory is that mana crystals are nothing
but extremely condensed energy. A state of matter which would only exist
in neutron stars, but somehow locked in place and disconnected from the
normal laws of gravity and space, or everything would blow in an instant. I
am trying to reshape this piece of mana crystal and give it a new purpose,”
he explains while casually wielding energies that would probably fry
Ashley and me within an instant.

“Why do you need the soul? For power? And who is it?” Ashley inquires.

“Hahaha. No. The soul is certainly not for power. I am just using it and its
memories as a blueprint for the organic enchantment which I am trying to
imprint on the mana crystal. I want the thing to gather energy and grow
over time. Unfortunately, I am afraid that the soul in question will pay
with all its powers and memories. But don’t worry, it’s just some asshole
god who offended me while he was standing right inside one of my traps.
He will certainly be a mortal after this.”
He raises his hands and blue sparks of energy dance from his fingertips
and over the crystal’s surface. Slowly, it changes its form from a rough
arrowhead-shape towards an elongated polyhedron with a nine-cornered
base.

Laughing in delight, Ascathon retrieves the object of his research through

the energy field. He waves his hand and two large blast-doors close slowly,
shutting away the brightness of plasma and molten lava. Then he begins a
tedious process of slowly lowering his own protections without impeding
the facility, using a set of energy conversion spells to lower the
temperature on his side of the protection field.

Finally, he is able to lower his aura and to dispel the protective bubble,
looking normal once more.

“May I present to you, Inglorium!” As if it were a newborn, he raises the

polyhedron which is made out of blue mana crystal and floating freely
between his palms. I can feel the energy pulsing within it.

Ashley coos appreciatively. “It’s pretty, but what does it do?”

That puts a stopper to Ascathon’s mood. “No- nothing. At the moment. I

still have to verify that the enchantment was applied correctly.”

“A glorified paperweight?” I ask teasingly. After a few hundred years, I

stopped counting how many of Ascathon’s promising experiments shared
that exact same fate.

“Certainly not!” He walks over to a table and places the crystal on top of
it, where it stays upright, balancing perfectly on its tip as it slowly turns
around and around.

Just watching it makes my spine crawl with unease. I can tell at a glance
that this artefact is powerful. Maybe Ascathon wasn’t so wrong about
giving it such a haughty name. “So what does it do?”

“For the moment, it just does what it does. Like the floating and glowing
thing.” He flicks it with a finger and the crystal tilts over but rights itself
fairly quickly to its previous position. “But that’s just testing phase one.
Once I have verified that the enchantment on it isn’t degrading, I’ll lower
it down into the planet’s core where it has direct access to the nexus point.
It will absorb energy and grow.”

“Grow into what?” Ashley asks the question which is also on my heart.

“A palace worthy of me, of course. A base of operations like no other. An

eternal monument to the rise of my power.” He hesitates for a moment. “A
monument to the end of the Council’s rule.”

“Quite the plan, is it not?” I tease, hoping that he didn’t get a serious case
of megalomania.

He nods. “It is. But it’s also far in the future.” He runs a finger across the
crystal’s surface. “It will take centuries for this to be ready. Don’t think me
a fool for wishing to throw off the Council’s rule. I am playing the long
game here. One way or another, even if it takes millennia, there will be a
day when my palace will rise, and it will be the day theirs will fall.”
 Chapter 28

The World
Karin
“Don't worry, lad. This old man will find the rest of the way on his own. I
thank you.” I crunch up my wrinkled face in an attempt to smile at the
guard who showed me the way to the central marketplace. Reaching
behind myself, I take one of the ripe apples. “Here, take this as thanks. It's
been a while since I made this trip. Normally, my grandson sells the apples
on the market, but you know the young folk. He preferred to run off in
order to become a soldier or risk his life in some other way. Some people
just can't settle down before they have lost a limb or two.”

The guard nods and jumps off the cart, ignoring my offering. “Just stay out
of trouble, old man. And remember that the gates close at sunset. You have
to be out of the city by then if you want to return to your village. The rules
are a lot stricter since the Empire started moving their forces around. Once
the gates are closed, they stay closed until morning.”

“Sure, sure.” I wave him goodbye as he starts jogging back to his guard-
house, the old man who couldn't find his way probably already forgotten in
the city guard's mind.

I wait until he is around the corner of a nearby side-street and stop

smiling.

These people are worse than children for allowing someone to enter the
inner city as easily as that. All it took was to buy an apple-cart with a load
of decently looking fruits and play the senile apple farmer from the
countryside. If I do it right, I may even be able to walk into the palace
itself.

Aren't they afraid of skinwalkers? If one of those monsters got this far, it
would have practically free reign until most of the citizens are dead.

Raising the apple to my mouth, I take a generous bite and study the market
in front of me. There are vendors of various sizes all over the place,
praising their goods. Most of the ones in my immediate surroundings offer
various meats and vegetables, although, further ahead it looks like there is
some sort of cloth-section.

Holding the cart's reins firmly under control, I search for a place to get rid
of the goods. The more mysterious my actions in this city are, the better.
Ashley said that she would watch and grade my performance.

A chance presents itself when I notice a rather large stall with various
vegetables. But what draws my attention aren't the goods, but the vendor
who pays attention to my cart with an appraising eye.

Stopping the cart, I slide off the driver's seat and approach the man, trying
to look old and fragile, but this time without giving the impression of
being with one foot inside the grave like I did with the guards.

“Hello, name is Lars from Reynolds Farm.” I offer him my hand, assured
in the knowledge that I did my research about this region before I took on
this mission. “Know a place where I can sell this cartload with high-
quality apples? I can promise that all of them are hand-picked directly
from the tree. They won't rot or spoil easily.”

“From the Reynolds farmstead? I know of it, you sell high-quality stuff,
but aren't you normally providing other towns with your goods? Reynolds
is big and well known, but you are quite a distance away.” The vendor
carefully raises his hand to shake, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Yes, yes. You would be completely right in a normal year.” Closing the
rest of the distance, I take his hand in mine and we shake while I cast a
subtle spell of befuddlement to calm his mind and to ease his doubts,
letting the mana ooze out of my palm and into him, relaxing his muscles.

“You can't imagine how good the weather has been this year downriver. It
was perfect for apples. So much so that we are drowning in them. The
master even ordered us to throw anything of lesser quality away, just to
keep the prices up and not to tarnish our name when it's not necessary. We
have so much high-quality harvest that it's even feasible to transport some
of the excess further upriver, even if the journey takes a few days.” We
keep shaking hands during the entire negotiation process, as it is custom in
these lands.

Not entirely taken by my story, the man narrows his eyes. “Hm. That
sounds too good to be true. There must be a catch, and I can hardly believe
that goods like fruits would be undamaged after a transport by carriage.
Especially not after such a distance.”

I nod. “That's right, good sir. But tell you what. Even if you just pay me
fifty silver for the whole load, you will still make quite a bit of profit and
the journey will have been profitable to my master. You can pick out the
good stuff and throw away the apples that don't make the cut for people
with higher standards.”

“Hm. Prices must have dropped quite a bit if fifty silver pieces are worth
that journey,” he replies.

“That they did, as I mentioned, and the labour of a lowly serf isn't worth
much these days since our economy tanked. Most of the smart people are
trying to get over the border, no matter which side. So, do we have a deal?
You have until tomorrow morning to sort out the cart, then I'll make my
journey back to the master's estate. Have to stay within the time frame, or
it's back to manual labour for the poor old me, instead of driving a cart.”

We haggle for a little longer, but in the end, I get my fifty silver for what
was originally worth a hundred. Well, before I drove it through half the
city-state, just to have a legitimate reason to enter the town.
Money in hand, I excuse myself while one of the vendor's employees gets
tasked with sorting out the cart. Holding my back, I wander off, implying
that I would have a look through the town before sleeping in some cheap
inn.

Once the store disappears in the crowd, I change directions once more and
wander closer to the city's central palace, presumably with my target
inside it.

Captivated by the nice architecture, I marvel at the sight of what I had to

observe from afar up until now. While the rest of the city consists of plain,
white buildings, the palace is a work of art with long archways connecting
several towers, decorated with golden domes which sparkle in the sunlight.

It's a much different sight from what I am used to. Compared to my poor
village and the town in another world, this land lives in excess and luxury.
It would be a shame if the city got destroyed in the war between the
Alliance and the Empire.

Before I know it, my exploration has taken me along the palace's outer
wall and away from the market into a street. Apparently, it's forbidden to
build too close to the palacewalls, or to set up shop, because there are no
buildings which would make it easy to get into the palace.

“Look what we have here. Grandfather, aren't you a little too interested in
the palace?”

Turning around, I find myself facing two palace guards in shining armour,
much prettier than the plain leather armour of the city guard. Their armour
is pure plate-steel and polished to a shine. The only thing they forwent
were their helmets because of the summer's heat.

“I am sorry, good sir. I am from the countryside, and thanks to fortunate

circumstances and my lord, I got the opportunity to travel to the capital.
It's the first and probably last time for me seeing something so grand and
marvellous like the palace,” I justify myself.
The other guard snorts. “Just make it quick, Serdas. I'll continue the
rounds so that nobody gets edgy, while you explain the rules to the old
man.”

They seem to be on a tight schedule. If they turn out to be as strict and

thorough as they ought to be, then this mission might be quite difficult.

“Yeah, yeah. Just see to it that the others don't start bitching.” Guard one
waves his hand, shooing the other away.

His companion shrugs and passes me without giving me a second glance.

Apparently, patrolling along the wall and being back on time is very
important.

“Now back to you, grandpa. There are strict rules about coming too close
to the wall. Anything closer than five metres, and you have to pay one gold
if you are caught.”

I try not to look too surprised. “One gold! But I don't have that kind of
money!” Quickly looking up and down the street, I make sure that we
aren't watched. I could pay the greedy guard of course, but that would raise
other questions. My current persona doesn't exactly look like it would
carry gold coins around. And one entire gold? That's just too excessive.

There is nobody around, aside from the other guard who is slowly
disappearing around the soft curvature of the wall. A black cat is lying
stretched out on a windowsill, lazily watching the street with half-closed
eyes. This might actually be an opportunity. In any other situation, I
wouldn't try to wing it, but there might be no better chance to get taken
into the palace's dungeon. Once inside and past the inhibition field that
stops spies and assassins from teleporting in, I should be able to find an
opening to exploit.

“Aaah...”

Trying to sound desperate, I run for it.

The guard easily catches up and rather roughly kicks my legs out from
beneath me. A little surprised at his violence, I fall and catch myself just
in time with the palms of my hands, scratching the fragile skin.

“Oh, I love this part of the job.” He kicks me in the side, causing me to
wince because of the unexpected vehemence. The bastard isn't holding
back at all. If I were a real old man, I would have broken ribs for sure!
Then he rolls me over and pulls me up at my clothes, pushing me against
the wall.

“He- Heelp!” I scream.

“Don't bother, grandpa. The people in this street all know the game.”
Grinning, he backhands me right across the face, rocking my whole head
to the side.

Looking at my face, his expression suddenly turns from excited to

disgusted. “What the?” He looks at his glove, which is covered in a slimy,
red goo.

I reach up to feel my cheek, just to find that a rather large patch of the old
man's skin came loose and is now hanging down, still partly attached to
my neck. It most likely reveals a large part of my real face beneath the
stolen skin.

“What the fuck are-”

Kicking out, I sink my knee into his crotch. A pained cough and a
wheezing breath escape the man as I grab the metal of his chest piece by
the neck and whirl him around, pushing my hips against his. Having the
perfect grip for a hip-throw, I catapult his whole body into the air and
bring him down onto the ground, fully intending to shatter his bones in
return for hitting me. He lands rather roughly on his back, having the air
pressed out of his lungs.

“Sorry, but it's your own fault that I have to change my plans. If you hadn't
done this, I would have allowed you to capture me.”
Snorting, I mount him and straddle the man between my thighs. As he tries
to sit up, I force his shoulders back to the ground and shut him up by
pressing my lips against his, inhaling deeply.

It's not that bad if I just imagine slurping up a bowl of soup while I use the
spell, and he wasn't exactly a nice person. Even so, I feel myself getting
horny as I suck out the man's life by using a reversed form of healing kiss.
Damn all succubus magic to hell!

***

Above them, the black cat flicks an ear while watching interestedly as one
of the metal men flails in his last throws of death, reminding the predator
of a twitching mouse to play with. Although, the old geezer who is biting
the metal man feels too dangerous, his suppressed aura very obvious to the
sensible animal.

Once more bored when the last twitches and shakes rock the metal man's
body, the cat goes back to sleep.

***

Five minutes later and having gotten rid of the old man's skin in a nearby
dumpster, I try my best to sort out all the leather straps which held the
guard's armour together. I probably look like a new recruit who is trying to
put on plate armour for the first time.

Somehow, I manage not to look like a total newbie by the time I reach the
other guard at the palace gate. Still, he and two other guards frown at me
as I approach.

“No captured peasant, Turin? What took you so long? Don't tell me you
are getting soft in your old days. Or did the geezer give you trouble? You
look rather dishevelled, man. How did you get that dirt on you? That's
sitting too losely!” The man who was on patrol duty with 'Turin' steps
closer and reaches for one of the leather straps on my chest-piece. Pulling
at it rather forcefully, he tightens the armour around my chest, making it
feel like a corset!
Sucking in a sharp breath, I try to make my chest as small as possible as it
is squashed against my ribcage.

“Just a little. He ran and was faster than I expected, the little weasel,” I try
to sound embarrassed and filled with rage in an attempt to play the man's
character as best as possible, the short interaction with him being my only
hint. “I fell and he got away. Have to send out a patrol! He was probably a
spy in disguise!”

The other guard rolls his eyes. “That's Turin for you. Maybe you shouldn't
play games with everyone who gets close to the wall. Your behaviour is
why you have patrol duty around the wall out here with us, the least
important job of all. And if the old man really was a spy, then he is
impossible to find by now. Probably just a near-sighted peasant like he
said he was. In both cases, it would be a huge waste of time to start a
manhunt. He didn't even touch the wall.”

I press my lips together in a thin line and try to look displeased in an

attempt to play the ignored guard. Which isn't that hard, considering how
my boobs are currently having a bad time.

The next time I get, I'll drop this persona without a second of hesitation.
Oh, I should have used real body-shifting for this mission, but I am still
too afraid to do it without Ashley's supervision.

Allowing them to laugh at my cost, I stand there and wait until they decide
to continue with their duties. The two men who waited at the palace's
entrance start walking away, taking a route along the palace's walls.

Following my own colleague, I enter the palace's property past a group of

guards in very decorative costumes, likely elite soldiers who are in charge
of the gate. Unlike our armour, theirs is embroidered with fine artwork.

I feel a surge of energy as I pass into the energy field which stops all
teleportation into or out of the palace. It was the reason why I had to go
through this convoluted plan to enter the city. In their fear, the leaders of
the city erected a magical barrier to prohibit most forms of magical travel.
Flying or teleportation close to the palace is really hard because of the
interference. Inside the palace it is impossible, not to mention the really
strict screening methods of the local guards.

After several of Luxley's agents had failed, Willow decided that this would
be the perfect opportunity to test my abilities.

Huffing, I lament the fact that either of my three teachers could have just
walked into this palace and beheaded this so-called king. I think his name
was Urisk. Not that it matters. He will soon be no more than a footnote in
history.

I follow the other guard into the palace and further to a guardroom where
we get rid of most of our gear, while I try to look like I am brooding,
hoping that nobody strikes a conversation with me. While my Skin-Taker
spell should be able to fool almost everyone, as I literally take on the flesh
and skin of the target, I don't learn much about their behaviour and
memories.

Should someone get the bright idea to strike a conversation with me, it
wouldn't take them long to find out that something is wrong with me.

While my colleague gets busy with his bedding, taking one of the eight
spartan beds in the room, I excuse myself with the intention of taking a
leak. Thankfully, the man just grunts and ignores me.

Ignoring him, I leave the room and trail down the corridor we took to get
to the palace's quarters. This area is clearly reserved for the military
personnel. A stairway provides me with an easy way to get deeper into the
palace, but I run into a dead end when a pair of palace guards bar my way.
They are in even fancier armour with gold plating. Definitely higher
ranked than the one I have. They are protecting a door that looks like it
would lead into the inner palace.

A simple guard in charge of the outer walls wouldn't have access to this
area, so I don't even try approaching them.

When I notice a maid in a fancy looking dress, a slight smile twitches

across my face. She came out of a door right next to the guards, probably
some kind of servant's entrance. More importantly, the guards didn't pay
her any attention, so I quickly follow her into some sort of storage room.

Having a goal in mind, she purposefully heads for a broom and a bucket
and jumps when I close the door behind myself.

“I have a question.” Stepping closer, I smile and take her hand, applying
the same confusion spell which I used on the shop owner in the market.

Then I reach for my forehead, dig my fingers into the skin and pull off my
face. Well, at least what she perceives as my face.

She opens her mouth to scream, but combined with my influence and the
unexpected situation, the mental pressure proves too much for her. Her
eyes roll upwards in their sockets and she faints as I catch her.

Working quickly, I get rid of the guard's identity and store the now naked,
unconscious maid in a mostly empty closet, piling the guard's leftovers on
top of her. Then I get to work, using real body transformation to change
my features in an attempt to look like her. She is young and female, so I
am not too worried about changing something I can't undo. Contrary to
changing into a man, impersonating another woman is really easy.

Less than two minutes later, equipped with a maid uniform and a few
illusions to look pristine, I stroll confidently past the guardians and into
the inner palace. One of them looks at me but doesn't pay me any more
attention after recognizing my face.

From there on out it turns out not to be hard to find my target, who is
lounging on the balcony of an empty throne room. Smiling, I approach the
middle-aged man and compare his features to the picture I got from
Willow, just to be sure. It would be a shame to go through all of this, just
to kill the wrong person.

“My king, I was told you need something,” smiling, I try to put Ashley’s
training to good use as the man notices me. Approaching, I move exactly
as she taught me to. According to her, a woman's movements can be as
hypnotizing as a spell.
The king's eyes immediately slide up and down my figure and I am sure
that I have him when his eyes stay stuck to the tight-fitting fabric of the
maid uniform's chest area.

He starts stuttering, “I didn't- ahem- I- blergh!”

Now close enough, I strike out, jabbing my fingers into his throat.
Squeezing, I open up the major arteries as blood wells out from between
my fingers and his eyes quickly flutter shut. Without blood pressure and a
constant support of oxygen, the brain quickly ceases its functions. I never
experienced it myself, but a physician back in the other world told me that
its one of the less frightening ways to part with the world.

Having seen many horrors in my two decades of life, I can only agree to
that assessment.

He lets out a gurgling breath and then the king crumbles like a puppet as
his shocked muscles relax. I quickly take his hand and pull the twitching
corpse back into the throne room, fearing that some random onlooker
might have seen us on the balcony.

Ashley told me to make a spectacle of the king's death. To show the city
officials that the Empire isn't to be played with. But she never said that the
man would have to suffer.

Sighing, I pull the corpse with me, trying to remember Ascathon's lessons
about subtle magic and Ashley's teachings on succubus art-forms.
Together with Willow's instructions on fairy-magic I should be able to
create something that all three of my teachers can be proud of.

Let's see, I have a ton of blood...

Looking back at the trail I made with the king's body, I remedy that. I have
a lot less blood...

But there are plenty of organs and flesh... oh, and bones. Ashley said to
never forget the bones.
 Chapter 29

The World
Seria
“… and that’s pretty much how the mission went. I used the king’s remains
to create a reversed succubus attraction spell, which means that anyone
who sees the remains will be so abhorred that they have to flee the room.
The place will give anyone who enters it the creeps until the components
rot away. Unless they find someone who can dispel the enchantment,
which is unlikely,” Karin finishes her explanation as she sorts through the
cards in her hands. “I mean, the spell isn’t perfect, but to dispel the effect,
most mortal enchanters would have to get close to the source, and that’s
unlikely.”

“Don’t be so humble. You did great work on your first mission.” Ashley
waves her hand. “Everyone, you must watch the footage later. Our little
Karin is quite the artist. It’s your turn, by the way.” The succubus looks at
me and combs her fingers through her hair.

Nodding, I look through my cards and consider my next move. I managed

to deliver the report in time, so two days later the four of us finally got
together for a girls meeting. Karin also just returned from her mission
after she escaped from enemy territory.

Taking a look at Ashley’s side of the playing field, I judge her current
board-state to pose no threat. She has a few creatures and artefacts, but
nothing that looks especially threatening. I untap my cards, then draw.
“You know. That neutral country was probably the only reason why the
world is still in peace. Without strong leadership, it’s very likely for the
city officials to fall apart. We should prepare for the possibility that some
of their civilians will just flee over the border.”

My draw is a mere land, so I grimace after taking a look at Willow’s side

of the table. She has only one enchantment on the playing field, but it’s a
good one. Worse, she is still sitting on most of her life-points because
nobody managed to attack her successfully. Every time someone attempted
a shot at her, she had some way at hand to prevent the damage, either by
destroying the attacking creature or by using some combat-trick.

“We know, but it would have happened sooner or later,” Ashley admits.
“To be honest, I don’t think this war can be avoided, so it’s better that we
fire the first shot. If the plan succeeds and the government decides to lean
in the Empire’s direction, we may even be able to save a large part of the
civilian population. It would certainly be better for them to be counted
towards either of the two sides, instead of being caught in the middle.”

I nod and gesture for Karin to take her turn. “Go, girl. You better find
something against Willow’s Bargain, or we will have a bad time once she
untaps.”

Karin narrows her eyes and leans over to read Willow’s card. Willow and I
are just in the process of teaching the others our traditional game, so we
decided to have some fun with our most broken decks. Her eyes widen
when she reads the card. “It costs six mana and you can pay one life to
draw a card? That’s O.P.! Oh, but you have to skip your draw step.”

“Who cares? She can draw half her deck next turn.” Ashley picks her nose
in a rather unladylike manner, studying her own hand for a solution. “You
better use that magical eye of yours, Karin. Or that next turn will get nasty.
I could draw some cards next turn, trying to search for an answer.”

Yeah, she will most likely draw her combo and kill all of us before Ashley
gets to do that. Aw, if I had kept that counterspell up when she played the
Bargain. I could have lengthened the game by a few turns at least. Maybe
it’s better that way. The others won’t learn to keep up their answers if we
instruct them on every little detail.
Karin purses her lips and looks through the cards in her hand. “I don’t
think that I have something. Willow took away my disenchant before she
played that enchantment.”

Yep, she did that because she wanted to keep it in play. Discard spells
which allow you to look at the opponent’s hand are quite powerful if the
person in question knows how and when to use them. She targeted Karin
because neither Ashley nor I play the right colours to have a solid answer
against an enchantment.

“And don’t act like my twenty-sided eye is almighty, Ashley. It only

allows me to see possibilities, which doesn’t help much if I am unfamiliar
with the game’s rules.” She caresses the top of her library with her fingers
and draws a card. “Ha! Top deck! That’s what you are supposed to say
when you draw the solution. Am I right?”

Slamming her hand down, she smiles victoriously, revealing a white

knight in shining armour. “Protection from black! Let’s see how Willow
deals with that when her whole deck is black!” The girl nods and taps the
required mana.

“Uuh! Nice card,” Ashley compliments. “I am sure he will save you with
his white steed.”

I facepalm. Teaching those two the game might take a little longer than I
thought it would. Willow’s Bargain won’t give a shit about a single
creature with protection when she gets access to her whole deck.

“Your turn.” Karin gestures smugly for Willow to take her turn and the
elemental smiles. Then she gets going.

“Untap, and I pay twenty-five life to draw twenty-five cards!”

I watch, a little bored, as she counts the cards into her hand and starts
sorting them. This will be a long turn, which will decide whether she will
win or lose.
She taps down her lands, generating tons of mana for her spells. “Black
Lotus, Dark Ritual, Lotus Petal, Sacrificial Altar. I play ‘Skirg’ and
discard all those cards for mana...”

Now it gets complicated as she starts adding the numbers.

Pursing my lips, I study my hand. The only remaining possibility to win

this is for Willow to make a mistake.

“Twenty-eight mana. Down to twenty-five for playing the ‘Will’ for

graveyard interaction. Nets me back up to fifty-two mana. I play Mirari to
copy Drain Life on you, Karin. You lose thirty life and I gain thirty. Then I
draw the rest of my library, which brings me back down to ten. Now I can
discard all those cards for mana.” Her expression turning smug, she turns
to Ashley. “The copied Drain Life is for you, Ashley.”

The succubus furrows her forehead as she tries to follow what Willow is
doing with her cards, from her graveyard, and exiling them in the process.
Adding the numbers, the succubus takes her time to follow Willows
actions. “But that kills both of us! Show me that card which allows you to
play cards from your graveyard. Who designed this shit? You can
essentially do what you want once you have all three of those cards in
play!”

“Yep. My whole deck is about assembling this combo. And brings me back
up to sixty life! Thank you very much.” Still smiling, she turns her
attention to me. “Torment of Hailfire on you. For thirty!” She starts
giggling madly as I lean forward to read the card. I wondered what she
would use on me with her ‘Drain Life’ already used up.

“Repeat the following process X times...” Either discard a card, or lose

three life, or sacrifice a permanent. I shake my head. She found another
stupid card for her Black Ritual deck. I wonder where she got it from. Is it
from Ascathon’s collection?

“Nope. Force of Will.” I reveal the counterspell, which I get to cast for
free if I pay one life and discard a card. It’s sad that I have to discard my
epic planeswalker for that, but better that than to die on the spot.
Willow stops laughing and furrows her forehead. Her eyes wander from
her now diminished hand to her empty deck. She is still sitting on a ton of
life, but what use is that if you have no more cards to play and are tapped
out? “Why didn’t you counter me sooner!? I could have played more
carefully!”

“I only had this one counterspell. Maybe I would have countered the
Bargain if I weren’t tapped out at that point. But I didn’t want to discard
and get even more card-disadvantage. Now you forced me to. Thankfully,
you got so full of yourself that you had to use up all your resources.
Thanks for killing yourself, and for the win.” I grin.

“Ooh.” Karin rubs her temple. “I think this game is just too complicated
for me… there are so many rules, and all of them can change with a card. I
see how it’s useful to teach young magicians the basics, given the mana
system. Isn’t this just what Ascathon likes? Are you sure that we shouldn’t
invite-”

Both, Willow and I jump up.

“No!” “Never!”

Karin shrinks back in her seat. “Whoa, guys. Don’t crucify me. It was just
a suggestion.”

“This is the women’s only evening,” I explain. “And you have no actual
clue about the freakout party Ascathon would throw if he finds out that we
are playing MtG without him. He is a damn cultist when it comes to this
game. Playing with him is no fun. No fun at all!”

“A really, really bad idea,” Willow replies quickly. “I don’t know what he
would do if he finds out that I took some cards from his collection.”

I gasp. “You did what!?”

“Just a Necropolis and a Pit, that’s all. He will never realize that he doesn’t
have the full playset. The cards in his ring binders are all stacked on top of
each other, so even if he has a nostalgic day and goes looking through
them, he won’t find out,” Willow babbles.

I huff. “You should have just told me. We could have gone and raided
some version of earth for the cards you need.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise to you! And I can’t exactly
move between dimensions on my own,” the elemental complains.

Ashley leans forward. “So, you were talking about the ‘Power Nine’
earlier. Which dimension do I have to go to in order to get those?”

The World
Ascathon
A cold shudder runs down my spine, and I have to sneeze as something
tickles the inside of my nose. Someone must be talking about me. Where
are the others? Then I remember that it’s that day of the month when all
the women in my life take a hike for the hills.

“Maybe I should consider changing back,” I mumble, but quickly get rid
of the thought.

After rubbing my nose, I return my attention to my minions, king Luxley

and the religious leader of the Order of Chaos, Barnabus. After a decade, I
finally bothered to remember his name.

Both of my servants aged over the years, but they are still holding up. It’s
always the same with mortals. Just when you finally decide to remember
their names, they are about to croak. I hope that I get at least seven or
eight decades of service out of them.

Ashley is such a dear for organizing that harem of former maids for
Luxley, so we certainly won’t run out of heirs.
“… so the diplomatic relationships between us and the Alliance are
breaking down. They know that we were responsible for the assassination,
but they are too afraid to move openly against us. The mere fact that we
managed to follow their spy’s trail is enough for them to hesitate,” Luxley
finishes his explanation of the recent developments.

“I don’t get why they don’t just declare war on us. It’s not like there are
any other great powers who could have a decisive influence on the
outcome of the war,” Barnabus grumbles.

“They are afraid that we could have some sort of proof. Whatever they say,
if they start the war and we are able to provide their more pragmatic
factions with the information that their leadership was plotting this from
the beginning, it might cause some internal conflicts which could weaken
them in the long run.” Luxley rubs his hands together. “There are always
dissidents who use great ideals to weaken those in power.”

The leader of the Order of Chaos harrumphs. “Whatever. We are ready!

Once those infidels take one step across the border, we will bathe them in
their own blood. No mercy for those who violate our territory. Their
weeping women can have the heads of their husbands in a box.”

I sigh audibly after listening to their bickering. “Do whatever you want.
Just make sure not to waste my efforts. If it turns out that giving your
scholars all that knowledge was in vain, I won’t be very pleased.”

Feeling tired, I excuse myself from the king and his bloodthirsty battle
priest. The war should begin any day now and it’s likely to be a very
bloody and long affair.

Scratching my cheek, I follow a pathway back to my workshop but can’t

summon the will to work on one of my projects. After arduous testing, I
finally decided to plant Inglorium directly on the Nexus Point next to the
planet’s core. With that long-term project launched, I feel a little uncertain
about what to do next.

It’s a little aggravating to have so many resources without the knowledge

of what to do with them. I could always spend more time on the problem
with the World Enchantment, but the more research I do, the clearer it gets
that there is no solution without sacrifices. Sacrifices which I am not
willing to make at the moment.

Well, if nothing else, then it’s time that I have at my hands. Giving myself
one day of vacation certainly won’t change the world. Right?

Whistling, I stroll towards the room where I store my cards, a hobby I like
pursuing no matter the reincarnation. Before I became a god, I had to
reinvent the game in every world I visited, but now that I can jump across
the dimensions with a mere thought, it’s no problem to get myself some
original cards. I may even visit some version of earth to get the latest set!

Arriving at the hobby-room, I enter and open one of the cabinets,

retrieving one of the many binders in which I store the rarer cards.
Humming, I begin looking through the cards with the intention of building
some funny deck and to test it.

That’s when the door opens and I find Willow standing in the door-frame.
She is clothed in simple jeans and a shirt, a real stay at home attire if I
compare it to her usual clothes. “Willow, do you need something?”

She steels her expression into a smile and straightens her backs, entering
the room with long, sauntering steps. “Yes. I was looking for you.” She
smiles and reaches for my shirt, pulling me down to kiss me full on the
lips while she rubs her hips against mine.

Furrowing my forehead, I try to think of a reason for her aggressiveness

while I hold onto her waist.

Reaching down, she closes the binder and pushes it aside, then she
positions herself in front of the table while she fiddles with my trousers.
“It’s been a while, and all those succubi are hogging your time. It feels like
you are failing to pay me the attention I deserve.”

“Oh? I don’t remember you being so aggressive, Willow. You know that I
am not the guy for that kind of relationship.” Yeah, at least not if there is
no real feeling of companionship involved.
Getting rid of her own trousers, she turns around and captures my erection
between her legs while she guides my hands to her perfect assets.
Something tells me that there must be a reason for such an aggressive
behaviour, but then she starts grinding her backside against me and I groan
involuntarily.

Even after having it done with a succubus, I have to admit that this woman
has skills.

“Yes!” Leaning forward, she rocks back and forth until she curves her back
just right. Pushing herself back, she captures me inside her. Having almost
forgotten how good she feels, I push her down onto the table and hold her
hips in position as I start moving.

The World
Ashley
“That’s so unfair!” I whisper while I gnaw on my fingernail and watch the
pair as I peek around the doorframe’s corner. “The minx gets to have fun
while we have to watch! Why didn’t she say that her plan of distraction
involves fucking his brains out? I would have been the better choice for
that.”

“Sh! What if he hears us?” Seria asks from above me. “He would certainly
get suspicious if he found out that we were in his hobby-room!”

“I think my Obfuscation Charm is going to hold.” Karin clears her throat.

“Ahem, and Willow is doing quite the job at keeping him distracted.”

“Still,” I complain. “She just went and took all the fun!”

“Master is probably getting off on it,” Karin grumbles. “The thought of

getting caught is likely giving her a thrill. She is that kind of person.
Probably being watched is another kick for her.”
What? Willow is that kind of gal? Why did I never notice? She is playing
nice and meek all the time when I am around. Damn it! I am really getting
old.

“Who would have known that he'd be done with king Luxley that quickly,”
Seria grumbles. “Almost caught us in the act.”

“Oh,” I chuckle. “He at least caught one of us in the act.”

“That’s dirty, Ashley,” Karin reprimands me, sticking to her strange sense
of morals.

“I think Willow has his full attention,” I whisper. “Should we try putting
those cards back into the binder?” And if he notices, I could try to turn this
into a fivesome. Though, Karin and Seria probably won't go for that kind
of fun.

“Not yet,” Seria grumbles. “Let Willow get a little roughed up until she
manages to get him out of that room. It was her stupid idea to take the
cards in the first place. The least she can do is to pay him a lease for
borrowing. I really hope he decides to use that amulet until she is out of
stamina points! That will teach her a lesson.”

“Okay.” I better make it a rule to never make Seria angry. The woman has
the mentality of a succubus.
 Chapter 30

Somewhere in the Multiverse

Seria
I enter the Eithen’s laboratory, studying the sophisticated technology
which is filling the place. There are machines and equipment all over the
place, from the most basic stuff to bubbling tubes of which I can only
guess the purpose. To the side, there are various cages with animals of all
forms and sizes, a zoo of brilliant colours and unique properties. Even
though the equipment is high-tech and most of it eludes my
comprehension, it's quite clear that this laboratory's goal is genetic
research.

“A nice work environment. It's actually been quite some time since I
encountered technology of this level,” I compliment the creature who is
playing tour-guide for me, ignoring the fact that the others of its kind are
keeping a respectful distance.

The Eithen who is in charge of the negotiations – one of their thinker-class

– turns on its three legs, moving the barrel-like torso so that it can inspect
me with its multiple eyes. The creature clicks with its tentacle-like feeding
appendages, it’s language being translated by a box-like device on top of
what could be called the creature's head. “Thank you. It doesn’t happen
often that we meet polite beings like you, who are interested in our unique
arts of gene sequencing. In general, the other races tend to shun us, once
they learn about the focus of our research.”

I wave my hand, hoping that the Eithen recognizes the gesture for what it
is. “Don’t fret over it. Let’s just say that I expect you to be able to fulfil
my requirements for a mutually beneficial trade.”

The Eithen folds all three of its main-arms against its torso; the meaning
comparable to a human's bow.

“Though, it’s hard to understand why an extra-dimensional being like

yourself would require our services, especially in such a strange manner.
The other races would never pay us for something like a custom-designed
virus. I am curious. Wouldn’t your race be quite capable of achieving your
wishes on your own?” The creature continues onwards to an oval-shaped
tube with a containment field around it. “It's quite the task to trust
outsiders with a project of that scale. Aren't you afraid that this virus could
be used against you and your own?”

“Do you know the term: outsourcing?” I ask. “And no. I am not sure what
your government told you, but bodies are nothing more than clothing to
people like me. We can discard them and acquire a new one, should there
be a need. Deploying a highly effective virus against me might work in the
short term, but only until my now body is strong enough to take revenge.
One could say that that I ordered an expensive dress from your
government.”

There, that should be sufficiently close to the truth in order to not trip their
lie detectors, while being vague enough at the same time to be worthless.

“You mean, like buying the workforce of another clan?” the Eithen asks.
“And yes, they mentioned that you are an extra-dimensional traveller, and
not necessarily what you seem to be.” The Eithen spreads two of its three
arm-tendrils in a helpless gesture, trying to mimic my own body language.
“I was just surprised about the scale of this project when it came up in my
schedule. Apparently, you made the contract with my predecessor a decade
ago. He retired four years ago.

“Imagine my surprise when the computers scheduled my timely

appearance for this rather obscure project. As a project-supervisor, I am
not much better than the average clergyman, because there is simply no
way for me to know all the different projects which are running in this
facility. Clearly, I know of the larger projects, and since this one required a
sizeable percentage of our think-factory's resources, I was quite aware of
the project's existence. Still, I was surprised to learn that the contractor
who requested this project turned out to be an alien of unknown origins.
You are not N'gath, Zar or Isea, or any race I have ever seen. Your body is
similar to a Siltsch, but the proportions are all wrong.”

The Eithen uses its main-arm to snatch a tablet from on top of a monitor
which apparently controls the containment field with my project inside it.
“A virus which is capable of terraforming a planet, given that there is
enough living bio-matter available. It should be able to use the genetics of
several intelligent bipedal species and mold them into one race, preferably
conserving their features within family units. Let me assure you that
cramming all of these aspects into one was quite challenging. This wasn't
an easy task, but after a decade of research, we are finally confident in our
ability to deliver a satisfying result. But instead of a single virus, we
designed several different ones, with the goal to work in tandem.
Something that works on plants and mushrooms, as well as animals, is
almost impossible to come up with. Rest assured, though, that we are able
to deliver the desired result. May I ask what you intend to do with this
virus? I hope that you are aware of the moral issues since this will require
the genetic blueprints of the creatures you wish to use.”

Gods, the little guy isn't standing much higher than my chest, but he sure
has a lot to say. These people are difficult. Why couldn't I just find some
dimension with a race that would take my deal, give me goods, and say
goodbye? Ciao, was nice to make business with you. Let's not see each
other again, ever!

Despite my aversion to making small talk, I smile. “Certainly. I intend to

create a world of my own, but I lack the knowledge of a bio-engineer.” I
stop, trying to think of a satisfying explanation. “Think of me as naturally
gifted in interdimensional travel and energy manipulation. I handle Life
and Death in a more primordial manner than you are used to. From time to
time I meddle with various fields of science, but I am not an expert in
anything.”

“Primordial?” the Eithen asks. “You mean the government's ridiculous

request to transplant our civilisation into a less hostile part of the
universe?” It looks down at the tablet. “Whoever made this ridiculous
request was insane. As if anyone or anything could perform such a feat. I
mean, our civilisation is restricted to our sole home-system, but there is
the homeworld and three other colonized worlds, together with a whole
bunch of space-stations further out in the belt. We are sitting on a
population record of seventy-two billion citizens. Relocating our whole
civilisation would be a racial effort which even the N'gath wouldn't be able
to accomplish. Even if they suddenly decided to deploy their whole fleet,
bomb two of our three planets into nuclear dust, and evacuate just the
third. Normally, I would have thought that the government is screened for
insanity.” The creature bobs up and down a few times, showing its
inability to comprehend the information it was given.

“Yes, like souls 'n stuff. You have a concept of the energy fields of all
living things?” I quickly fall silent and abandon that line of inquiry when
the Eithen looks at me as if I am a newly spawned baby.

“Just don't worry about the details of the contract or my ability to deliver.
It took me a few weeks to convince the officials from a decade ago to
agree to develop this virus for me. It took them even longer to work out a
contract that wouldn't be superseded by their successors a few years later.
That's why I requested for this research to be undertaken as a semi-private
project,” I grumble. “You have no idea how bothersome it is to negotiate
with mortal beings. Now that I think of it, why don't you engineer your
bodies to live forever? You certainly have the necessary technology at
hand.”

The Eithen waves his tablet around. “Our star system is surrounded by
aggressive species. There is no room to expand without risking a war that
could mean our end. Since we are suffering from population pressure as it
is, it would be stupid to lengthen our lifespans. It would slow down our
random evolution, making us vulnerable to biological attacks from an
outside enemy. As it is, we assure that each individual has a guaranteed
lifespan and the opportunity to procreate. If we gave ourselves infinite
lifespans, our numbers would quickly grow to a point at which this solar
system's resources are incapable of supporting our numbers.”
It stops speaking and studies the tablet, then looks up to me. “If I may ask,
how old are you?”

Normally, I would answer with something like: ‘You don’t ask a woman
her age!’ But the Eithen have no concept of this basic courtesy. Hell, they
don’t even have genders.

“I actually stopped counting at ten thousand,” I reply.

“Years!?” the Eithen squeaks.

“No. Lifetimes,” I clarify. “How often I changed to a different body, which

people like me only do reluctantly, or through force. Actually, I am quite
sure that I am older than this universe.”

The Eithen stays silent and suddenly finds its tablet to be very interesting.

I ignore him for the moment, thinking of their society and their
communistic way of dealing with shortened lifespans. I am sure that if
they were a little more aggressive, they could easily use their population
to pressure and ultimately overrun their enemies. As it is, they are
dooming their civilisation to stagnate. The least they could do would be to
pay some of the other races to grant passage through their territory in
order to launch a colonisation effort.

But what do I care? This is just one world out of many which are filled
with mortals. Mortals in strange bodies, but still mortals. Just because
their souls had the misfortune of landing inside strange and inconvenient
bodies doesn’t make them any more or less valuable to the grand scheme
of things.

I just chose them to do my bidding because their situation made them

susceptible to striking a deal while assuring that they would pour
sufficient effort into this project. If they manage to deliver, it's fine. If not,
I just have to search the multiverse for another option. I have the time to
wait.
“In any case, you have detailed explanations on the deployment of this
virus?” I ask.

“Oh! Sure.” The Eithen pulls a transparent Data Crystal out of the tablet
and hands it over... tentacles it over? I am not sure. His arms have so many
segments that they seem like tentacles, but I know for a fact that there are
bones inside, so they are definitely not tentacles. His arms are like those
highly sophisticated robot-arms from modern factories. Actually, the
Eithen may have even designed their bodies to be like this. They have the
ability.

The Data Crystal is a clear tube which is about the size of my finger. It's
standard technology, so I pocket it to read through the instructions later.

The Eithen gestures at it, apparently unsure whether I know what to do

with the information storage device. “You are familiar with the
technology?”

I nod. “Standard Data Crystal. Pretty common among the technological

civilisations in the multiverse. Somehow, most of the thinking beings
come up with similar solutions to a problem.”

“Multiverse?” it asks.

Ah, damn. Why do I keep spouting stuff which allows the Eithen to
continue the conversation? “Yeah, like in universe, but with 'M', like more
than one,” I reply. “How would I be able to watch a universe to come into
existence and die, if not by watching the process from another universe? It
would be pretty unpleasant to be present while the soap-bubble ‘pops’!”

The Eithen have no neck, but I can’t shake the feeling that the creature just
swallowed uncomfortably.

“Sorry. I still can't believe the report from the archives.” The Eithen points
at the Data Crystal. “This has the detailed user manual for the virus and all
our research data, should you want to modify it at some point. What it
comes down to, is that you have to release this on a planet with a decent
amount of dead or living bio-matter. Which means plenty of water, carbon,
and some other elements. Preferably including enough living micro-
organisms and every genetic sequence you want to have on your custom-
designed world. Then you just have to lean back and watch. The mutagenic
abilities of the virus will weaken and completely decay over time, so you
should release any animal you want on the planet within a one-year time-
frame to guarantee that the virus includes it into the planet's ecosystem.”

“So, put everything I want on the planet's surface, smash the tube, and
wait. That's simple enough for even me to understand.” I nod.

“You should probably avoid exposing yourself to the virus,” the Eithen
adds, his voice indicating that he still isn't sure of what to think of me.
“It's quite volatile during the first few weeks,” he adds helpfully, like a
parent for the first time giving a knife to his or her child, adding the
hopeful instruction not to cut yourself.

“Don't worry.” I point at myself. “Confirmed multi-dimensional being,

remember? If the stuff gives me the sniffles, I'll just discard this body. In
any case, I think you more than fulfilled your side of the deal. But maybe
you should consider using the virus on yourselves, those bodies of yours
look quite uncomfortable. I once tried a non-humanoid body, and it was
horrible. Seriously horrible. Like putting on my panties backward.”

“Panties?”

Before the Eithen can continue, I release my aura, stretching my

awareness out over time and space, touching the network of pathways and
becoming one with everything in the area. Slowly, I allow my energies, my
essence, to permeate the whole network. Instead of just using the pathways
to slip from one place to another, I enter the Eternal Planes within the
network while staying in place. A place where time, space, and dimensions
have no meaning. Pouring more and more of myself into the network, I
take complete control, tightening my ethereal grip until I am everything
within and beyond their solar system.

Once I am sure that I have a firm hold, I yank everything with me across
space, time and dimensions, switching it out with another plane of
existence.
Assured that I succeeded, I slowly disentangle myself from the network.
When I return my awareness to my own body, I realize that all the Eithen
in the room, and probably on the whole moon and beyond, are on the floor
and trembling.

“Hey?” I nudge the creature with my foot. “You should be okay. It was just
a little aura pressure. I fulfilled my side of the deal. Should we go outside
and take a look?”

“Y- y- y- y- es!” The Eithen's communication device stammers, seeming a

little bit broken.

It takes a few more seconds, but eventually, the Eithen and its clansmen
get back to their feet. Silently, I follow their slightly disoriented bodies out
of the research complex, and onto a busy street with numerous people of
its kind, all pointing at the night sky, where a previously non-existent
nebular is spanning the firmament.

My contact is lost for words until he points at the nebular and then at some
of the stars. “I don't understand. This is the Prad-Nebula, but it shouldn't
be this bright! In fact, it shouldn't be visible to the bare eye. Yet, these are
clearly familiar star constellations! What did you do?”

“I shifted this whole solar system into another dimension and exchanged it
with the one that was previously here in this one. Makes the whole process
easier if I stick to the 'Preservation of Mass' thing. Bending the laws of
physics is exhausting, so if I shift as much mass back as I brought here,
there isn't so much of a strain. This is essentially a younger version of
your old universe, just that it started developing later. That has the added
benefit that your competition hasn't yet evolved in this universe. You have
the entire place to yourselves, at least this galaxy. I think you have
neighbours three galaxies over, but it's unlikely for you to ever meet
them.” I smile.

The Eithen looks at me. “W- w- why?”

“Oh, it's just that most technology-based civilisations wipe themselves out
at one point or the other. There are several evolutionary bottlenecks which
could be called technological singularities. You already avoided a few of
them, but the better you get at technology, the easier it gets to trip at one
point or the other. If you aren’t immortal beings of energy with an infinite
amount of attempts at learning, you will have an accident that ruins your
day sooner or later. Sorry, nothing against you guys, just a rule of thumb.”

I click my tongue, chiding myself that I already invested too much time
into these mortals. “Yeah, well, I’ll just take what I am owed and leave.
Have a nice life then, I guess. It’s unlikely that I’ll come around to take a
look at what became of you within your lifetime.” Maybe I’ll take a look
in a million years and try to puzzle out what happened to them by studying
fossils… or something like that.
 Chapter 31

The World
Ascathon
Sleep. Precious, eternal sleep. It has been so long since I slept the sleep of
the righteous. Grumbling in appreciation, I shift and pull Willow closer to
me, her naked form being the perfect body pillow to ward off a lonely
night.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Nooooo…

Not now! “Stay away, Lucius...”

“Miau!”

The hinges creak slightly as the accursed cat prods the door open to gain
entry into my bedroom. There is the soft ‘click, clack’ of a cat’s claws on
the stone floor, and then something hops onto the bed and runs across my
body.

I decide to ignore the little bugger.

It moves up to my head, tickling me with its whiskers. “Miau.”

Just ignore it! I have to keep my eyes closed, showing that I am sleeping,
then he will go away on his own.
A cold nose presses against my cheek and I shudder. Turning away from
the mischief-maker, I try to get just a few more minutes of sleep.

Again, it moves up and down on top of me, little claws digging through the
blanket, working me over like an acupuncture treatment. At last, Lucius
decides to bring out the big guns and moves back up to my head, licking a
wet and rough tongue over my ear.

When I continue to play dead, it moves over to my hand and bites into my
finger, softly at first, but applying more pressure by the second.

“Fine!” I pull my hand away before Lucius can break the skin. Then I
shove the ghost-cat away, who had decided to take the shape of a large
Norwegian Forest cat in order to bug me.

His goal accomplished, Lucius morphs back into its little kitten-form,
losing its ghostly shape to reassemble itself into a new one.

I get up and cover Willow the blanket.

Five minutes later, I am fully clothed and ready to feed Lucius his milk;
pure essence, fresh from the teats of a dragon. Boy, it was hard to get a
steady supply of that stuff. Lucius lives on pure energy, so normal food
wouldn't have much value for him. With a bit of catnip added to his
breakfast, I leave my quarters and run into Karin on the central corridor.

Her face lights up with mischief when she sees me. “Hi, did you have a
good night’s sleep?”

She wouldn’t ask that if she didn’t know that Willow and I did it like
bunnies last night. Just you wait, little trainee. “I had a perfect night. You
should try it once in a while, a little relaxation here and there wouldn’t be
a bad thing.”

“Ah, yeah… better not,” she replies, quickly losing the wind in her sails.

Okay. Maybe poking my finger directly into one of her social scars wasn’t
the nicest thing to do. “Hey, do you want to accompany me on a quest?”
“A quest?” Her expression turns immediately wary. “If it’s the kind where
we journey out into the wilds of some foreign place just to get me thrown
in front of some monster, then no!”

“Relax.” I wave my hands to dismiss her suspicions. “It’s nothing like that.
I just thought that you may want to accompany me to the lower levels of
this facility. I need to search for some books.”

“Books?”

“Yes, books. I borrowed them a long time ago, and I figure that it’s time to
return them to the owner since I learned everything I could from them.”
And after a decade, it’s probably safe to return to Alexandria’s library. If
not for purely sentimental reasons, I could at least try to search for some
more literature on world enchantments while I am there.

Karin tilts her head from side to side as she thinks about my proposal. My
promise to stay at home must be a big bonus point in favour of joining my
quest, but what finally does her in is her own curiosity. “Lower levels? I
didn’t know that there are lower levels.”

“Oh, but there are. Or did you believe that I would store the really
dangerous experiments in my workshop?” I ask.

“Yes,” she replies instantly. “The fusion bomb in the left corner strikes me
as pretty dangerous!”

I wave her off and blow a raspberry with my lips. “There are far more
dangerous things out there in the multiverse than a little bomb that sends
you onwards to the next reincarnation. Come, let me show you the lower
levels. It’s time for you to learn about a few things, and maybe, afterward,
I will even teach you some mental techniques to reach the immortal-stage
a little quicker.”

“Really!?” Drawn in by my offer, she follows me down the corridor and

towards the dead-end at the far side, lying opposite to my workshop.

I tap the wall with my palm, popping out the secret code lock.
Karin gasps when she sees it. “Something like that was here the entire
time? You haven’t even secured it with magical wards!”

I shrug. “The wards add another layer of security once someone finds this
entrance. This here is enough to fool most people away. At least those who
are capable of magic. They are so focused on using the magical arts that
something simple, like an unguarded mundane security system, doesn’t
even occur to them.” Proceeding, I punch in the code, opening the door to
the hidden elevator.

We enter the elevator and I notice that Lucifer joined us on our little tour
of show and tell.

“I suppose you want me to stop at your feeding pen?” I ask my familiar.

“Miau!” the kitten confirms my suspicion.

“Okay, first stop, Lucifer’s private playground,” I announce and punch in

the necessary security code.

“Aren’t you afraid that someone who realizes that there are more levels in
your base would just teleport in wherever he wants?” Karin asks, raising a
valid point regarding my security measures.

“Yes. That’s why the whole base is shielded against teleportation and the
use of pathways. There is a general interference field which messes with
anyone who tries to reach the living area. Only people who were taught to
adjust their teleportation magic in exactly the right manner can reach this
place,” I explain. “Then there is a separate security layer for this restricted
research area. Pretty much nothing can get in or out easily. Even I would
have issues with leaving.”

We arrive at Lucifer’s pen and the elevator’s doors open, the two silver
panels sliding smoothly to the side.

What’s revealed is purest darkness. The light from the elevator shines into
the room, lighting up a few meters of a dark cavern.
It’s impossible to tell what lies beyond the darkness, but Karin takes a step
back when something moves just at the edge of the light. “What’s that? It
makes my skin crawl.”

“All sorts of horrible things which I let loose in here. Don’t worry, Karin.
It’s a while yet until you are ready to test your powers against the things
which I locked away in this pocket dimension.” Looking down at Lucifer, I
nudge my lazy pet with the tip of my boot. “Get going! I hate it when they
try to get in here. It’s always such a mess.”

Finally, Lucifer decides to stroll into the room, and I mash the button to
close the door.

“Pocket Dimension?”

“Yes. Just like the rest of this base. I had to make sure that the things
which I locked in here stay where they are supposed to be.” Finally, the
door closes and I sigh a sigh of relief. “No slime or other gooey secretions
to clean up today.”

“Ah, what exactly did you lock in that space?” Karin asks.

“Mostly things that pissed me off and were too hard to kill, those kinds of
things. Over the millennia, I encountered some creatures which would see
you as nothing more than an appetizer. In some cases, I managed to subdue
them, but couldn’t find a valid way to kill them off for good. I mean, how
do you kill a Lich who bound his memories and personality to his family
bloodline? If you kill him, he reincarnates in one of his descendants. Their
memories and ego are replaced by him.

“Soul magic doesn’t work, because he quite literally sold his soul to a
devil, and all that’s left is an alter-ego which thinks it’s still the original
person. I would have to find a way to travel back in time and to stop him
from ever selling his soul, or I would have to wipe out three-quarters of
this planet’s population because their great, great… something-grandfather
was an insane necromancer.
“And I am really not willing to find out how to kill him. There are better
things to do. Heck, I am not even sure if he is still alive. Maybe one of the
other inmates ate him? He tried to rush into the elevator for the first few
centuries after I imprisoned him. Now that I think about it, he hasn’t
shown himself in quite a while; and I haven’t encountered him in the
world either. Maybe one of the others really managed to off him for good.”

“That… it seems reasonable to lock a thing like that away,” Karin replies
after a moment of consideration.

“Okay, we probably should get on with it,” I touch the control panel and
bring us down to the next level. “This one is a little safer. I conducted my
experiments on World Enchantments in here,” I explain as the door opens.

We step onto a seemingly endless field of grass. About five metres ahead
is a table with a ritualistic circle drawn on it. The table is hewn from black
marble and was a gift from my grandmother in this life. She was a good
person and taught me most of what I now know about soul magic.

Or should I say that she re-taught me? Once I became a god, I later found
out that I once already knew quite a lot about soul-magic. It’s just that I
had lost those memories somewhere in the course of my many
reincarnations. It's the reason why I took to soul magic like a fish in water.

The soul and the mind are a complicated thing. While the soul can
theoretically hold an endless amount of information, the mind is limited.
It’s like having a local hard-drive which can hold several terra-byte, while
most of an immortal’s memories are stored in a cloud with the capacity of
petabytes. In a natural reincarnation process, you don’t have all of your
memories right from the start. An immortal gradually awakens to them
over time, eventually reaching the limits of his organic brain.

“It’s huge!” Karin looks around, searching the horizon for structures. “Is
this a hologram, like the beach scene in the bath?”

I chuckle. “No, certainly not. This is a really large pocket dimension,

spanning several hundred square miles. I needed an enclosed space which I
could purge at a whim if things got out of control. Testing self-replicating
enchantments, and especially purging them, is really complicated and
dangerous.”

I approach the table, making sure that there are no lingering effects from a
previous experiment. Once I am sure that it’s safe, I hand Karin Yahwe’s
book “Enchantment 101 for dummies!”. There are several dozen different
tomes along with magical compounds and ingredients on the table, and I
take my time sorting through them, passing Karin everything that should
be returned to Lexi’s library. Her library was like her soul, and she would
want it to be complete. I don’t want to know what she would do should she
ever return and find her library in an incomplete state.

What if she actually remembers that I have those tomes? Well, some of
them I secretly ‘liberated’ from her shelves, but I wouldn’t be surprised if
she has a way to track them, should she realize that they are gone.

“Enchantment…, The Voinich Manuscript, The Honorius Codex,

Galdrabòk, Ars Notoria, The Soyga, The Necronomicon, THE
DÆMONIUM… Ascathon, what do all these things have to do with world
enchantments?”

“Hmm. Some of them have nothing to do with world enchantments.” I

search the rest of the table but find that I went through all of the old books,
having loaded Karin with eleven different books. “To be honest, some of
them are total rubbish… like that one! The Necronomicon; don’t ever try
to learn necromancy from that shit. The guy who wrote it included so
many superstitions in the text that any young necromancer who reads it
will be led astray for centuries until he or she realizes where things went
wrong.”

“Okay, but you haven’t answered the previous question.”

“Right. World enchantments are a very complicated matter. I think I

already explained how they are essentially just miniature enchantments
which use the latent mana in the air to replicate. A very nasty idea, and
almost impossible to get rid of. I searched those other books for ideas on
how to dispel a world enchantment because, to be honest, I still have no
clue how to do it properly.” I shrug and gesture for her to head back to the
elevator, whose door is embedded in a large, white obelisk which emerges
from the otherwise empty landscape.

She turns around and heads back, carrying the books. “What would be an
improper way of dispelling the World Enchantment which is holding you
and the others?”

“One way would be to design a World Enchantment of my own which is

aimed at dispelling other magical effects. The downside is that I would
have to make sure that the effect reaches every nook and cranny all over
the world. Designing it to only stop after it detects no more targets is
potentially dangerous since I have no clue if there are places in this world
where the magic can persist. My base would be just one such example. If I
were to go that route, I would have to scrap this place for sure. Not to
mention that it might not work. Or worse, it does work and renders
everyone on the whole world incapable of using magic ever again!”

“I thought this place is heavily defended and warded.”

“Yes, but when I designed it, I had no clue how world enchantments
operate. Tjenemit bound the world enchantment to freely replicate as long
as its within the unique influence of this world’s nexus point. Which
means that other worlds are safe, just not this one. When I entered this
base after I was cursed by these idiots, I brought the World Enchantment
with me inside.”

We enter the elevator and I give in the code for our next destination.

“Where to now?”

“There is one more stop before we head back. It’s the lowest level. There
are more, but I’ll show you those another time,” I reply.

The door opens, and Karin has to squint her eyes against the bright light
that enters the elevator’s cabin. “What’s this?”

“Extradimensional Research!” I exclaim as I leave the elevator.

“I feel sick, like something is trying to warp my innards and my mind at
the same time.” Karin leaves the elevator, her face turning green. She
studies the rip in reality in the middle of the large cavern, which is
contained by force-fields and several rings of spinning energies in blue,
red, and black.

“Just don’t barf on the books. As I know Alexandria, I bet they are
originals and priceless.” I walk forward and reach the pedestal which is
located in front of the magical construct. On it, is a large tome, its pages
constantly flipping over, seemingly going in both directions without ever
reaching the beginning or the end of the book. Just looking at it creates a
nauseating effect.

“You still haven’t explained what this is,” Karin prods for an explanation
as she steps next to me. She manages to take a look at the wildly changing
runes inside my book, but has to quickly look away.

“It started out with me taking personal research notes. Then it ballooned to
a research project about my own nature. I wanted to understand my place
as a god and myself. For that purpose, I created something that reflects my
nature and opens a pathway to a plane which is like me. Did Willow teach
you about the colour-wheel of magic, and it’s meaning for the gods?”

Karin nods. “Every god's nature is different. How much power you have
depends on how much you believe in yourself, and how much insight you
have into your own person. There is a wide variety of aspects a god can
personify, and the more a god realizes his own nature, the more powerful
he or she gets.”

I nod and slowly close the book. With it, the rip in reality closes, the rings
of spinning energy closing in on the thing which shouldn’t exist in this
world until everything is a small pinpoint of light. And then it’s gone as
the book’s binding falls shut, a small magnetic lock closing the tome to
everyone who has no right to read it.

Lifting the big book in its black blinding, I wrap it in red cloth for
protection.
“So what was the place beyond the portal? It felt terrifying. Like stepping
into it would be my complete unmaking.”

“That’s probably because you aren’t meant to be there. It’s unlikely that
you share my nature. Every god’s nature is different.” I purse my lips and
heft the book beneath my armpit. “You have to discover your own nature
on your own. That’s something nobody can help you with. Actually, when I
stepped beyond that gateway, I found myself in a place which was
disgustingly familiar. Some may want to stay in the place that reflects
their nature forever, but it wasn’t for me. It felt too right.”

“So what was it?”

“It was neither a place nor a time. It was nothing and everything, neither
good nor evil, neither dangerous nor inviting,” I turn to look at her,
grinning. “I guess the most fitting way to describe the place beyond the
portal would be 'Primal Chaos'.”

We return to the elevator and I enter the code to bring us back to the living
quarters.

“So, how would I go about discovering my own nature?” Karin asks.

I scoff. “Girl, first we have to get you to the confirmed immortal-stage.

Then you can try to discover your nature. And before you ask, no, I have
no clue what you could be. Seeing how you took down your village, you
could be a deity of revenge, or a maiden of insecurity because you don’t
want to enter a relationship with the other gender. Your nature depends
entirely on yourself. Heck, for all I know, you could turn out to be the
goddess of fluffy feelings and happy unicorns.”

I wince, realizing what I just said. “No. Forget that last one. Unicorns are
actually pretty scary. Karin, take this advice, and never mess with
unicorns.”
 Chapter 32

The World
Seria
Myrm hadn't gotten any worse since I decided to take action against her
deteriorating mental state. Sadly, she hadn't gotten any better either and
was still stubbornly fixated on her personal crusade against Ascathon who
she perceived as her personal archenemy.

It wasn't that much of a surprise that the latest political ploy of Ascathon's
minions was like a slap to her face.

The assassination of Magnolia's king, a little, neutral patch of land

between the Alliance and the Empire came as a surprise to the Alliance.
They thought that they had covered their tracks well enough, right up until
King Lucius responded with force.

Myrm thought that she had the little city-state in her pocket and with it a
perfect way to infiltrate the Empire. I chuckle at remembering the
expression on her face when she read the message while I was in her
office.

But their leader's death caused a complete turnaround in Magnolia's city-

council. Within a few days, which is practically overnight on a political
time scale, the city's remaining leadership closed off all friendly
connections with the Alliance. The Alliance's agents and operations were
kicked out, leaving only a small diplomatic core in the city.

Together with the returning exiles, the Alliance's government got a nice
little letter. Its contents were an elongated rant about how Magnolia would
return to its valued neutrality, honouring the old ways of its wise and
peaceful ancestors.

I assume that Myrm's original plan was to abuse the Empire's weak
military defences along Magnolia's border in a Blitzkrieg manoeuvre.
They would have marched unchallenged through the neutral country, aided
by their spies' intelligence.

The only problem was that the Empire had noticed this plan and reacted by
amassing troops of their own on their side of Magnolia's border.

I chuckle involuntarily upon studying the map which I have on the wall of
my little domicile. It's located on a patch of land which is floating freely
in the skies above the world, a little trick which I learned from my father a
long time ago.

The leadership of Magnolia saw the war between the Alliance and the
Empire coming from afar, which would have made their intelligence and
foresight commendable. Sadly, they failed to honour their neutrality.
Staying true to their outward ideals wouldn't have guaranteed their non-
involvement in the war, but it would have been the safer bet in my
opinion.

Myrm is an idealist and so are her followers. It's true that the Alliance
reached out to Magnolia's government, but had the king simply said no,
Myrm would have stayed away.

With Ascathon and his puppet, Luxley, it would have been a different
story. They certainly wouldn't hesitate to overrun a little neutral country it
there was any benefit in it, but they also wouldn't unnecessarily go out of
their way to wage war on everything in their sight just because they can.

Had they insisted and honoured their neutrality from the start, I am sure
Magnolia's strategic position would have been unimportant enough to stay
out of the line of fire, even in an all-out war. They would have been pulled
into the war eventually, but it would have been a slow and gradual process.
There are far more important resources and natural strategic positions to
hold than either the Empire or the Alliance are able to take care of in their
current state.

Magnolia's leadership created an easy opportunity to exploit by inviting

the Alliance in. With their own actions, they created the very situation
they wanted to avoid. Now, instead of being a neutral country, the city-
state is caught between the front lines of both sides' armies.

Magnolia's territory would be turned into the first battlefield of a war with
an indeterminable outcome. In their desperation to safeguard their home,
they doomed what they wanted to protect.

Both sides had access to vast resources and manpower, their populations
roughly equal from a military point of view. Each also had a god on their
side, an immortal being which guaranteed a steady flow of knowledge and
good advice.

I knew Ascathon had a slight edge in that department. There was hardly a
being in existence who could challenge him on the fields of the
technological sciences and magic.

On the other hand, Myrm was no slouch either, and I have no doubt that
she would bring in assistance from other worlds, should her people turn
out to be in need of education. Ascathon had already taken this step. Also,
Myrm herself was a genius when it came to biological and genetic
research, which meant that she could rival Ascathon's ability to share
arcane knowledge.

I already dread the thought of the both of them teaching their followers
ways to utilize nuclear warfare or to deploy purpose-built biological
weapons. Once those gloves came off, the world would quickly turn into a
wasteland.

This place was never really peaceful, and somehow there was always a war
to fight. But somehow the inhabitants of this world had always lacked the
means to do permanent damage.
Well, there was this one incident in which Ascathon's former alter-ego
blew up the centre of the continent; which was originally called the
Eternal Battlefield. Now they call it the Blight because nothing grows
there. The radiation poisoning is still strong enough to kill off even plants.

As it is, things could get nasty very quickly even if there are only mortals
involved on both sides. With two or more immortals entering the playing
field, I wasn't quite so sure that the world itself wouldn't suffer. After all, I
was quite certain that Myrm had managed to rally at least some of the
other deities of our impromptu pantheon for her campaign.

There were three or four who I am sure are firmly in Myrm's camp, aiding
her in one way or the other.

I have to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Looking around, I leave the small bungalow on the floating island. It's not
much, just a little single-story abode with four rooms, kept in an eastern-
style. Made out of wood, it's located in the centre of the floating island,
which isn't much more than fifty metres in diameter. A few steps through
the perfectly maintained garden take me to the edge.

The little robot which acts as my gardener ignores me, busy with
maintaining some flowerbed.

Looking down at the world, I start wondering why anyone of my calibre

would concern her- or himself with such a little ball of dirt.

The answer is: Nobody.

Aside from the youngest and the weakest of the gods, none of us would be
bothered by the fate of a single world. That's why the Council's actions
bother me. I understand that they wish for control, but why in this manner?
They surely aren't concerned with the mortals, or Tjenemit would have
stopped what's developing between Myrm's and Ascathon's followers.

What they must be after are the potential new gods, but why? Because
nobody would mourn for them if they joined the ranks of those who
mysteriously disappeared? Because one thing is certain, the Council's
control will slip further out of their fingers the more gods go missing. Our
personalities are cut out for survival, so most of us duck their heads and
disappear inside some hole when the shadow of disaster looms over their
heads. But if things go on like this for much longer, people will start
thinking that it's only a question of time before it's their turn. Once that
thought takes root, there will be those who will decide to fight openly.

My silent musings are interrupted when I feel the World Enchantment's

pull.

Reacting quickly, I wrap myself in a shroud of confusion and shadow,

making myself invisible to the mortals. It's a practise that became
standard doctrine for me. Instead of interacting directly with the mortals,
it's much easier to fulfil the World Enchantment's terms in more subtle
ways.

I appear in a line of soldiers, some of them praying to whatever deity they

chose as their patron god. One glance is enough to tell me that they are
from the alliance. Their leaders chose to defend a small hill amidst fields
of corn. Facing them is an army which is very similar in its makeup.

Amidst medieval infantry which is mostly equipped with spears, they have
some siege weapons and cavalry. In the skies above both armies are flying
airships, huge monstrosities just like I remember them from the Eternal
War.

And there I thought that artefacts of that potency were lost to history. They
must have either found the airships mothballed away in some hidden cave,
or Ascathon and Myrm both taught their followers how to create and
repair these things.

If they are fully functional, things will get ugly for the ground-pounders
down here. No wonder that they are already praying for an easy passing to
the afterlife.

From what I can see, the Empire's forces are smaller in numbers, but they
look much better equipped. Without a doubt, they also have quite a few
undead among their ranks. Those can be counted as four of five normal
soldiers.

Their disadvantage in numbers is more than compensated by the fact that

they have three airships on their site, while the Alliance just has two. In
days long forgotten to the world, there were entire fleets of these things,
sailing proudly to their doom in gigantic air-battles.

I am still considering the situation and my role in it, when the two armies
start marching towards each other, following some hidden signal.

The lines of soldiers are generously placed twenty metres away from each
other. This makes it unlikely that too many soldiers get caught up in a
spell, should one get through the magical defences. It also makes it easier
for each magic user to protect the group of soldiers under his care.

The Empire's forces approach the hill, while the Alliance's troops move to
meet them halfway up the gentle incline, probably hoping that the lay of
the land would give them some slight advantage.

Generally, fighting downhill can be seen as an advantage, but I doubt that

it makes much – if any – difference with the number of mages and magical
devices involved. All soldiers are heavily supported by magical
enhancements.

Maybe I should just strike down those who are praying for an easy death,
just to get home. But I promised Ascathon and Myrm to stay neutral. It
probably wouldn't do to sow the seed of fear among the Alliance's ranks by
striking down one of their soldiers out of nowhere.

Either way, it doesn't happen often that the Goddess of Life and Death gets
summoned to a battlefield. Those who pray to me often wish for an easy
departure to the afterlife or a safe delivery at birth. Both are things which
rarely happen on a battlefield fuelled by mortal greed and hatred.

Feeling a slight tug on me, I follow the World Enchantment's compulsion

and stay close to the mortal who summoned me in his fear. Despite his
obviously unfit state to fight on a battlefield like this one, he stays in line
with his comrades, chanting the prayer that summoned me like a mantra.

I saunter after them, making sure to keep my distance while I rely on my

protections to keep me safe. My shrouding may keep me invisible to the
normal man, but people will notice if spells don't behave like they should
upon hitting me. I am not here to influence the outcome of the battle.

Falling in step with the advancing soldiers, I listen to the beats of their
drums, their cries of challenge. Magical siege engines and ballistas join
their cacophony, and above them, the airships charge up with the ‘whirr’ of
strategic-class spells.

It’s the old song of mortal folly, kindled by immortal players behind the
curtain. I don’t blame Myrm or Ascathon for what they are. They are
simply an eternal constant in this round dance.

It’s the mortals' own fault if they join the dance. After all, they could have
just said, “No,” and walked away.

The airships launch the first strike almost simultaneously, making it

impossible to tell who struck the first blow. Lances of plasma and balls of
fire light up the sky, quickly followed by orange cascading force fields
deflecting the destructive energies of their counterparts. Some of the
energies get deflected in random directions and hit the battlefield below,
claiming the first casualties as wards and defences are overwhelmed by
much more powerful magic.

As if the crescendo of exploding magic was a signal, both armies charge,

still feeling the relative safety of the magic users who are assisting the
ranks, providing magical protections.

Sensing their turn, the twanging of arrows and the sizzling of spells joins
the symphony. Most get caught by previously erected wards and
countermagic, while others get through, stunting the advance of both sides.

I raise my hands in an attempt to conduct this musical play, remembering

Ascathon's peculiar behaviour when he is on a battlefield. Is that what he
does when he plays with his hands while overseeing a battle? Is this his
way of coping with what’s happening, with the cruel reality of the world?
Or is he so unfeeling to towards the mortals that he simply doesn’t care,
and his actions are fuelled by his own amusement? Maybe it’s all just one
great game to him.

But no. That can’t be the case. Whatever he is, he isn’t uncaring. He is a
man with certain principles which he follows unerringly. That’s his way of
coping with the ways of the world.

When the first ranks of soldiers clash into each other, the cries of
encouragement and sounds of powerful weapons are quickly joined by the
shrieks of the maimed and dying.

I listen, taking note of the short, pain-filled sounds. Unlike in the movies,
a person in real, mind breaking pain doesn’t let out a single, continuous
scream. They try to scream, and any human being would recognize the
sound instinctively. When a person tries to announce his pain to all the
world, trying to reach anyone who might help. They try to raise their voice
as loud as possible and the emitted sound climbs an octave by the second,
right until their vocal cords fail and their voice breaks in a rather unmanly
manner.

Then there is the blood and the gore, the severed body parts and the stink
of shit and piss. It makes me want to wash. That’s something none of the
tales of glorious battles share with the audience. That this worshipped
moment of glorious battle was – and is in truth – a rather gruesome affair.

Some strange spell lands right in the ranks in front of me, breaking
through the defending mage’s protections. When it passed through, it
wasn't much more than a small ball of light, somehow bypassing all
defences. But as soon as it is inside the shields, it activates and unfolds all
its power into a conjured mass of blades. The small ball of ghostly plasma
turns into a whirlwind of slicing death, shredding its targets like a
meatgrinder. Blood sprays, body parts fly, men scream and die.

I coo, appreciating the craftsmanship of this magical construct. It’s a far

cry from anything an immortal would have the time to come up with, but
if the caster was a mortal, then I have to acknowledge his ingenuity.

The spell caught only a few men, not enough to change the outcome of the
battle. Had the soldiers simply ignored it, the rest of them would have
been fine. But as it often is with flashy magic, the spell draws attention
and makes an impression. Seeing a comrade turned into itty-bitty-little
pieces has that kind of effect. Maybe the spell was even intentionally
made with cruelty in mind, instead of just blowing the enemy up.

It’s the frightened man’s fault, the one who summoned me with his fear.

He turns and runs, fleeing the battle like a startled sheep, going so far as to
drop his weapon.

Seeing his frantic escape, several of his comrades lose their calm and give
in to the fear of death. The battle-line quickly dissolves into chaos as
formerly brave men abandon their positions. The only one who doesn’t
break ranks is the mage who was in charge of protecting the platoon.
Instead of wasting his energy on protecting the mundane deserters, he
retracts his wards, concentrating on those who are flooding in from
neighbouring positions in an attempt to fill the gap.

I sigh, seeing the end coming as a mage on the other side notices a bunch
of juicy, unprotected targets.

A ball of necrotic-green energy rises into the air and comes screaming
down on the deserters. Exploding in their midst, it releases sparks of
deadly energies, dissolving flesh and bones in a nova of green death.

It's low energy spell, easily blocked by any kind of shielding, but the men
who chose to flee had no such protections.

The coward who started everything gets caught in the spell and falls,
opening his mouth to scream as some magical effect, plague or curse
ripples through his flesh.

It's finally my turn and I fulfil my duty to the World Enchantment, ripping
the mortal’s soul right out of his body with a wave of my hand. His bonds
easily come loose, very much unlike when I try to take the soul of a god.
He is already dead when his empty flesh hits the ground.

I relieve the others who were hit of their suffering, even though they didn't
pray to me.

Looking at the battle which is now all around me, I wonder if that little bit
less pain in the world had any meaning at all if there is so much of it.

One of the Empire's airships comes crashing down, taken out by one of the
Alliance's siege engines, a large floating ziggurat, which I only now
realize was an anti-air defence platform.

I take a little more time to watch the mortals' brutal handiwork, the thing
they are best at, no matter when or where in the multiverse you look. Sick
of it, I return home.

In a way, I am no better, so I shouldn't judge them. What I am planning

will create death on an even larger scale than just a single world.
 Chapter 33

The World
Ascathon
“The war isn’t really going anywhere. We lose some land in one area, we
win some in others. Overall, it seems that we are pretty evenly matched
with the Alliance of Light. Our airships outclass theirs by a great margin,
but they have a pretty good ground-to-air defence, and a lot of it to boot.
More often than not, our ships are taken out because we weren’t able to
spot their anti-air cannons in time,” Ashley explains while I listen and
play with a bone, sitting on top of the altar in Luxley’s family crypt. It
turned into something like a ritual to hold our weekly update on 'mortal-
affairs' in this place. The gloomy room certainly fits the mood.

My thoughts drift off while Ashley informs me of the latest news.

The little trip to Alexandria’s library didn’t get me anything important.

After a decade of keeping my head down, it was relatively easy to gain
access. The Council clearly no longer cared about the place after they had
made sure that there was no forbidden knowledge hidden away in some
dusty shelf. Oh, I am quite sure that they overlooked something, given that
Lexi was never big on keeping her records up to date. But I have the
digitalized version of her library, and rummaging through her dusty books
would take time which I don't want to spend.

Even after years, the library was in pristine condition, as if it just awaited
the return of its owner.
Sadly, there was nothing obvious to be found that would have given me
any closure about Alexandria’s fate. After two hours of searching the
library’s warped pocket dimension, I had to give up and surrender Lexi’s
books back to where I took them, giving me at least that little bit of
satisfaction. Not that I ever had a bad conscience about stealing stuff, but I
regarded Lexi as a friend – with outrageous benefits.

I just don’t understand how it’s possible to make so many gods disappear
without a trace.

Not that it’s impossible. In fact, I know several ways of achieving such a
feat. There are ways to damage a god's soul to the point that they are
nothing more than a shadow of themselves when they reincarnate. Nobody
would recognize them anymore, should they ever manage to climb their
way back to the top.

Funny enough, many of the people who are regarded as mentally-ill have
the souls of former gods and immortals who were unlucky enough to cross
the path of a soul-mage or some other creature who is able to affect one's
afterlife.

What’s so agitating about this situation is that whoever is responsible has a

perfect track record. By searching through the annals of history, I found
out that there were always gods who vanished, some of them reappearing
after a while.

It would be foolish to think that all the cases are linked. Some deities
surely just hide in an attempt to avoid unnecessary attention from those in
power. A wise move on their part.

What it comes down to, is that I simply cannot believe how someone
would be able to vanish person after person with a perfect track record, not
ever slipping up or making a mistake, not a single one escaping whatever
is happening. And if my research is to be believed, there must be hundreds
of thousands of such cases. Maybe millions!

It's as if someone is throwing these people into a black hole, just to be

never heard of again.
I certainly wouldn't be able to achieve such a feat. At some point,
something would go wrong and the secret would come out into the light of
day.

Returning my attention to the bone in my hands, I split it apart with a little

burst of mana, studying how it looks on the inside. It’s definitely a human
bone, clearly recognisable by size and structure. But what else should it
be? I picked it up in a human crypt.

“… so I am afraid that this war will neither be quick or easy,” Ashley

concludes. “Now I really have to ask if you listened to anything I said.
And why are you defiling the bones of Luxley's grandma? Put it back, or
the poor sod will throw a temper tantrum when he catches you with it.”

“Don't worry, Ashley. You just said what all of us were expecting from the
start. That some of the other deities are clearly on Myrm’s side, just as you
and your girls are on my side. That the Alliance’s forces are just as well
equipped as ours.” I look at her and smile. “Don’t worry. In the end, all
these mortal affairs don’t truly matter. We perform this play to draw any
attention away from what’s really important.”

“Finding a way to dispel the World Enchantment?” Ashley concludes.

“Exactly.” I nod. “Let the mortals fight their war… just… see to it that we
don’t lose too badly. Okay?”

She smiles a wicked grin. “If we are already fighting a war, then would
you blame me should I accidentally win it?”

I return her smile. “I am afraid that should we go all out, there would be
no winner or loser. In fact, should the two ultimate authorities get
involved, there will be no more war.”

“You really think that Myrm is strong enough to oppose you?” she asks,
turning worried.

Shrugging, I drop the bone back to the stash of bones from where I took it.
“It doesn’t really matter who the stronger one is. Now that we are both on
guard it will be extremely unlikely to catch either of us by surprise. If we
fought each other, we would have to break through the opponent’s aura,
which is a god’s main-defensive measure. By channelling huge amounts of
energy through our bodies, we create an almost impenetrable shield,
making us impervious to most ailments or damage. Fully releasing our
auras is essentially turning us into beings of pure energy.

“Breaking through such an aura is the real problem. If Myrm doesn’t

budge and decides to take the fight elsewhere, I would have to unleash
energies powerful enough to break through Myrm’s defences. That alone
would very likely be enough to shatter the continent. I once fought another
god openly, serving as Tjenemit’s henchman. He refused to acknowledge
the Council’s authority and had to be punished. Let’s just say that there
wasn’t much left of his planet when the battle came to a conclusion. And
that was with both us fighting carefully.”

“Carefully?”

“Yes. Which means that both of us tried to focus our attacks enough to
break the opponent’s defence, without wasting too much of our power.” I
purse my lips. “In the end, it didn’t matter anyway. I suppose we could
have gone all out from the start and the result would have been the same,
even if not holding back meant that the first blow would turn the planet
into an asteroid field.”

Ashley looks at me, a little bit of doubt creeping into her expression. “You
would be capable of such a feat.”

I laugh. “Easily, if I put my godly powers to the test. But what would I
achieve by doing so? I am already fairly certain that I could dispel the
World Enchantment by unleashing a Disenchantment spell with all my
power behind it. Unfortunately, it would also damage my magic and
disrupt all the magic in the world. All higher life forms would be fried and
I would be left with a dead world. The World Enchantment would be gone,
but the Council would know for sure that it was the doing of a god. They
would know that someone knows, and eventually track the source back to
me.” I shake my head. “No. I have to find a better way. Something that
makes it look like the World Enchantment failed on its own. If they think
that their experiment was a failure, they may abandon it altogether,
allowing me to do as I please.”

“Hm. I guess I understand,” Ashley replies after a moment of

consideration. “I don't think that you are the kind of person who would
hesitate to destroy a world. The only thing you really care about is free
will, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you are concerned about the
well-being of those who you wish to be free. I don't understand the
philosophy behind it, but who am I to judge a god?”

“The philosophy is easy,” I explain. “I don't really care about anything but
myself and those I hold dear. Everyone is the master of his or her own fate,
and it isn't my responsibility to see to the well-being of every little
creature in this world. In fact, every being has the responsibility to see to
its own survival. As you see, my purpose is purely self-serving. As is my
wish to visit punishment on anyone and anything that wishes to take away
this responsibility to decide your own fate.”

She tilts her head, considering my logic. “So, by their own actions, the
Council already turned you into their enemy. Simply because they wish to
control you?”

“Exactly.” I nod. “Has Karin ever told you how we met?”

“She only said that you saved her.”

“I didn't,” I reply. “That would be a misconception on her part.”

The succubus raises both eyebrows questioningly.

“Karin saved herself,” I explain. “One could say that I killed her enslaver,
but that was a matter between him and me. Had I walked away right then
and there, she would still be a slave. She would also still be a slave had I
picked her up and took her with me.”

“I am afraid that I don't quite understand.”

“Karin was a slave of her own volition, simply because she and her mother
accepted the rules others imposed on her. All I did, was lend her the power
she lacked, the power she needed to oppose her oppressors. Even after I
gave her that power, she could have chosen to remain a slave, a tool in the
hands of others. She chose not to. The choice to say 'No' to the system was
her own, and not even I as a god could have made that choice for her,” I
finish my explanation. “That's the true reason why I took her in. Even in
her final hour, being offered absolution by Myrm's hand, she rather chose
oblivion than to serve another master. Had she chosen to be a sheep, I
would have left her there and not looked back.”

I jump off the altar and decide to retreat for the day. Ashley gave me a lot
to think about.

“Inform me if there is something that needs my attention. I suppose that

Luxley and our other minions are doing a decent job?”

“As decent of a job as a mortal can do.” Ashley waves her hand. “Don't
worry about it, if he gets senile or starts doing stupid things we will
replace him. I saw to it that there is a steady stream of successors. Linda is
in charge of keeping the royal line uninterrupted. She is quite adept at
selecting suitable females with excellent skills and a good background,
and arranging happy accidents for Luxley's successors.”

I purse my lips. “That sounds almost a little too much like a breeding
program. Are you locking them in a room until they start rutting, or
what?”

Ashley doesn't answer. Instead, she just narrows her eyes and crosses her
arms beneath her chest, pushing it up so that I get the hint of not insulting
her craft.

“Right,” I admit after deciding that I don't want to piss off my manager of
worldly affairs. “Succubus from the Infernal Plane of Lust and Pleasure.
How could I forget that.”

She raises her nose, satisfied. “We take pride in our ability to arrange
suitable matches. Linda has more skill in her little pinky than any dating
service from the mortal planes. If she selects two people, then I can assure
you that they stay together without locking them in a room.”

Oh, but I am quite sure that she makes generous use of her 'unique'
skillset.

“Do you want to say something?”

I quickly shake my head. “No. I better take my leave now.”

“Don't forget that Nix will visit tonight. She was quite ecstatic when she
heard that you decided to show yourself on the infernal planes,” Ashley
adds quickly before I can flee the scene. “She came all the way from her
own castle in the Netherrealm.”

My face scrunches up involuntarily, and I make an attempt at denying

reality. “Nix?”

“Yes. Don't tell me you forgot about your daughter.”

I make a show of studying my hands as if the wrinkles in my skin are

suddenly very important. “I wasn't even aware that she is still alive.” She
must have several thousand years on her back by now, given how much
time passed since my time as a demon. Clearing my throat, I polish my
fingernails on my robe.

Ashley smiles. “I don't get why you are so wary of Nix. You should be
proud that you fathered at least one succubus daughter back in the day.
Most demons never get chance to have offspring with a succubus, and Nix
truly loves you.”

I scowl, remembering the schemes of her mother. And as the centuries

showed, the daughter turned out no better. “That's exactly the problem. Her
'good girl' spiel! It's a mask and she is a spoiled brat.” Worse, I can't say
no to her. If I remember correctly, that was the reason why I ultimately left
that reincarnation behind, aside from utter boredom.
“Don't be like that. She grew up a lot since you left. It's been a few
thousand years for her. She has her own castle in the Netherrealm, and a
whole set of admirers. There is even a rumour that she will establish her
own demon-clan.” Ashley waves her hand dismissively. “I am sure that she
won't stay for long. Just say hello, show her around, and then she will go
home.”

“Why should she?” I ask, imaging a set of ridiculous demands the brat
would surely make.

“I've arranged for her mother to be there.” Ashley's expression turns evil.
“Isabel is the reason why Nix left my castle in the first place. The two of
them just don't get along.”

I draw in a deep breath and let out an even longer sigh. “I don't understand
how you are doing it.”

“Doing what?” she asks.

“The whole family thing. You are surely unable to count the number of
relatives you have,” I gesture at her.

“Just so are you, if we take all your reincarnations into account.” She
shrugs. “I don't get what's bothering you.”

The fact that I am related to her, yet I am not. At least no longer in a

genetic sense.

“It's about your emotions,” she decides without allowing me to answer.

“Look. It's really simple. If you decide that you two grew too far apart
from each other to consider her as family, then that's fine. She is a grown
woman and should be more than able to deal with that. As for how I am
doing it, I consider all my daughters who stay at my castle as my family.
When one decides to leave and doesn't show her face for a century, she is a
stranger to me. It's as easy as that. The thing is that Nix didn't have a
choice about seeing you since you were the one who ran off without
settling things between the two of you.”
“Fine, Fine. I'll greet her, and then we are going to talk a little about old
times,” I relent, then call for an expeditious retreat.

The World
Karin
“I still can't believe that that woman is his daughter,” I mumble, more
towards myself than to strike a conversation. “She is so bubbly, friendly
and happy.” It's almost like a facade.

Over at the table in the living room is Ascathon, who is talking with the
succubus who I know as Isabel, and her daughter Nix.

Ashley replies while she sets up a kettle of tea, “I know. Nix is so cheerful,
totally unlike her mother, Isabel, or any other demon I know. I really don't
know where she got it from.”

Isabel and her daughter, Nix, are both red-skinned with green hair. Isabel
has hers in a pony-tail, while her daughter seems to prefer hers as a mane
of curly locks. It's a little strange to see them next to each other since both
look like they are in their twenties.

“No, forget that,” I mumble and turn my attention to Ashley. “I can't

believe that he has a daughter! Ascathon doesn't seem like daddy-material
to me. And why didn't you have any children with him? Can you tell me
the story behind his demon days?”

Ashley snorts and dips her finger into the bubbling water to test the
temperature, apparently completely unaffected.

I have to wince just from watching her.

She shrugs. “As if any demon is parent-material. Our society isn't like
yours. And the whole story between Ascathon and Isabel would fill a book,
so I will stick to the short version.”
She furrows her forehead, clearly trying to think of where to start. “Demon
females pop out a new demonling every few decades while we are young.
It can account to quite a few until we get too weary to lay eggs. Normally,
we give our young into a hatchery, where they are safe until they grow up.
Only in rare cases, when the child is promising to become powerful, we
keep them around. We Succubi only take care of our offspring when it's
another succubus. The regular war-demons all end up in the hatchery.
During the time in which Ascathon stayed at our castle, I was already too
old to want even more children, as were most of my daughters. Isabel was
my youngest and her blood was fresh and boiling, so when she saw that
young, handsome demon, she just had to grab him. At the time, I wasn't so
happy about her rash behaviour.”

“Don't tell me you are now going to tell me some version of Romeo and
Juliet.” I roll my eyes, unable to imagine someone like Ascathon in such a
role. I mean, the god of Chaos and Magic in a love story? Who would
believe that?

Ashley blinks and throws some crushed tea leaves into the water as she
considers the idea. “Not quite. It's more akin to a story of the powerful
Demon Lord Zikiel and his harem of forty-two succubi, of which one
decides that she is bored of the old stud. Instead of giving him the chance
to father her first egg, she decides that she wants to have the choice. So
she finds herself that alluring young demon who is too inexperienced for
his own good and lures him with her teasing tail into the Lord's house and
his service, where the thing that must happen, happens. The Lord finds out
that his worthless underling was getting it on with one of his women and,
of course, confronts this young upstart to show him who is boss.”

I gasp. “Isabella did that? What happened next?” It sounds like Romeo and
Juliet, but not quite.

“They got into an argument, and the underling almost managed to talk his
master down, offering him reparations as an apology for defiling his
territory. Normally, that would have been the end of it.” Ashley pauses for
dramatic effect, using a spoon to stir the leaves, then she readies a sieve.
“It almost looked like things would go down without a bloodbath –
something we demons are quite fond of in our society – when our Juliet
entered the scene and unrobed in front of all the Lord's minions.” She
smiles wickedly. “That was quite the spectacle.”

“That's...” I furrow my forehead. “I don't get it. Don't succubi run around
naked all the time?” At first, I always felt ashamed when one of Ashley's
daughters was showing off her body, but by now I am quite tolerant of
nudity.

“It's quite different when the succubus in question has a belly with a clear
baby-bump and – to add insult to injury – she announces that she is
pregnant with another succubus and intents to keep the child. Then she
points at that young demon in the Lord's employ and announces him to be
the father. If it had been just another egg, the Lord would have forced her
to give it over to a hatchery, and that would have been the end of the
story.” She waves her hand and pours the tea through the sieve into a jug.
“But with a succubus daughter, Isabel had all her sisters on her side. Zikiel
would have had to endure watching a child not of his own growing up in
his house. It was like a public announcement that the Lord of the house
was unable to satisfy his women and that he is unable to keep his harem
under control.”

“I assume that didn't go over well,” I comment. And I feel kind of bad for
this Zikiel character. To be cuckolded like that must not go over well with
a guy. Though... does anyone really need forty-two wives? Can a guy
please that many women? Though, we are talking about demon-males
here. Maybe they can? If not, no wonder that some of the women sought
out their fun elsewhere.

Ashley nods, a savage grin on her face. “It worked out exactly as the hot-
blooded succubus intended it to. The Lord proclaimed that he would rip
the child out of her belly and cast her out, which the young and
inexperienced demon couldn't accept. It was his child after all... and then
one thing led to another and everything turned into a bloodbath.” She sighs
happily. “And that's how we got ourselves a new husband. In hindsight, I
must admit that Isabel was right. Zikiel was a little used up and behind the
times. Replacing him turned out to be a good idea.”
Ashley hums happily and carries the tea over to the three people who are
catching up on old times, while I stay behind in the kitchen-section of the
living room.

I just shake my head, baffled that Ashley doesn't seem to be bothered by

her story, not at all. “Demon society must be a hell to live in... and now I
know that Isabel is not to be messed with...” Or her daughter, if she is
anything like her mother. No wonder that the two don't get along.
 Chapter 34

The World
Ascathon
With a smile plastered onto my face, I wave Nix goodbye as she leaves
through the portal to the Netherrealm with her mother in tow.

As soon as the portal closes, I drop my hand, stop smiling, and let out an
exasperated breath. “Finally! They are gone.” What a luck that I managed
to convince them that I have really no time to take a look at Nix’s new
home.

“I still don't get why you refused to take a look at Nix's castle,” Ashley
comments from next to me with a smug grin on her visage.

“Because I am a god now,” I reply, trying to sound sincere and earnest. “I

have a world to take care of, so I can't just run off into a dimension with a
different flow of time.” Not to mention that I would go insane if had to be
around those two arguing females for another second.

“I think you are just using it as an excuse,” Karin observes. “After all,
Ashley and the others are taking care of the 'mortal' affairs, while you are
playing with your experiments.”

I press my lips together. “Isabel decided to take a look at Nix's home, so

we are now lacking her talent for at least a few months, given the time
dilatation.”

Ashley rolls her eyes. “I have about a dozen of my daughters over in this
dimension, and they are regularly switching places with those who are
running our castle. Nobody will even notice Isabella's absence.”

“Eight hours!” I snarl, my voice a little shaky. “You promised that Nix
would leave after a short chat! I listened to the two of them for eight
hours!” Raising my hand, I show them with just a little space between my
thumb and index finger how close I came. “I was this close to blowing
up!”

“One might think that you would be happy about meeting family,” Karin
teases.

I cross my arms in front of my chest. “I am! But I can take Isabel only
when she is naked and bent over a table! And Nix preferably far away! The
two of them together are like water to my fire! There is only so much I can
take.” I shake my head. “Even back in my demon days, mating with Isabel
was the biggest mistake of my life!”

Karin turns her gaze to Ashley, looking a little worried, but the succubus
matriarch just snorts and waves her hand at the young woman. “Please,
Karin. Don't look at me like such a thing would bother me. First, he is
right, and second, do you really think a demon-male has a choice when a
succubus decides to mate with him?”

“No?” Karin replies questioningly after a moment of consideration.

“Given all you've taught me, any inexperienced man would be putty in
your hands.”

The succubus matriarch chuckles and launches into a story. “Oh, he was.
Did you know that his demon reincarnation went a little awry, and that he
barely had any memories of his past lives at the time. He was such a pure
and innocent soul – for a demon. Any lady who showed interest in him
could have twisted him around her little finger...”

I shudder and decide to leave them to their conversation. “It's really nice
of you to tell Karin all that stuff, Ashley, but please try not to corrupt her
completely? She was such a nice and innocent girl when I picked her up.”
Karin blushes, while Ashley snorts in disbelief. “An innocent girl who
slaughtered a whole village, indiscriminately of whether they are man,
woman, or child.”

“Hey!” Karin straightens herself, unexpectedly standing up to Ashley. “My

madness 'had' method!”

The succubus looks at her charge, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. Instead

of answering, she just tilts her head, taunting our little apprentice.

“I didn't kill a single slave,” Karin explains. “Everyone else went to the
chopping block.”

“How about the innocent civilians?” Ashley asks smugly.

“Guilty by default. Everyone who didn't stop the slavery assisted it by not
speaking up, even if they had no slaves themselves.” The young woman
replies immediately without remorse or doubt. “I won't say that they were
responsible for the actions of others, or that they should have gone on a
crusade against slavery, just because they knew of it. But those people
lived in that village for years. They walked past the slave-market every
fucking day, and every fucking day they did nothing. That is what makes
them guilty.”

I laugh. “So the gods are not guilty even though we could do something
about human misery? Are we not passive observers?”

She clenches her teeth, working the muscles of her jaw. “I must admit that
when I called upon you, I thought you no better than those who walked
past my cage, ignoring me and the other slaves. But, back then, I was
under a wrong assumption. Believing the temple's teachings, I thought that
the gods were always watching, willfully ignoring their creation. Now I
know that you are not omniscient, and that you would rather be somewhere
else than to watch the misery of a slave-pen. It doesn't make you a good
person, but it does make you a little less guilty. Given that you have to
consider the entire multiverse as your home and how large it is, you can
hardly be expected to watch the mortals forever. Heck, you did that shit for
over a thousand years with your Mirai Empire, and they managed to pull it
through the dirt within a few generations. I did this job only for a few
months, and I already want to quit!”

I excuse myself after listening to a few more heated arguments between

the two women. I can see what Ashley is trying to do, and I want no part of
it. She is trying to goad Karin into giving up on her code of morals, or at
least to realize that she is a little hypocritical.

Not that this is a bad thing. I myself am perfectly fine with being a
hypocrite, as long as I am happy with it. If Karin is ever to ascend the final
steps to immortality and ultimately godhood, she has to go onto a journey
of self-recognition. A wise woman once told me that the path to
immortality is strewn with the corpses of the ignorance of our nature.

For a long time I didn't understand what she meant by that, but over the
centuries I came to realize what she might have meant. It's as true for
immortals as it is for gods. With time, we grow ever more powerful, while
we stay the same at our core. We may change everything around us, but we
can't change ourselves.

Deciding that I want to be alone, I head into the facility’s lower levels, the
high security tract which is only accessible to me. Taking the elevator past
the imprisonment level, I exit on Level 5, a high security area for
dangerous objects.

Humming silently, I wander the empty hallways of the level, studying the
lockers and doors which lead to various storage areas. The dark obsidian
on the floor and walls gives the environment a gloomy and threatening
feeling. Thankfully, I saw to it that there is generous lighting when I
designed the level, with more than enough mage-lights on the ceiling to
light up every corner.

It was time to inspect the level anyway, so I might do it while I have

nothing better to do. As I walk, I pass large blast-doors which allow access
to the more dangerous objects. From time to time there is a row of simple
lockers on the hallway, storage for the stuff which is safe enough as long
as nobody gets his hands on the objects.
The stuff which I am storing here may not be ‘alive’ in the traditional
sense, but some of the things on this level may as well have a will of their
own. It’s only prudent to make sure that security wasn’t breached during
my absence, especially since some of the objects have the potential to
destroy the world several times over.

As I round a corner, my wanderings through the silent hallways take me to

a locker which was left open.

Hesitating, I narrow my eyes as my pulse increases and a sudden jolt of

fear runs down my spine. There shouldn’t be anything left open on this
level. Suddenly, the area doesn’t feel as safe as it did a moment ago, and I
experience the irresistible urge to flee, to run and lock down this whole
level, never entering it again.

Something prickles in the back of my neck and I turn around, making sure
that there is nobody behind me. Of course, there is nobody there. The
hallway is empty, aside from the lockers which I already checked.

Clamping my hands into fists, I release a measured amount of my aura,

bathing in the cold, muddled sensation of my chaotic energies until the
strange and unreasonable urges subside and vanish.

Normally, I am not this skittish. I am perfectly fine with darkness and

dangerous situations, so why am I freaking out? There must be something
messing with my mind! Drawing in a deep breath, I tighten down on my
mental defences and turn to the open locker.

Approaching slowly, I take a look into the locker and find it empty. Old
memories flare up in the back of my mind. A long forgotten experiment.

I take the file which was pinned to the locker’s frontside. My eyes quickly
fly over the document and I sigh in relief when I realize that the situation
isn’t as bad as I thought.

Object 00-19-11-2330

Object: Locker, dimensionally shifted

Classification: Safe

Description: The object in question was created during dimensional

experiments. It will randomly shift places and dimensions, regularly
appearing in – or close to – its point of origin. Object 00-19-11-2330
escapes so far all attempts at analysing its nature. All attempts at
containing the object to a single location failed. Superficial inspections of
other dimensions which are related closely to this one revealed that all
objects similar to 00-19-11-2330 disappeared, making it the only one of its
kind.

Repeated attempts at destroying 00-19-11-2330 failed. It’s possible to

destroy 00-19-11-2330 down to the molecular level, but once whatever
remains are left behind disappear, the object will reappear completely
intact.

Mortals should not be brought close to 00-19-11-2330, as they will

experience intense feelings of irrational fear of the unknown, resulting
often in the use of violence – just to get away from the object. An
uncontrollable wish to flee is experienced. It suggests that the item in
question somehow affects the fight or flight reflex. Apparently, mortals can
feel that something about 00-19-11-2330 isn’t natural and shouldn’t be in
this world. This may be a side-effect of the dimensional shift.

Addendum1: But, as I am no psychologist, I don’t give a shit. Just

remember that this stupid thing appears all over the facility. Remember to
give it a good kick, as damage will make it disappear faster. And please for
the love of god, don’t put anything dangerous inside. Who knows where
this thing goes when it pulls off the vanishing act.

Addendum2: Should I ever wish to risk another reincarnation, I might just

climb inside to see where it takes me. Sadly, the fact that there is never
something inside the locker, even if I put something inside, isn’t promising
for my well-being.

I close the cursed locker, wondering where it has been for the last three
decades. Then I pin the file back onto the front side and kick the thing,
denting it. A few seconds later it just vanishes without a trace. As if it
never were there.

Nodding, I cross my arms behind my back and continue the inspection,

promising myself that I would remember the damned thing the next time it
appeared.

After an hour of wandering the corridor and checking the more dangerous
containment areas, I arrive at a large, metal door. Pursing my lips, I
suddenly feel nostalgic and approach, taking the file which was pinned to
the wall next to it. It has been a long time since I had to lock this thing
away, and it was one of my favourite items.

Object 00-01-02-1809

Object: Enchanted mask, faceless without features, made out of dragon-

bone

Classification: Extremely Dangerous

Description: The object’s original purpose was to enhance the user’s

perception. Various enchantments (look at Details) have been placed on
00-01-02-1809 over the centuries, leading to something that could be
called enchantment-overload. 00-01-02-1809 has reached and exceeded
the limits of how many enchantments can be safely placed on the material,
leading to a breakdown of the magical field. This, and maybe a mistake by
the enchanter, caused it to behave in unexpected ways. 00-01-02-1809 is
safe, as long as it isn’t worn by a humanoid.

People in the vicinity of 00-01-02-1809 will experience the wish to put the
object onto their face. This wish will continue to increase in strength, even
against the person’s better judgment. Should the exposure to 00-01-02-
1809 exceed one hour, people will start fighting over 00-01-02-1809,
eventually leading to a person putting it on.

In rare cases, 00-01-02-1809 will levitate towards a suitable bearer, trying

to attach itself against the person’s will. Catching or deflecting 00-01-02-
1809 with the bare hand before it can attach itself has proven to be an
acceptable protection.

Once 00-01-02-1809 is attached to a person’s face, unless it’s someone

with extreme mental defences, that person has to be considered deceased.
The bearer of 00-01-02-1809 will henceforth be designated as an Instance
of 1809. Any Instances of 1809 show extremely high magical and
necromantic skills. They will attack any living humanoids in their vicinity
with extreme force until they are either terminated, or 00-01-02-1809 is
removed from the face. In a case in which the Instance was left alone, it
continued its destructive tendencies until its biological body broke down
and ceased all higher functions, at which point 00-01-02-1809 can be
retrieved without problems by an individual with sufficient mental
defences.

Once an Instance is freed of 00-01-02-1809’s compulsion, the Instance will

go into a catatonic state and decease shortly afterwards. Analysis of the
body by an outside source showed that all synapses were overloaded,
causing a breakdown of the nervous system.

Any attempts at damaging 00-01-02-1809 have only proven that the object
can repair itself, even if ground to a fine dust. 00-01-02-1809 will slowly
reassemble itself until the original function is restored. While 00-01-02-
1809 is in the process of reassembly, all its other functions cease. Further
attempts at destroying 00-01-02-1809 were not made since it’s a
sufficiently *safe* object if stored correctly.

Addendum1: Things to be learned from this failure:

Remember not to enchant things while drunk.

Always record what you are doing when playing with magical artefacts,
even if you made them yourself.

Don’t try to mess with the coding of such a large enchantment without
having technical assistance.
Most importantly! Don’t imbue your godly powers into an object that
requires high precision and logic to function.

“Hmm.” I scratch my cheek where a light beard is starting to grow. My

eyes wander to the containment cell with the mask inside, and an idea is
starting to form in the back of my mind. Tjenemit warned us several times
not to interfere directly with the world, but what is a direct intervention?

At which point does an indirect intervention become a direct one. Can I

provide my followers with resources? Do I cross the line by giving them
nuclear bombs? It would be quite obvious that me lifting a hand against
the mortals wouldn’t be taken well. But what about leaving an object out
in the wild?

What if that object is – if left alone – not dangerous? Would it be my fault

if a hapless mortal were to pick it up?

Quite sure of myself, I reattach the report to the wall and open the cell.

Black darkness greets me from inside and if I wasn't still channelling my

aura from earlier, things might have taken a bad turn.

But I easily catch the white thing which comes flying out of the darkness,
directly at my face.

My fingers close on the white mask, which now looks quite different from
what I remember.

Turning it around, I study the thing, feeling a malicious aura coming off of
it. Instead of the faceless mien, it displays the angry and snarling visage of
a male in his twenties, with a single horn coming out of the forehead.

“Tried to give me a jump-scare, did ya?” I chew on my inner cheek, trying

to decide whether my idea is ingenious, or actually pretty stupid. But it’s
not like I am in the habit of putting my sign onto my creations.

I mean, it would be incredibly stupid to let this thing out into the world if
there was ‘Made by Ascathon, God of Chaos and Magic!’ stamped onto it.
Just to make sure, I turn the mask around, studying every inch of the
surface. One never knows what I might have, or not done, when I was
drunk enough to mess up the enchantment. Actually, this thing was once
one of my favourite items. Being unable to use it safely was quite the
mood dampener, but I got over it.

There are many old pictures out in the world, showing the Necromantic
Empress with a smile and a white mask in her hand.

After studying every inch of the surface, I nod to myself, reassured that
there is nothing that hints towards me. While the sudden change in
appearance is worrying and new, there doesn’t seem to be an issue. In fact,
it comes in quite handy with my plan.

Humming, I leave the high-security area and take a pathway towards the
battle-line between the Alliance and the Empire, appearing quite a way
within the Alliance’s borders.

After a last look at the mask, I shrug and drop it above what’s likely to be
one of the major roads. Someone should be sure to find and pick up the
thing.

It slips out of my fingers and tumbles down to the ground.

"Tā rén zhī wù wéi liáng shī," I mumble, remembering an old saying about
learning from mistakes. Then I take a pathway back to my base.
 Chapter 35

The Crystal City

Seria
“He is using the war to conduct immoral experiments!” Myrm screeched
as she spoke, clearly at the edge of losing it completely. Her voice was like
a loudspeaker and I wouldn’t have been surprised had the mana crystal
within her vicinity shattered. To show her outrage, she waved her hand
impotently, her armour clanking along in tune with her movements.

All the collected gods and goddesses in the room flinched at Myrm's
unexpected outburst. Even Tjenemit had to cover his ears in a rather
undignified manner, pulling a face as the sonic assault ravaged the whole
of Studio 7.

I watch as Marigold, who is sitting right next to Myrm, reaches up to wipe

at his suddenly wet ear, only to find it covered with half-orc blood, clearly
recognisable if not by smell, then by the slightly greenish tint to it. He
blinks as if he can’t believe his own eyes.

“I need a healer,” he comments stoically, still looking at his hand, unable

to comprehend that a mere scream could have injured him.

“Don't interrupt me!” Myrm snaps at him, disliking him drawing the
attention.

“What!?” The half-orc looks up to her, clearly unable to understand the

danger he is in. He opens his mouth wide and hits the side of his head as if
he is trying to dislodge something inside his ear. “I think my eardrums are
ruptured,” he explains unnecessarily loudly what everyone else already
concluded when we saw the river of blood flowing out of his ear.

Sighing, I cast Minor Heal on him, wondering why any god would neglect
to learn at least one healing spell. We may be almost indestructible when
our auras are fully released, but it's hardly practical to run around with a
fully released aura all the time. Releasing one’s aura among other gods is a
clear sign of hostility, so most people refrain from letting their powers run
uncontrolled. If we didn’t have this custom our society would be unlikely
to be able to function as it is.

So there are still plenty of possibilities to get injured, either in an accident

or by intention. Having some form of healing is only prudent in such a
situation.

Tjenemit opens his mouth, yawning in an attempt to relieve the ear-

pressure, then he flicks a finger next to his head, testing his own listening
faculties. When he is satisfied with the result, he returns his attention to
us. More accurately, to the god who is – for all intents and purposes –
behaving like none of this has anything to do with him.

“Ascathon, is it true that you are using the war between the mortals to test
some of your experiments?” the ancient god asks, looking down from his
heightened podium at the front.

“No,” the God of Chaos answers without hesitation.

Myrm is about to explode again when Tjenemit raises a hand, stopping the
outburst before it can begin. The Council member gives the God of Order
a reprimanding look. “Myrm, if you launch another scream like the one
before, there will be repercussions. And remember, this is just the annual
meeting to determine everyone's success.”

He returns his attention to Ascathon. “Yet, most of the things that

'happened' to get loose in the world are clearly your creations. I’ve read up
on this war between your followers and Myrm’s, and I must say that I
simply don’t care as long as you two do your jobs. But it’s an entirely
different situation if your squabbles affect other deities!”
“Maybe.” Ascathon purses his lips. “May I ask how you are linking these
'things' to me? It would be very helpful if I knew exactly what you are
talking about.”

The Council member clenches his jaw, clearly disliking Ascathon’s

attitude. “I know because you are not the only person who can read a
magical signature.” Tjenemit looks down at the broken mask in front of
him. The object shaped into a white, demonic grimace with a single horn
jutting out where the forehead should be.

“This thing reeks of you. So, please explain how this one – and other
experiments – are not connected to you? Is there someone running around
who can copy your magical signature? If that's the case, I suggest for you
to catch this person asap.”

Ascathon shrugs but looks like someone who has been given an
uncomfortable task. “Look, I can hardly be responsible for every idiotic
mortal who wanders into a closed-off dungeon to retrieve powerful
artefacts which they can't handle.”

“So the mask ‘is’ yours?” Tjenemit raises an eyebrow and looks down at
the artefact which is one of the causes for this assembly. It's lying on the
table in front of the Council member, a large crack splitting it in two. But
even as we watch, the mask seems to repair itself, slowly flowing back
together like water in slow motion. “You have no idea how much trouble
this thing caused. It even took over one of our lesser deities, so that I had
to get involved; and I don’t like getting involved.”

The Council member looks at a minor deity, someone by the name Sajurm.

I think Sajurm is in charge of wishes and desires, but I could be wrong.

Since he is just a minor deity it doesn't matter much. The problem lies in
the fact that he belongs to Myrm's faction and that Tjenemit got involved
in the whole affair.

As far as I understand it, Sajurm investigated a series of strange

disappearances on allied territory which had gone on for far too long. For
decades, the Allied Forces were plagued by a strange being which they just
called the White-Masked Devil. This strange and apparently insane being
would randomly appear and attack anything in its vicinity, displaying
power no mere mortal could stand against. By the time any help could
arrive, the Devil would have been gone.

It was Sajurm who finally managed to solve the problem, or better to say,
to become a problem big enough to warrant the attention of a true god.

Sajurm managed to arrive at the scene of the incident in time to catch the
White Devil in the act. Sensing the divine-touched power of the being, he
then proceeded with an attempt to take the creature prisoner. Finally, he
managed to dispatch the White-Masked Devil, only to fall victim to the
mask's influence.

It looks like the source of the legend which grew throughout the border
region was a magical artefact which drove its wearers insane. Every time
someone found the mask, that person would become the White-Masked
Devil, just to run off and die somewhere where the mask would be found
again a few years later.

Compared to the overall war which is currently going on between the

Alliance and the Empire, the losses caused by the mask weren't worth the
effort to launch a full investigation. That is until the mask managed to take
over a lesser deity who subsequently wiped out a sizeable part of the
warring forces in the immediate region.

When it became clear that the cause for the massive loss of life was some
masked deity, Tjenemit got involved, subduing the rogue deity who turned
out to be Sajurm.

Even though Tjenemit showed surprising restraint in subduing Sajurm, the

deity in question didn't get away unscathed.

A few days passed since the incident, but the man is still as pale as a
ghost, even though several healers diagnosed him as physically healthy.
It's also notable that he is uncharacteristically meek compared to his
previous behaviour. The cause is likely that the damage he took from being
dominated by the mask wasn't as much physical, as it was mental.
Shuddering, Tjenemit places a finger on the thing and presses down,
breaking it yet again. Then he shoves the pieces away from each other,
making sure that it's harder for the artefact to reassemble itself. “Sajurm
was lucky that my first reaction was just to punch him in the face. Had I
been forced to consider other options we would very likely be down one
participant in our little project.”

“Yes,” Ascathon replies after careful consideration.

“Hah!” Myrm calls out as if she just won a major victory.

“I remember having made such a mask in the distant past,” Ascathon

elaborates quickly. “But I lost it, maybe six hundred years ago.”

“Lies! You clearly intervened in the mortal's affairs and violated the rules,
even harmed another god!” Myrm points accusingly at her foe. “Nobody
sane would just 'lose' a dangerous object like that!”

Ascathon blinks slowly, then looks at the mask and back at Myrm. “I
would hardly call that mask 'dangerous'. It's a failed creation of mine. Yes.
Do I have the responsibility to keep track of everything I create? No. That
would be much too bothersome. I've haunted that world for over two
thousand years. There are countless abandoned facilities, lost artefacts and
treasures, even abandoned workshops all over the damned planet. How is it
my fault if someone digs up an ancient ruin?”

“Why would you abandon a whole workshop?” Tjenemit asks, stupefied.

Suddenly Ascathon turns defensive. “You know... things happen... for the
sake of... of science! One thing leads to another and there is a tiny, little
accident... and then you have to abandon the workshop.”

The Council member doesn't seem satisfied with the answer but decides to
follow a different route of questions. “At the moment, I am very
displeased with the situation. How many of these dangerous artefacts do
you have loose in the world?”
“Ahem... do you need exact numbers? Because, if I have to list every little
thing, that could take a long time. Not to mention that not all of my
creations are inanimate objects. What about the sentient ones, or those that
can move? I can hardly be expected to lock away that poor golem I made a
century ago. He is-”

Tjenemit raises his hand, stopping Ascathon. “Just the things that can be
dangerous to lower level deities and above.”

“Okay...” Ascathon looks perturbed.

The Council member sighs after a few seconds of guilty silence. “What's
the problem?”

“I am just thinking.” Ascathon gestures at the mask on the table. “Because

that mask isn't really dangerous if you don't happen to have the intellect of
a mouse.”

Several of the lower-ranked deities in the room gasp, while others start
whispering with each other.

“What I want to say,” the God of Chaos continues, “is that it will take
some time to make a list. I never expected the mask to be able to affect a
deity, so a few of my previous 'assumptions' might be wrong.” He laughs,
sounding genuinely amused. “I mean, who in this day and age runs around
without active mental defences?”

Several eyes wander to Sajurm, who is watching the wall in front of him,
trying hard to blend out that he is the topic of conversation.

“I just want everyone to know that it's probably impossible to 'find' and
'retrieve' everything I have left lying around over the years.”

Tjenemit doesn't look pleased in the slightest, considering that answer.

Ascathon spreads his hands. “What do you expect from me!? I am no

Oracle! How could I have known that you would decide to use that exact
planet for your experiment!? It's not like you didn't have a multiverse full
of other choices!”

The Council member sighs, admitting defeat. “I suppose that's a viable

argument. Maybe we should have chosen a more controllable environment
for the first test-run.”

While Tjenemit does his worst at solving the issue between Ascathon and
Myrm, I have the time to thoroughly ponder the situation.

It took me a long time to realize it, but Tjenemit might actually want
Ascathon to be distracted. Aside from me, he is also involved in the
Council's business, and they are aware of his unique skills. Aside from
that, Ascathon is much more of a loose cannon and a free spirit.

As am I, but I've gone through a great deal of grovelling to hide my true

intentions from the Council.

Having Myrm and Ascathon distracted by each other might actually not be
such a bad thing for the Council.

I let the thought linger as I check it for mistakes, but I find no issues with
this line of logic.

Tjenemit wants them at each other's throats so that they are easier to
control. It might seem like Ascathon and Myrm are causing issues, but one
world of mortals doesn't matter to Tjenemit in the slightest.

Compared to the time when Ascathon used to spend time in his office in
the Crystal City, the city became outright tame. He certainly didn't kill
another deity since he got busy with the world... aside from that one
fellow.

My eyes wander involuntarily to the little, green goblin who looks rather
dejected at his new body, a mirror in hand, picking at his skin. He has been
doing that ever since I brought him back, which is disturbing. Everyone
else would freak out at waking up as a goblin, but this guy didn’t say a
word.
Either he is still in shock after having seen Lucifer’s true form, or worse,
he actually likes being a goblin. Anyway. The big difference is that this
was more of a public show of force... okay... throwing the fellow to Lucifer
was an execution. But! The big difference is that Ascathon didn't run off
with the challenger's soul. Tjenemit also didn't get involved.

Insofar, the current situation can be considered a win-win for the Council.

Growling, I decide that something has to be done about this damned war.
The mortals have to bleed while Ascathon and Myrm are throwing verbal
pebbles at each other. All the while Tjenemit is holding court as if he is the
ruler of some mythological pantheon.

The fact that Tjenemit is holding this shit-show is only owed to

unfortunate circumstances. Hadn't that little deity been too weak to
withstand a simple mind-altering effect, everything would have proceeded
as normal. After all, this is just another excuse for Myrm to accuse
Ascathon of doing something bad, hoping that the Council would do her
job for her. What the stupid woman isn't realizing, is that the Council
doesn't want to punish Ascathon as long as things aren't going totally out
of control.

I was biding my time, hoping to get my chance of recruiting Ascathon and

Myrm to my cause, but that prospect looks bleaker the longer I watch the
situation unfold.

So, what to do? How could I turn this war of mortals into a war of the
gods?

My unique position would allow me to play both sides, and I had to take
advantage of that for as long as possible.

I purse my lips, deep in thought. Taking action against either party would
almost certainly result in a quick escalation, and I would have to do my
best to stay on top of things. For all intents and purposes, this won't be
easy if I don't want to lose certain people. The planning would have to be
perfect, assuring my presence in important cases.
The only question is, who do I want to save at all costs? Who is worthy of
saving?

The World
Ascathon
“Ascathon?” Ashley calls out as she enters my workshop. “Have you seen
Lilli and Anna?”

I look up from where I was working on a device that may be able to

change the status quo between me and the World Enchantment. Turning to
face Ashley, I quickly scan my recent memory for the last place where I
encountered Ashley's two daughters the last time.

Or should I rather say... where they jumped me?

“I am actually not certain,” I reply. “Your girls are into that whole body-
change-thing, so I am never a hundred percent sure who I am dealing with.
But weren't they assigned as priestesses to the northern front? I can recall
meeting them when I was there for a visit.”

“Yes.” Ashley places her hands on her hips, frowning. “I was hoping that
you sent them on a special mission, but if you haven't seen them either,
then they are missing.”

“Missing?” I ask. “How is that possible?”

“I don't know, but they haven't reported to me in a week.” Ashley huffs.

“Either they are having an orgy and forgot to invite me, which would be
really rude, or something happened to them.”

I bite my own tongue to keep myself from launching a witty reply. Who
would want to invite his own mother to an orgy? But then again, these are
succubi, crazed sex demons. And I've lived with them for quite some time
and while Ashley is right about her daughters being capable of engaging in
an orgy for days on end, it would also be a huge insult not invite the
matriarch to such a party.

I let out a long sigh. “You are right. Something must have happened to
them. I was fearing the other side would involve you guys sooner or later.
That's why I told you to stay at home.”

Ashley scowls. “My girls and I went into this knowing full well that we
are risking our lives, so don't dare to sound that whiny ever again. Do you
even know how boring life becomes after a few thousand years?
Insufferable! So don't even think that we would blame you if something
happened.”

I clench my teeth. “Still. Attacking the other side with divine force is
forbidden according to the rules, and nothing less than divine force could
smite one of your daughters.” Getting to my feet, I walk towards the exit
of my workshop but stop halfway there. “Do you think that this could be a
retaliation for the mask-thing?” I ask.

“Didn't you say that Tjenemit forgave that transgression when you
provided him with a list of locations which lists all the dangerous items?”

I look at Ashley. “I never said that I suspect Tjenemit to be responsible. At

least in this case. Myrm might have become tired of trying to goad the
Council into action.”
 Chapter 36

The World
Ascathon
No matter what Ashley says, or how indifferent the demons are to the fate
of a family member, the disappearance of two of my girls isn't acceptable.

“That's all well and good,” I reply, “but we can't just accept this attack and
go on as if nothing happened! At the very least, we have to ensure that
they know that such attacks won't happen without repercussions!”

“Ah, but that Tjenemit dude doesn't care,” Ashley replies, suddenly
sounding worried. “I am not even sure if we are included in that rule of
his. After all, as demons, we aren't much more than demi-gods, we don't
even count as lesser deities.”

“Who says that we will bring this matter to Tjenemit? That's what Myrm
has been trying to do for decades and it resulted in nothing. Tjenemit has
no interest in anything we do, as long as it isn't concerning the divine,” I
grumble. “As far as I understand it, the whole purpose of this project of his
is controlling us while searching for potential new recruits.”

I shake my head. “No. If we want to send a message, then we have to lay

down the law ourselves.” Raising a fist, I squeeze it to make my point
clear.

Ashley fidgets around, like a child who was caught by her parent.

“What is it?” I ask, noticing her odd behaviour.

“It's just that you are so angry over this! I haven't seen you like that in
millenia, with your eyes glowing red and blue sparks coming out!” she
explains hastily.

That brings me quickly back down to face the facts and to realize my own
emotions. She is right. I am getting carried away here, and that may be
exactly the thing Myrm wants to achieve.

Normally, I had planned my revenge on Myrm to be far away in the future.

It would come swift and be a surprise to everyone. These new
circumstances don't change anything, aside from the level of punishment
which I'll visit on my enemies. “You are right. I might've been a little-”

“Seeing you like that gives me shivers. It gets me all hot and bothered.”
The demoness bites her lower lip. “Say, don't you want to take
~advantage~ of the fact that I am all wet before you do whatever you
intended on doing?”

“I, er-” Somehow, I don't know how I should react to that. I've always
known that all the succubi around me are deep down cold-hearted bitches,
but... I guess that I expected at least a single tear for two of her daughters?

Then again... they more than likely see each other as nothing more than
competition. I have to remind myself that the place which spawned these
people is called Infernal with a capital 'I' for a reason.

While I was still taking my time with being puzzled about Ashley's
reaction, the succubus matriarch threw herself to the ground to roll around
like a cat in heat, managing to stimulate a reaction within me, despite the
off-putting situation at hand.

“Sure, I guess?” Why waste a chance to participate in some succubus

relaxing techniques? If I am going to kill people permanently, I may as
well do it with a grin on my face.

One hour later, having taken care of the worst of Ashley's mood, I leave
the workshop, ready to do some improvised murdering.
It would be a little overconfident to go right for the head of the lion since I
think that Myrm should be at least as capable in a one on one fight as I am.
And that's only by judging the other god's aura. Sadly, I have absolutely no
idea what tricks he might have up his sleeve.

Which doesn't mean that I don't feel confident to take on some of Myrm's
supporters.

A few decades of silently watching this fake-pantheon of ours were

enough to make out who is on whose side.

Surprisingly, most of the roughly two dozen gods are in Seria's camp.
Which means that they want to have nothing to do with the battle between
'good' and 'evil', and prefer to stay on the sidelines, playing the neutral
party.

Then there is my faction with... me! I suppose that I shouldn't count my

succubi as any help against a full-fledged deity. Let's not forget that there
is Karin who is also useless at the moment.

I suppose I could force Willow to awaken in hopes that she may become
somewhat of a power-house. But that wouldn't just put her at risk from the
Council, it will also very likely be hard to explain where I hid an immortal
for millennia until she managed to awaken into a full goddess.

Nope. Let's just forget the thought of getting any support. As always, it's
me against them, which just means that I have to get them one after the
other. Or in small portions, if I can take them.

Then there is Myrm's faction, which counts around eight or nine members,
of which three are on-and-off-again people. Sometimes I've seen them
interact with Myrm, taking his side, but most of the time they prefer to
stand on Seria's side of the table. I suppose that they themselves don't
know what they want.

Which means that if there is a fight, they will be the first ones to quit.
That leaves Myrm and four – maybe five – hardcore followers, of which
three are gods in their own right. One is a middle-class deity, and one a
lesser. Maybe if I send the whole squadron of succubi, they can take care
of her. The problem is that if the lesser deity decides to run by using the
pathways, there is nothing a succubus can do.

I walk down the corridors of my base until I arrive at what Ashley and her
daughters dubbed the 'intelligence room' where they are gathering all the
important information regarding the war between the mortals. Even if my
succubi are no warriors, they are the perfect spies.

There is no question that they can provide me with the information of

when and where.

The World
Ulbion
“I really don't see a reason for investigating this shut-down facility,” I
mumble and kick a pebble as we walk through the abandoned corridor of
an old Mirai temple, supposedly one of Ascathon's old research facilities.
“Just look around. This is a ruin.”

“It is,” Rustik affirms, throwing back her brown hair while studying the
walls, ground, and ceiling with high attention. “But the Alliance's spy-
network got reliable information that something is happening down here.
Some adventurer mentioned that the old machinery came back to life, and
that people were mysteriously disappearing. Myrm wants to be on top of
things, just in case another one of Ascathon's experiments is about to get
loose.”

“Who cares.” I glance at the ceiling, expecting it to come down on top of

us at any moment. “Ascathon was right when he said that this planet is
riddled with abandoned projects of his... or her... never sure how to address
the gender-confused sicko.” I chuckle.
I wouldn't call myself prejudiced against people with certain tendencies,
but if need be, I certainly prefer the womanly types who are sure of their
role. Like Rustik, with her finely chiseled nose and those cute perky...
ahem... yeah...

She would probably rip my head off if I had said that aloud.

“You better make sure he never gets to hear that, or he will rip you a new
one,” Rustik replies as the lesser deity enters a large room where some of
the ancient machinery seems to be still active, despite millenia of decay.

I look around, silently admiring the insane god's handiwork. Even if I can't
approve of his behaviour, his creations are built to last.

There are runes bathed in a purple light all over the surface of the great
hall which we just entered. Glowing lines of power are running towards a
central piece, something akin to a pool in the centre of the room. The
water inside the pool is perfectly still, providing a mirror.

“Great,” I rant. “I bet one of the stumbling adventurers who found this
place activated the thing by accident.”

“Looks to me like a portal,” Rustik suggests as she approaches, hands in

her pockets. “Let's hope that it's not a doorway to the infernal planes. Ah,
and please don't touch anything.”

“Nah, don't worry. I am not that stupid.” But just to be sure I put my hands
into my own pockets. Rustik has a point. Good intentions can be easily
overcome by curiosity. “May I just remind you that in case of that cursed
mask, touching wasn't even necessary?” I quickly check my mental
defences and try to make out any inexplicable urges or feelings which
should be out of place.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” She shrugs and bends over the pool in the ground. “I
am nowhere as incompetent as Sajurm.”

I follow her lead and take a good look into the water. Aside from our
reflection, there is nothing inside it. The water is completely clear and
seems to be about two metres deep, but it’s hard to tell because of the
reflection and I have no desire to jump in just to test its depth. “Doesn’t
seem like a portal if you ask me.”

“Now that we got a close look I am not so sure either, but what else could
it be? Rustik points at the ring of runes which surrounds the pool. “I
recognize those, and they are certainly connected to portal magic.”

I chuckle. “But it’s a pool? Do you think Ascathon struck the fancy, so he
built himself a magical bathtub?”

She pulls a face. “Please, forgive me if I call bullshit on that theory. Aside
from the fact that this setup,” she gestures at our surroundings, “is just
impractical, there are various reasons why a magical bathtub wouldn’t
need teleportation runes.”

I nod, still studying our grey reflections in the water. “Okay, so we

confirmed that this place is something beyond the mortal’s kin?”

“Yes, let’s leave and nuke this entire area. Better to get rid of this stuff
than to let the mortals play with it. Who knows what this thing does.”

“Hmm, okay. Let’s head back out the normal way to make sure that there
are no adventurers inside when we light the place up,” I suggest and head
back out, not the least bit interested in solving the mystery of the pool. If
experience taught me anything, then it’s not to mess with anything that
was touched by a soul-mage. Nuking it from as far away as possible is
certainly the safest option.

We quickly retreat from the mysterious room and through a seemingly

endless set of tunnels which are in various states of decay. It’s clear that
the rest of the complex was housing one or the other critter at various
points in the past. The ground is littered with the bones of creatures, most
of them small humanoids which I would guess to be goblins.

It’s clear that the place was a monster-den for a long time. Without a doubt
it was cleared out several times by adventurers, just to be settled anew
some time later. There are more than enough dangerous creatures with a
high reproduction rate in the world – dangerous for mortals. Some old
ruins in the ground are the perfect breeding pit for them, given that they
are strong enough to claim the place as their home.

Yet, something about this place isn’t right. “Say, Rustik?”

“Yes?” She turns to look at me.

“Don’t you think that there is something strange about this place? I mean,
everything outside the pool-chamber is in various states of decay, while
the chamber itself seemed to be in a reasonable preserved state. Isn’t it
strange that the creatures which clearly inhabited this place at some point
in the past didn’t stray into the chamber?”

Rustik shrugs. “I would assume that the entrance to the chamber was
somehow blocked until the adventurers who reported it did something to
open the thing.”

Pressing my lips together, I try to reassure myself that it must be the

correct explanation.

We travel the remaining way without finding or sensing any mortals

within the complex.

“Fuck!” Rustik curses suddenly as we step beyond the entrance which is

covered with plants and liana, allowing only a single human to get inside.
Outside is the dense jungle of the Sawood Forest.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Try to use the pathways!” Rustik turns around, searching our

surroundings. “We are cut off!”

“That’s impossible!” I quickly try it myself, but they aren’t there. They
just aren’t there! “P- pathways can’t just disappear like that!”

“No, they can’t,” a voice replies from behind us. “It’s surprising enough,
but you are right, though, it’s likely that you just guessed?” Stepping out
of the shadows, Ascathon appears from the dark entrance to the facility,
clad in a dark attire which looks slightly baggy on him, but probably gives
perfect freedom of movement.

He must have been following us the entire time!

“What are you doing here?” Rustik asks. She reaches for the amulet
around her neck and presses a yellow gemstone in its centre. “Myrm? Are
you there? We could need some help here.”

Ascathon crosses his arms behind his back and sways slightly back and
forth on his heels. “Sorry. That won’t work either. There is nobody on this
planet who could hear you.”

“What did you do?” Stepping in front of Rustik, I call on my holy magic
and summon a spear of light, imbued with my pure essence it should be
able to cut through any aura.

“You stepped through the Portal of Inversion.” He spreads his hands,

indicating the world around us. “I myself am not quite sure of the physics
behind it, but the artefact shifts those who step through it into another
dimension… no… that’s not right.” He tilts his head. “Let’s just say that
we are phased-out of our normal reality. Not quite out of our dimension,
but also not quite in the other. That’s why there are no people on this
world. Didn’t you notice that everything is slightly greyer than it should
be?”

I gulp, noticing the strangely shifted colour of the plants for the first time.
Inside the dark tunnels, I didn’t take notice of the strange effect. But now
that he mentions it, in the daylight, it’s quite obvious that all the colours
seem off.

“But we never stepped into that damned pool!” I whisper to Rustik. Maybe
he is just trying to fuck with us, wanting us to panic. “Maybe it’s a ploy to
get us to attack him. He surely has a camera somewhere.”

Ascathon heard me nonetheless. “Are you sure? You see, the portal is a
little peculiar in that regard. You don’t step through, but rather, look into
it. That’s enough.”
“What do you want?” Rustik asks. “Why are you going through the trouble
of bringing us here?”

He sighs, looking disappointed. “I just need to take you out of the game.
Sorry, it’s nothing personal. In this place I can go all out. The damage
won't transfer to the real world.” Then he smiles, showing his teeth. “But
hey, you have to see the bright side! As soon as it’s game-over for you, you
no longer need to play Tjenemit’s guinea pigs.”

With that, he releases his aura and I feel some incorporeal weight pressing
down on my very soul.

Releasing my own aura, measly as it is against his, I call out. “Rustik, you
have to get out of here and search for a way back. Tell the others while I
hold him off.”

“There is no point. This whole planet is like a large void zone as far as it
concerns the pathways. It’s the perfect place for a good battle. In fact, I am
very certain that the Council uses a similar effect when they hold their
sanctified tournaments every few millennia.” Ascathon steps forward,
summoning a blue orb in his left hand. “I have no problem with
dispatching you one by one, but your chances would be better if you fight
together.”

Still not fully believing that he would be insane enough to go through with
this, I point my spear at him. “You will never get away with this. The
Council won’t ignore our disappearance. Tjenemit will start an
investigation, and once they compare our whereabouts they will know. Do
you really believe that these amulets of ours don’t come with a tracking
function?”

His grin widens. “Oh, they certainly do… But!” Reaching for his collar, he
pulls the cloth aside. “Which amulet are you talking about? As far as the
World Enchantment is concerned, you went into the ruins and never came
out. I wasn’t even anywhere close.”

Rustik’s eyes widen slightly and the both of us finally have to admit that
he really set this whole scenario up with the intention to kill us.
“Rustik, try to get back to the pool and activate it somehow. Jump into it if
need be. Don’t think about me.” Seeing us at the end of negotiations, I
charge, putting a sizeable part of my power into the effort.

Aiming the orb of glowing energy at me, Ascathon jumps upwards, not
holding back any of his power, distorting the ground beneath him.

I can only swing my spear, deflecting the simple blast of energy as the
area around us is torn asunder by the sheer strength of Ascathon’s
unrestricted movement. It’s only thanks to my own aura that I am able to
hold my position without being blown away like a leaf in the wind.

Before I know it, I am hovering inside a crater, a hundred metres wide,

with Rustik next to me.

“Why are you still here, you idiot!” I ask, as somewhere in the far distance
the spell of blue energy hits something with the force of a nuclear
explosion.

Rustik only smiles and looks down at the crater beneath us. “Do you really
think that there is anything of the tunnels left after he created a localized
earthquake and compressed the ground like smashing a meteor into it?”

“He must have another way back!” I reason quickly. I don’t really want to
play the hero, but Ascathon is a damned powerhouse. Everyone knows it
and the Council is even using him as one of their hunting dogs. The only
reason why they try to refrain from doing so, is because he is a damned
nutcase.

“Forgive me,” Rustik points up into the sky, “but I really don’t think that
you would be able to stand against that. Or that I could find a way back
within the little time you could buy me.” She pulls down the corners of her
mouth. “Our chance of running without access to the pathways is next to
zero. The only way I see is to beat him up and make him tell us how to get
back.”

Even as I follow her indication to look up, my heart falls upon seeing the
red star in the sky above us. I chuckle and lower my spear in resignation.
“I always knew that you have a few screws loose, Rustik. There is no way
we can beat that! The bastard was holding back.” We aren’t anywhere near
that level. With that power, he could challenge a Council member in a one
on one duel.

Rustik shrugs as the spell of red energy descends on our position, its mere
aura clearing away the jungle as far as the eye can see, painting the pale
world in a haze of red.

“How do they say? It’s a good day to die?”

 Chapter 37

The World
Seria
The world was not yet ready for Myrms reaction to the disappearance of
two of her followers. Of course, there was never any definitive proof as to
who should be held responsible, but that didn't matter to a half-mad, mind-
influenced goddess like Myrm.

Though her reaction to the disappearance of two of her followers still

surprised me. If I thought that she intended to unleash total war on the
world before, then I was wrong. Oh, boy, never before have I been that
wrong.

From my floating island domicile, I watched the mortals as decades turned

into centuries, and centuries into millennia, while the world beneath me
burned in the flames of war.

And to think that the reason for that was just the disappearance of two
demi-gods.

My feelings of guilt were somewhat mitigated by the fact that aside from
Ascathon and Myrm, the mortals under their influence knew even better
how to hold a grudge than the two gods themselves. The mortals started
indoctrinating their children, and their children, in turn, committed ever
more gruesome atrocities on the opposing faction as generations went by.
A spiral of hatred and violence that didn’t need to be taken care of to
continue as long as there was a breathing mortal to carry on the legacy.
What was fascinating to watch was that the two sides slowly took in the
teachings of their deities and their doctrines as they turned into a bad
facsimile of what they worshipped.

The Alliance’s most accomplished troops, The Monks of Light who stood
at the frontlines of each battle, used their god’s teachings of internal mana
to overpower their enemies with superhuman feats. Being faster, stronger,
and more resilient than any other mortal man gave them the edge in any
close range encounter. Striking hard and fast was also the perfect way to
fight a user of external magic, who needed time to cast their spells.

Contrary to that, the Empire followed a more traditional style of using the
arts of external magic. Their elite troops, the Knights of Chaos, were
capable of fighting in the front rows, but over the decades it became clear
that this wasn’t their forte. As most who joined their ranks nowadays were
magical casters, they preferred to stay behind the front-lines, launching
devastating spells at the enemy. Their disadvantages were more than
compensated by the fact that multiple magic casters were able to combine
their power to cast ever more powerful spells.

Driven by war and through the influence of their gods, both sides advanced
in leaps and bounds, researching magical technologies on the side of the
Empire, while the Alliance’s focus lay on genetics and alchemy. Their – in
one way or another – enhanced soldiers were more than capable of keeping
up with the enemy.

It surprised me that Ascathon and Myrm weren't already at each other's

throats, but it was only a question of time.

All I had to do on my end was to wait and watch, patiently giving the
kettle time until it would reach a critical temperature, at which point it
would be up to me to act quickly and decisively. Most people, even
immortals, wouldn’t have had the patience to wait that long for their plans
to come to fruition. But I did.

For countless millennia I had done nothing else but waiting. I, the Goddess
of Life and Death, hadn’t always been like that. There was a time when I
was hot-blooded and impatient – when I would always do as I pleased.
But ever since the war of the gods I had learned patience the hard way. In a
time in which we fought other gods as readily as the mortals, I had the
misfortune to be cast away into a void zone – an area of space without
pathways. And without pathways, there was no way to escape my exile.

There, in isolation and alone, my only choice was to either grow with the
experience or to turn insane.

When I emerged, I realized that everything I had known was gone. Time
hadn’t stood still while I was gone and friends, family, and home had
departed for unknown shores. In their place was the perversion that called
itself the Council of the gods. They were inhabiting the holy halls of my
predecessors like rats inside the den of a dragon, defiling it with their
presence. The centre of all things was no longer a place of enlightenment
and freedom, but something to be feared by those too weak to oppose the
rule of the strong.

My silent musings are thankfully interrupted when the door to my living

room opens. “Here is your tea,” Lilli informs me as she enters the room,
carrying a bottle and a cup. The demoness smiles bewitchingly and puts
the cup down on the knee-height table in front of the sofa where I am
sitting.

The hot fumes which escape the bottle quickly spread the smell of lemon
throughout the room and I hum in appreciation and expectation of this
little tea-party, even if my two maids are unlikely to join me willingly.
Ever since their abduction, Lilli and Anna have been unwilling residents of
my floating island with its little, Chinese-style bungalow.

I pull my eyes away from the map of the world on the wall across from
me. During my silent musings, it was a pleasant distraction, showing the
state of the war and other political affairs by automatically updating itself
with information gained through spy-satellites and other means. Not that
there is anything much to see nowadays. All the available land is either
marked as uninhabitable or as controlled by one of the two major forces.

“Thank you, Lilli.” I take the cup from her and allow the demoness to pour
me some lemon tea. Then I swirl the hot liquid around inside its cup,
blowing twice before taking a careful sip. I could simply channel my aura
to protect myself and ignore the temperature, but there is something
soothing about doing it the old-fashioned way.

Anna enters the room, carrying a tray with house-made cookies. She puts
the tray down next to the tea-bottle, then retreats two steps to stand next to
her sister. The two succubi watch me having lunch, something eager in
their expressions.

I smile, watching the two of them in their china-doll dresses, something I

chose solely to preserve the style of my little domicile.

When the two of them don’t become bored of watching me, I feel a little
bit of suspicion in the back of my mind. Normally, they would steal
themselves away to sulk in another part of the house. The demons
themselves might not admit it, but their culture is highly sociable aside
from their treatment of each other. They are like broken sadists, unable to
properly show their affection. When they truly want to punish another
being, they do it by isolating the other party as much as possible, whether
they are aware of it or not.

So their open interest in me eating their cookies makes me at least

somewhat suspicious. The two aren't happy to play servants for me, so
why would they suddenly want to stay in the same room if they don’t have
explicit orders to do so? Furrowing my forehead, I take a cookie and stuff
it into my mouth while I watch them warily.

Abducting two demi-gods was the easy part, but keeping them restrained
and locked up for millennia proved quite a bit taxing. I could have just
killed them and taken their souls for my project, but I thought that they
may be helpful in the early stages of my plan. After all, I would need
someone to help me guide my bright new world, and I already decided to
use quite a bit of demon for the genetic base of its new inhabitants.

My stomach rebels suddenly and I retch a little, forcing back the

heartburn. To counteract the unpleasant sensation, I circulate some of my
healing energy through my body and take another sip from the tea while I
munch on the cookies. The succubi's eager expressions turn first confused
as the mountain of cookies shrinks down to a handful, then to silent
resignation as I continue watching the world map contemplatively.

Lilli turns to Anna, and Anna looks back at Lilli.

“Are you sure you put it in?”

“Of course I am sure. Are you sure that you concentrated the essence
properly?”

“O’course! I am sure! Maybe it wasn't enough?”

“It was enough to-”

The two succubi slap at each other in their attempts to disclaim the fault
for their failure.

I decide to interrupt before their attempts to accuse the other party of a

mistake end up in an unfortunate catfight. They are just demi-gods, but
that was enough to ruin my little domicile several times in the past until
they finally admitted that I can subdue them as easily as toddlers.

“Did you two change the recipe for the cookies?” I ask, smiling. “Both the
tea and the cookies tasted a little different from what I am used to.”
Narrowing my eyes, I make eye-contact with Lilli, then with Anna.
“Whatever you used, I am fine with it being inside the cookies. It gives
them a certain sting, really fitting in combination with the lemon tea.”
Looking down, I study my empty cup. “But the stuff really doesn't fit into
the tea. It overshadows the lemon.”

The two succubi nod quickly. “Of course, we will refrain from
experimenting with the tea then.”

Anna laughs. “See, Sis? I told you that it can be tasted quite easily among
the lemon.”

“Yes,” I affirm. “I just would like to know what you two used and how you
got it. I thought that I made sure you can't leave the island or send any
messages.”
The two demons stiffen when they realize that I am aware that they tried
to poison me.

There is a prolonged silence during which they refuse to meet my eyes.

I sigh. “Look. I told you about my plan, and it's okay if you don't like it. I
am not even mad that you are trying to escape from the island, or that you
are trying to kill your jailer. But I can't allow you two to leave. If you don't
tell me what you did, I will have to get the information by force.”

“It was deathflower seed,” Lilli admits dejectedly. “A full handful in the
tea and in the cookies. You should be on the floor, puking your liquefying
guts out!”

I probably would be, if it weren't for my life magic. “And how did you get
so many seeds?” More importantly, why didn’t they tell everyone that they
are alive if they truly found a way off the island?

“I caught a seed in the wind before the gardening robot could get to it.
Then we grew the flowers behind the bungalow, on the other side of the
island. The shield around the island isn't perfect. It lets air and small
particles through, just like the airborn deathflower seeds.”

I nod sagely, silently thanking myself that they didn't breach the
containment. If they somehow got away and told the others about what I
did, that I am the reason for how fierce the war became, then that could
have all sorts of repercussions.

I don't think that Tjenemit would actually punish me. All I did was to
abduct two of Ascathon's servants. But at the very least I would lose
Ascathon's trust, and that would make it so much harder to control how
things turn out. Sometimes I just wish that Lilli and Anna would join my
cause, but they don't see the bigger picture, my reason for doing all of this.

“That's okay.” I smile. “You can catch seeds and grow all the flowers you
want. Somehow, I wish I could share that bit of information with the rest
of your siblings and your mother. Growing plants sounds much more like
something that angels would do. It’s hilarious to imagine a gardening
demon.”

Anna's expression turns horrified and she turns on Lilli. “I told you! We
should just kill ourselves! Being locked on this island for that long messes
with our heads! We are getting soft! Not to mention that there is nobody to
fuck aside from her.” She points at me. “And you!” Anna adds disgustedly,
pointing at her sister. “If we didn’t have Ascathon’s amulets, we would
have shrivelled away like dried up corpses.”

Lilli just sighs, looking defeated. “You know, passing the time with
gardening wouldn't be so bad if there were at least some flowers from
home. Like my snatcher-plant.” She giggles and covers her mouth. “Or the
man-sized venus fly trap.”

Anna shakes her head. “It took you a thousand years to breed that thing
and I still don't get how you managed to add the tentacles.”

“~That's a trade secret,” Lilli swoons over her plants while pressing her
hands to her chest.

For a moment, I play with the thought of getting them some plants from
their home dimension so that they would feel a little better, but I abandon
the thought quickly. I have no sufficient knowledge of the capabilities of
their biosphere, and importing stuff that could help them in an escape
attempt would be bad. Worse, if something like that venus trap gets off my
island it could have an impact on the world below. Even if it’s Ascathon
who would most likely get blamed for such an event, I don’t want to be the
one who is responsible for having the world covered in man-eating plants.

And wouldn’t I have to bring in living food for those things? No. Better to
leave things as they are. If the two succubi really wanted to groom those
plants in the garden I am sure that they would ask.
 The Crystal City
Ascathon
“You called for me?” I ask as I peek into Tjenemit’s office which is a large
room with an even larger desk. Standing behind it and looking outside the
window is Tjenemit, his arms crossed behind his back.

Not wanting to feel like a school kid who was called to see the principal, I
stroll into the room when I see that the Council member is currently
unoccupied.

“Indeed.” He turns around and studies me without saying a word.

Deciding that I can use silence as well as he does, I say nothing and just
wait for him to collect his thoughts. There must be a reason for calling me
into his sanctum. I would like to think that it has something to do with the
world, but I know of no reason that would require my presence.

Tjenemit gestures at an empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”

Knowing well enough that it wasn’t an offer, I sit down and wait for
further instructions, all the while fuming inside that I have to take orders
from that cretin. If this was solely between the two of us, I would have
ripped him a new one aeons ago.

“I want an update regarding Eris. You are still seeing her as a part of the
treatment process as far as I understand?”

I nod, wondering why he is approaching this topic in such a strange

manner. Eris, Goddess of Strife and Discord was mindwiped by something
I’ve never encountered before. It was Tjenemit who ordered me to repair
her mind, whatever it took. Turned out, it wasn't quite as easy as I first
thought. Especially with a bunch of incompetent fools looking over my
shoulder and questioning every action I took.

“I do. Your doctors are ready to release her, but there is still some
damage,” I explain, trying to stick to the facts. If Eris’s treatment were
completely up to me, I wouldn’t let her go anywhere. “She is restored as
far as her mind is concerned, but I fear that she still lacks control over her
impulses. It comes with her domain, so I wasn’t able to fix that through
conventional means. If your people would allow me to use some advanced
techniques-”

“I fear that’s not possible,” Tjenemit cuts me off. He reaches up to

massage his chin. “Anything our own healers aren’t able to verify harbours
the possibility that you put some control trigger inside her. I know you
well enough to know that – given the chance – you would likely do so
without batting an eyelid.”

“Okay. Then what do you want? The other mind mages who are involved
in putting her back together can tell you that much. Why am I here?” I ask.

“Just for verification.” He shrugs. “So, you are saying that she is better, if
only a little more of a loose cannon than she was before?”

I purse my lips. “If you want to define someone with the domains of Strife
and Discord who lacks the ability to restrain herself as a loose cannon,
then yes.”

Sorry, but letting a goddess of her calibre run loose in the multiverse is a
bad idea.

“And there is nothing left that you can do for her, with it being
controllable by our physicians?”

I press my lips together. If those incompetent fools weren’t interfering

with Eris’s treatment sessions and looking over my shoulder at everything
I do, she would have been up and running around long ago, not confined to
her personal quarters.

Then I suddenly realize why Tjenemit is doing this. He is trying to verify

that he has done everything he can do within reason for a fellow Council
member. But his distrust of me doesn’t outweigh the fact that he wants for
Eris to get better. He is probably as displeased about me rummaging
through her mind as I am.
And let’s be real, they will never give me a chance to turn a Council
member into one of my puppets. So why am I fighting this development in
the first place? I just have to tell him that the rest of her affliction will
take care of itself with time. It would be a blatant lie, but people change
all the time. Who would know for sure that Eris isn’t the Eris she was
always meant to be?

“I think that if you are unwilling to accept an unconventional treatment,

one that your trusted physicians are unlikely to understand, then we have
done everything we could do to restore her mind. She will be different
after her experience, but she is a functional individual and even if her soul
was damaged, she will most likely recover with time. The main reason
why she still seems like a recluse is that she doesn’t get to talk to many
people inside that facility of yours. You have to remember that she lost a
large part of her memories.”

“Hm.” He turns back to look out of the window. “So she needs interaction
with the world to recover the rest of the way?”

“It would help,” I reply. Well, it would help, but probably not as much as
he hopes.

He sighs without looking back at me. “You are dismissed. Please take care
of your own business from now on. You have no longer a responsibility to
take care of Eris’s treatment.”

I nod and get up, then I leave his office and close the door behind me.

When the door is shut I can’t hold it in anymore. Pumping my fist I

scream, “Finally!” startling Tjenemits secretary who just came back into
the reception room with a stack of papers in her hand. Twitching, she drops
it, scattering everything on the ground.

Being a real gentleman, I leave without caring for her clumsiness, ignoring
the woman’s glare.
 Chapter 38

The World
Ascathon
The beach, the sun, and a bunch of beautiful females in swimsuits to
watch. There isn’t anything better in the world to forget about the mortals
and their squabbles.

I allow myself to take a peek at Ashley and Willow who are playing
volleyball against each other, bouncing happily around the playing field
without a care in the world. The elemental chose a green two-piece, while
the succubus decided to attend as she was born, showing not the slightest
hint of embarrassment at her nakedness. Admittedly, there isn’t a piece of
her body that’s not worthy to be shown off. When Willow made a
comment about her attire, she just pointed out that all the people present
had already seen her naked innumerable times.

“Hey, eyes here!” Karin complains. “I thought that you were going to teach
me something new! Instead, you are ogling the market.”

“Oh? So you would like me to ogle you instead?” With a smirk, I return
my attention to the beautiful woman who was once nothing more than a
girl. Her fusion with the draconic core and the enchantment on her eye
meshed well. With time, she managed to master the abilities I bestowed on
her.

She blushes. “You know exactly what I meant!”

Her red hair is hanging down into the sand as she does her best to balance
on her left hand while keeping a complex spell matrix ready for casting in
the other, angled ninety degrees away from her body. Thankfully, her slim
and athletic figure doesn't cause any problems with gravity upon
performing such a unique exercise. At the same time, I ordered her to
levitate three fist-sized stones around her, one clockwise, the others
counter-clockwise.

As if to thwart Ashley, Karin chose not to follow in her succubus teacher’s

nude debauchery and went for a simple, blue one-piece which allows for
perfect freedom of movement, while providing the most prim and proper
attire for a beach-scene, seeming not too prude at the same time.

I can't stop being amazed that even after all this time she refuses to adapt
to Ashley’s moral teachings. It doesn't mean that she didn't learn
everything the succubus matriarch had to offer in terms of magical
knowledge, but she still stuck proudly to her own morals.

“It seems to me like you are doing fine,” I reply with a grin, watching her
practising the exercise which I suggested for her further development, a
mixture of martial arts and magical training which requires both physical
control and mental fitness.

“Yes, it took me a few hours, but I am doing fine now,” Karin comments,
balancing steady on one hand which is complicated by the sandy and
therefore unsteady ground.

I smile, well aware that her eyes are glued to the stones which she is
smoothly circulating around, with her body as the centre. While she made
decent progress, she still has to reassure herself visually on the positioning
of the objects, something she has to correct before we can proceed to the
next training step.

Reaching up, I flick a finger at one of the stones, sending out a pulse of
force magic.

Surprisingly enough, Karin manages to keep her concentration and the

stone wobbles only a little bit out of its intended path. “Hey!” she
complains, but I have none of it, sending another pulse to poke her lightly
in the belly, right where her navel is.
“Gyargh!” Her spell matrix collapses as her musculature stiffens and she
instinctively tries to jerk away from the contact. Then she topples over
like a felled tree, her whole body slamming into the sand. Thanks to her
draconic upgrades, her increased weight causes the sand around her to
shake, just as if a ton of mass thudded heavily onto the beach.

No longer controlled, the stones fall to the ground, following the laws of
physics. Snorting, huffing, and puffing, she gets back to her feet. “That
was unfair! I am ticklish there,” she complains, rubbing her belly.

I shrug and gesture for her to get back to practice, knowing very well that
what I did couldn't possibly have hurt her. “It just shows that you aren’t
ready yet. Get back to training. You have to be proficient enough at this to
avoid getting interrupted by such little interferences. I will keep testing
you when you least expect it and we won't continue to the next step until
you manage to endure.”

Grumbling, she tries to shake the sand out of her hair, but gives up quickly.
There is no way to get rid of it all without a thorough shower.

Going for a fancy somersault backwards, she lands on her right hand this
time, using the left to form the spell matrix. Resuming her previous
position in reverse, she channels energy through the spell matrix and picks
up the three stones with force magic. “I don’t get the point of this. It
requires practically no energy, and thanks to my draconic perks my
muscles don’t tire at all.”

“He just wants to watch your lithe figure in lewd positions~” Ashley calls
over from her part of the beach, which Willow promptly uses to her
advantage, slamming down the volleyball in Ashley’s side of the playing
field.

“~Aw!” The succubus pumps one hand in indignation at the loss.

Karin narrows her eyes and looks down at herself – or up in this case,
given her position – making sure that I don’t get to see something I
shouldn’t.
“Don’t listen to her, she just wants to mess with you.” I sigh. “Seriously, I
have enough female companionship as it is. There is no reason to lust after
someone who is more like an adopted daughter than anything else.”

“Then why the strange exercise?” she asks, her suspicions rising thanks to
Ashley's comment.

“To train your concentration and your ability to multi-task,” I explain.

“The higher order spells require less power and more ability. Add to that
the fact that, as a god, you won’t lack so much in power, but more in
ability.”

“But I am not a god. I am not even immortal?” She cutely furrows her
forehead, searching for the meaning behind my words.

“Ah, about that immortal-bit I wouldn’t be so sure. You managed to

survive for quite some time, despite going on dangerous missions to
influence the war. Your aura has grown strong over the years.” I look back
at the holographic image of the sea, considering if I should switch the
scenery for something more exotic than a Caribbean island. Then again,
doing something like that would require switching out the real items too,
or the whole setting wouldn't fit anymore.

“R-really? Are you sure?” Karin asks, sounding more eager than before.

“Do you want to test it?”

“No!”

“Are you sure? With me around, you can avoid a large part of the memory
loss. I just have to catch your soul's anchor before it starts degrading.”

“I am certain,” she replies quickly, knowing very well that testing her
immortality would require her death.

I huff, sad that there won't be verification today. I would have even killed
her in a manner which wouldn't have hurt too badly. “Then you have to
trust in yourself. In any case, you have reached a point at which an
increase in raw power is hard to accomplish, and it’s best for you to learn
to use what you have in the most efficient way.”

Using force magic, I pick up another stone from the shore and toss it to
Karin who struggles to add it to the exercise.

“You have learned pretty much everything I can teach a mortal and you
already managed to come up with some noteworthy spells of your own.
The best way to proceed is to work on your control and to develop your
own style of magic. I can help you with the former, but the latter is
entirely in your hands. Then we can only hope that you will be ready,
should you ever be forced into a situation in which you happen to ascend.”

“How exactly does this ascension-thing work? And aren’t we trying to

avoid that from happening?”

I give her a brief nod. “In Willow’s case, yes. But ascension is hardly a
conscious process. You don't reach a certain point and simply choose to do
it. Willow is at the pinnacle of what’s possible for immortals. Be assured,
you aren’t in immediate danger of turning into a god. As for the ascension
itself, it usually happens in a situation of mortal danger and high stress.
Your mind has to transcend the limits of your body as you use your power
to its utmost.”

Karin remains stubborn. “Then I don’t understand why I have to focus on

control and concentration, instead of using my power to its utmost.
Wouldn't mastering that be a better preparation for the inevitable?”

“Because, once any of you ascends, it will very likely mean that all of us
will have to fight for our lives. The Council won’t turn a blind eye to a
new god, and they will most certainly take notice when it happens,” I
explain. “The more control you can exert over your godly powers right at
the beginning, the better for us. Being a god means that you have access to
almost unlimited power reserves. Newly ascended deities, even the weak
ones, don't struggle with a lack of power, but with actually being able to
use everything they have.”
I snort. “Many of the gods aren't weak because they lack power, but
because they are unable to use what they have effectively. In a fight with
another god, what use is the ability to set off an explosion strong enough
to shatter an entire world, if you are unable to focus all that energy enough
to actually break through your enemy's aura?

“That's the main difference between some of the mid-level deities and the
Council members. Those who don't have control over their powers may
blow up the world while the other party is cooly standing inside the blast
as if it's nothing more than a light breeze. In return, their enemy takes all
that power and shoves it into a space as large as my thumb, slicing cleanly
through the target's aura.”

Karin’s expression finally turns serious. “So this training exercise aims at
splitting my attention so that I can cast many different spells at once. The
more I can do at the same time, the more of my power I can use?”

I tilt my head from side to side. “In a way, though there are spells which
are so complicated to form that you need to assemble them from several
different spell matrices. That's where I want you to get.”

“Then what’s the goal of your exercise?” She points a perfectly shaped leg
at me, twisting her body to keep balance. “Using force magic to create a
little sandstorm around yourself seems hardly taxing.”

Furrowing my forehead and wondering what she means, I look down at the
ring of sand which is circling me at hip-height while I am sitting cross-
legged on the beach.

“Hahaha,” Willow laughs upon hearing Karin’s question. “Little butterfly,

didn’t you realize that he is doing the same exercise as you? He is
controlling each and every grain of sand individually.”

“What!? That’s impossible! How many are there?”

“Do the math yourself. I am playing with about a fourth of a cubic metre
of sand.” I shake my head. “I thought you realized what I was doing, but
now it seems that we have to take a step back and repeat the whole
perception-training.”

“P- please no! I will even take some more stones! Here!” Reaching out,
Karin picks up a few more stones from the shore, turning her exercise less
into a work of beauty, and more into a case of struggle. “See?”

“Just drop them before you give yourself a headache.” I sigh. “You can
increase the numbers one by one once you have complete control over the
current four. I also don’t think that going down that route all the way as I
did is the right thing for you to do. For your purposes, having sufficient
control over twenty independent objects should suffice. It's enough for the
spell-set I intend to teach you.”

“Then, why are you training with so many?”

“Preparation for the battle to come. I am afraid that this thing with Myrm
won’t end without us butting heads. And his martial arts are the perfect
counter to my spell-casting. The only way I can win is by overwhelming
him. I have to be one step ahead of him at every point. For that reason, I
need as much control as possible. Myrm went down a path of complete
control over his body and there is no way for me to match that in my
current state, nor do I want to. So if he has control over himself, then I
need control over the battlefield, it's as easy as that.”

Taking conscious notice of the little cyclone around me, I direct the sand
to form a cloud around me, then guide them to surround myself with ever
more complex glyphs and spell-circles. Adding to the complexity, I have
them spread out along different paths.

I frown in displeasure when I notice that I am reaching the limits of my

control, as some of the carefully crafted symbols start fraying at the edges.
It took me an eternity to train myself in entering a mental state in which I
would be able to perform this trick without having to put my complete
attention to the task, much like an expert juggler has to stop consciously
thinking about his actions at some point. Or like most people aren't even
aware of the beating of their own hearts, while others who perform
extreme sports managed to enter a state of mind which somewhat allows
them to control their own heartbeat.

With my trance-like concentration broken, I become aware of the myriads

of grains of sand and quickly lose my wits as I inadvertently try to
consciously control them. Giving up, I sigh in frustration and cut off my
magic, allowing the sand to fall back onto the beach. “So much for my
own control. Seems like that's my limit when it comes to showing off.”

Returning my attention to Karin, I realize that she turned away from me

and sat down on the beach with her knees pulled up to her chest, doodling
nonsensical symbols in the sand. “How many millennia will it take me to
get even close that? I can't even imagine how someone would be able to do
fifty at once...”

“I think you broke her.” Ashley comes over and pats Karin on the head.
“There, there, young one. Didn't he say that you don't necessarily have to
follow in his chosen path?”

“I don't understand. How can anyone do something so...” Karin searches

for the right word. “Insane! Yes, that's it. Unbelievable! I don't believe it!
He must have used some cheat! Maybe a mental augmentation device
from a technological dimension?”

“Hey!” I raise my voice at the accusation. As if I would ever do that!

Haven't I already taught her that using such things interferes with
someone's ability to wield magic? Which isn't to say that some deities
decide to use such short-cuts, crippling themselves in the process.

“Don't worry, dear,” Willow comes up to join Ashley. “Once, I asked Seria
about it and not even she can achieve such a feat. She thinks it's because
he messed with his soul that he is able to do something like that, split
personality and identity crisis and all that...”

“Heey!” Quit insulting me. “I don't have identity problems!”

“Then what's with that second body in your workshop?” Ashley asks.
“Or with the fact that you are still using it from time to time?” Willow
adds.

I purse my lips, hard pressed to find a proper answer. “I... have to use it...
from time to time... or I would grow unaccustomed to the different...
proportions.” Wait, no. That's not the correct reply.

All three women look at me with smug expressions, knowing very well
that I only dug my own grave a few feet deeper with that retort.

“Why are you ganging up on me!?” I snap.

“Because you are a man,” Ashley replies with a tone that someone would
use on a little child. “It's the natural thing to do for those of the female
gender to hold together. And Karin deserves some extra attention,
especially with an insensitive teacher like you.”

“Yeah,” Willow joins the man-bashing. “Who would have a student train
for hours on end, giving them hope at progress, just to shatter it all by
pulling off such a show?”

I raise a finger. “Can we stop, please? I have a feeling that this

conversation is derailing quickly. I messed up and apologize.” That counts
for something, right? Just get back to what you were doing before. It was
so peaceful just a few moments ago.

Karin's eyes widen. “Who cares whether you can control ten thousand
independent objects reliably or a million? Both numbers are insane for a
normal human mind!”

Gah! “Well! That's what I am teaching. Either take it, or leave it. It's not
my problem if the student is too intimidated by the task ahead of her. If
someone with your life-experience isn't able to handle the fact that there is
more in the multiverse than any single person can ever learn, then maybe
you should search for another teacher. You are an experienced adult, so
stop messing around.”
The three women study me for a few moments before they give me their
verdict.

“Socially inept.”

“Unable to adjust.”

“But his skills in bed make up for a lot of his failings...” Ashley swoons.

The other two women look at the succubus as if she just betrayed all of
womankind.

She just shrugs upon realizing that she is suddenly the focus of attention.
“What do you want from me? I just have different priorities compared to
you two. It's my nature.”
 Chapter 39

The World
Seria
“They are overdoing it...” Nazareth comments dejectedly as we watch one
of the Empire's flying fortresses pound away at the shields of an Alliance
border station, a vastly overpowered defensive installation. In return, the
Alliance forces answer with spells of a wide variety. Their spell projectors
light up the night, painting the scene with a deadly spectacle of flaring
energies as they dance across the fortress’ shields.

I huff, knowing very well that the whole exchange is futile. Their defences
are just too formidable, making it almost impossible for either side to
break through the shielding of the other. For the most part, the Empire is
just testing out the Alliance's border security.

“It's like a ritual to them,” I analyse. “They know well enough that the
Empire will retreat as soon as their shields are in danger of failing.”
Shaking my head, I turn away from the scene. “Their fight stopped being a
war long ago. By now it’s all they know with their hatred so deeply
ingrained into their souls that they wouldn’t stop if their gods ordered
them to.” Not that that would ever happen.

Marigold shrugs. “The more they are involved with each other, the fewer
people are praying to me, so I guess that it’s a good thing?”

His brother snorts. “Like always, you care only about your own hide.”

I ignore their bickering, for the time being, studying the battle beneath us.
Despite the power which is brought to bear, it’s by no means some attempt
at a decisive battle, but more like a border skirmish. An attempt to test out
the opponents' strength and if he would reveal any weaknesses.

Nazareth and Marigold invited me to watch for some reason or the other,
but up until now, they kept their lips shut about the reason. Instead, we
were just observing the proceedings in this godforsaken borderland
between the Empire and the Alliance. Over the millennia magical and
scientific weaponry took their toll on the land. The ongoing raging war
widened the former dead zone in the centre of the continent. What was
previously just called ‘The Blight’ is now just ‘The Border’, a piece of
wasteland which clearly separates the two forces and their ideologies.
Sadly enough, it’s profound enough to be visible from space, cutting a
jagged line of brown over the otherwise green main-continent of the
world.

Turning back to the two deities, I ask briskly, “So, why did you want me to
observe this?”

“We want you to stop it!” Nazareth replies. “We think that this has gone on
for long enough.”

I sigh, feeling like I already had this conversation far too often. “And what
makes you think that I can do anything to stop it?”

“You have influence on the two people who are responsible for this,” he
explains, waving a hand down at the battlefield above which we are
hovering.

Keeping my voice under control, I to explain it in as simple terms as

possible. “It’s true that I have some influence on Myrm and on Ascathon,
but both of them are too strong in character to simply listen to me if I told
them to stop. Why don’t you go to Myrm and tell her that she should
stop?”

“Because she doesn’t listen.” Nazareth shakes a little fist impotently at the
world.
“It’s no different for me.” I gesture down at the battlefield. “Besides, I
think this has gone far beyond the point at which Ascathon and Myrm
could step in and just tell their followers to stop. Fighting the other side is
ingrained in their blood by now. It’s nice that you want to stop it, but I
think it’s wishful thinking.”

Marigold clears his throat. “Excuse me, Seria, but it’s a little more than
that. Did you have contact with Myrm’s faction recently?”

I pause, trying to understand his meaning. “Of course. All the time.”

He shakes his head, looking downcast. “I don’t mean Myrm herself, but
her followers.”

Furrowing my forehead, I grow suspicious. Did I miss something major

going on? It’s highly unlikely since I am very confident in my spy-
network. “No? Is there something wrong with them? They are all idiots as
far as I am concerned.”

“They are up to something, I tell you!” Nazareth informs me, holding up a

warning finger.

I just roll my eyes at that brilliant observation. “They are always up to

something. That’s nothing new. Ever since Ascathon lost two of his demi-
gods and two of Myrm’s followers disappeared, both sides are watching
each other like hawks.” It’s honestly surprising how they managed to keep
the status quo all this time, but Ascathon’s retribution made Myrm a little
more cautious of him than I hoped for. So, ever since the disappearance of
two of her followers she has been building up her power.

Annoyingly enough, the keg is always right at the point before it boils
over, but not quite. I am ready to step in should it happen. Of course, I
could interfere, but just by doing so the first time I already leaned a little
farther out of the window than I wanted to.

No. If my age taught me anything, then it’s patience. I just need the
patience to wait and things will happen on their own. Having made sure
that everything is in place is more than enough.
“Normally, I would agree with you, Seria.” Marigold floats a little closer,
his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “But this is something different.
Over the last month, Nazareth and I have been mingling with Myrm’s
crowd, and they are up to something. We have nothing definitive to go by,
but there was talk that the insanity would soon end. I think that they intend
to attack Ascathon’s base of operations.”

I narrow my eyes and look down at the battlefield below us where the
fortress decided to retreat out of range of the enemy’s weapons, just as I
predicted. “How would they even know how to get there?” Aren’t I the
only one who even knows that he has a secure base?

Marigold shakes his head. “Seria, you are powerful. Even worse, you are
smart and patient, but sometimes you are as dense as a brick. You
shouldn’t underestimate the weaker deities, just because they can’t wield
your level of power. They are still smart enough to figure things out after a
few millennia of being involved with this world. I doubt that there is any
deity who doesn’t have at least a solid guess at what’s going on.”

Nazarath nods quickly. “And if I am correct, then Myrm doesn't realize or

care that those shitheads intend to break the status quo. Myrm is
calculating enough to know that a direct attack on Ascathon would end
with no victors, but her crowd isn’t that smart. Even if they ultimately fail
at whatever they are planning, their idiocy will force Myrm to take
action.”

I cover my mouth with a hand and run it down to my chin, considering this
new information. “Was I really too blind to see that?”

Of course, I was. I made the mistake of thinking of Myrm’s supporters as a

group of dogged little helpers who would just follow her orders without
having thoughts of their own. But they are gods. People who manage to
ascend have always strong and wilful characters. Keeping such people in
check indefinitely is only possible if their leader has an impressive
amount of strength and ability in leadership. Otherwise, they would sooner
or later question whether their leader would truly have the wisdom and
power – and therefore the right – to lead them.
Myrm has both of those qualities, but what nobody knows is that she is
seriously hampered by the world enchantment and therefore by her
inability to slam a fist onto the table to bring her followers to reason. It
doesn’t help that the Council hasn’t shown much interest in us over the
recent years.

“Are you sure? Will they act soon?”

“I have absolutely no clue,” Marigold admits. “The only thing we are

certain of is that they are about to do something stupid. I think that all of
us know what will happen if Ascathon is pushed into a corner. And we
shouldn’t forget Tjenemit. Recently, he hasn’t shown much interest in his
little project and allowed things to flow freely. That’s why those idiots
think that they can get away with their little plan. A few centuries of
inattention and they already think that they can go back to doing as they
please.”

Nazareth nods. “Those braindead maggots think that they can take the Mad
One, but if I am any judge of character, then I would say that Ascathon
would sooner wipe this world clean of life than to do nothing. As of now,
there are some things that are holding him back. Whether that’s the few
people he cares about, or the fact that he doesn’t want to rebuild his base,
doesn’t matter. If they provoke him and something happens to the reason
for him holding back, the gloves will come off faster than they might
think!”

It's no good if this new development would take me by surprise. I had

enough time to make contingency plans, and the contingency plans of the
contingency plans, but implementing those would take time and I am
forced to work with limited womanpower – myself. I must admit that
Myrm's followers acting on their own accord would have taken me by
surprise. Operating under the assumption that nurturing a close connection
to Myrm would be enough was a mistake. “Would you be willing to keep
an eye on them? It's really important for me to know when they are about
to strike.”

“Nonono.” Nazareth waves his hands as if trying to stop me. “You

misunderstood! We want your help to stop them before everything gets out
of control!”

Damn! How can I get their help without telling them too much? I assume
it would be bad to tell them that I actually want everything to go down the
sewer.

“Listen, I have a plan, but I don't think that you will like it,” I offer
tentatively.

Marigold raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “What's this plan of yours?”

Wetting my lips, I gather my thoughts to present this proposition in the

most benign light. “Listen, you two, I really don't think that we can stop
what's going to happen. Even if we succeed, it will only adjourn the hour
zero.” I pause, giving them time to come to terms with the thought. “It
might be better to see to it that the damage is limited.”

“You are kidding, right?” Nazareth throws his hands up. “There will be no
saving the world when Ascathon and Myrm butt heads. I've seen Myrm
fighting, and I've heard rumours about Ascathon battling that Dragon
Patriarch who thought it would be a good idea to oppose the Council.”

“I am not talking about the world.” Now it's time to hammer down the
hard truth. “I was talking about everyone who doesn't want to take part in
Ascathon's and Myrm's fight. And maybe we can pick up the pieces of
what's left when everything is over and done.”

Marigold furrows his forehead and looks down at his feet. “But the
Council-”

“Will be dealt with by me,” I interrupt, hoping that I sound confident. “I

know, it sucks, but sometimes you only have bad options to choose from.”

“If you want to involve the Council, then why don't we go and warn
Tjenemit right now?” Nazareth suggests. “Before-”

“No!” I call out with a firm voice, deciding that now is the time to
persuade the two and to pull them onto my side. “Right now is the worst
possible moment to go to Tjenemit. All you can do at this point is to point
fingers and make accusations. In the best case he will decide to do
nothing, in the worst case he will deal out punishment in an attempt to cow
us into submission. And most likely it will hit the innocent as well as the
guilty. He has shown a lot of leniency, but only because the cases were a
little blurry and there was no clear information. If you tell him that a
group from his little pantheon is planning a premeditated attack, the
gloves will come off.”

“So you suggest for us to wait until everything is over, then call in the
Council once everyone has clearly associated himself with one side or the
other. Let the truly guilty be punished, rather than to take the risk of
putting ourselves on the line,” Marigold summarizes.

I nod. “I haven't become this old because I tend to fight battles I can't
win.” Making eye-contact first with Marigold, and then with Nazareth, I
hope to convince them. “This is clearly a case in which it's better just to
cut our losses and to move on. We can’t change what’s bound to happen.
The only thing we can do is to save those who want no part in the
fighting.”

Nazareth shakes his head, making it clear that he doesn’t buy the load of
bullshit which I just tried to sell to the brothers. His expression says it all,
namely that he thinks that I could stop the war if I just stood up and gave a
demonstration of my power, cowing those idiots who allowed themselves
to be pulled into this maelstrom of war and hatred.

I wouldn’t be able to say if he is right or not. Maybe I could take control

over this pantheon and put everyone to heel, make them lick my shoes in
terror. Over the aeons, I amassed more than enough power to rival the
Council.

However, that’s not my nature, nor my wish.

I am a God of Life and Death and something tells me that this world has
reached the end of its lifespan. In addition, my goals reach far beyond this
puny world which is currently nothing but an obstruction to my plans.
Ultimately, not even the Council matters, but what comes after. If I were to
set my plans in motion I wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of the past.

Thankfully, Marigold seems to be of a different opinion than his optimistic

brother. The big half-orc lets out a long sigh and looks down at his better
half. “Brother, I hate to say this, but she may be right.”

Nazareth gasps and turns to face his brother, looking like Marigold just
delivered the ultimate offense. “How can you say this! I asked you to
come so that you could help me persuade her, not stab me in the back.”

“She is right, though. We can’t go to the Council and stopping those

maniacs will be nothing more than a little reprieve. Sooner or later they
will find a reason to jump each other like manic beasts. And it’s not even
their fault. Under normal circumstances, we may have been able to distract
them enough from each other’s machinations so that the ultimate conflict
could be avoided. But this cursed World Enchantment is pitting us against
each other again and again. Some people just can’t deal with that kind of
provocation forever.”

He turns to face me. “I can’t say that I am happy about your suggestion,
but I will try my best to be of assistance when things blow up. Though I
have no clue how to go about this. Our faction, the neutral one, may be
bigger than Ascathon’s or Myrm’s, but that doesn’t mean that the battle-
lines will be clear. People have gotten to know each other across the
factions and I am sure that there are quite a few who count themselves as
neutral, but would be drawn into the fighting one way or another, and if it
was just in order to help a friend.”

I nod, affirming what I assumed to happen right from the start. “This
won’t be a clean and easy battle as the light-aligned deities may think.
This will be a war of the gods and there won’t be much left afterwards. I
suggest you stretch out your feelers and try to discern who is worth
helping and who is better off being left to his or her fate.”

“I have another proposition,” Nazareth intercedes. “What if we join

them?”
Looking down at him, I feel a sense of dismay at his refusal to see the
world as I want him to.

“Seria, I don’t know what you see in Ascathon, but I know that even if you
meet with his friends regularly, you are no friend of his. What if we solve
this issue by convincing everyone that he has to be taken down? The whole
pantheon can take him down. We would have to deal with Tjenemit, but we
could argue that it had to be done to prevent worse. Everyone knows his
reputation. The Council will believe us if we cook up a convincing story.”
He nods to himself. “We don’t even have to touch his followers. I am sure
that if we get everyone to work together, with Myrm and her people on our
side, we could keep the damage to a minimum. And then we start cleaning
up this mess.”

A wry smile steals itself onto my face, but I banish it quickly as old
memories of a long-forgotten time drift to the surface of my
consciousness. Memories of another war of the gods, and how the true
creators of the Crystal City fell. It was so long ago that even the memories
seem like a blurry dream, but I somehow – forcefully – kept them in the
back of my mind. If not to give me something to strive for, then not to
forget the important lesson I learned that day.

“No.” I return my attention to the presence. “Sure, if you take everyone in

our pantheon and pit them against Ascathon, you will take him down.”

Nazareth’s left eye twitches in annoyance. “What’s your deal? You say no,
but then you imply that we can take him.”

I nod. “You will take him, but when you are done, you most certainly
won’t like the price you had to pay,” I explain calmly, then return my
attention to Marigold. “We do what I suggested.”

Thankfully, the half-orc nods.

 Chapter 40

The Crystal City

Ascathon
“What's taking so long?” I ask for what must have been the seventh time,
glaring down at the clerk behind his desk.

The man isn't fazed by my intimidating demeanour, knowing that the

Council’s laws grant him protection – for now. Instead, he continues to
concentrate on his documents. “Patience. There was some delay with an
unexpected candidate. Just wait over there until we are ready. We are doing
our best to catch up with the appointed schedule.”

I narrow my eyes, wondering why I am the only one who has to wait, while
others are pushed up the line of waiting people. “Then tell me when I can
come back. You already kept me waiting here for two hours. I refuse to
waste even more time with bureaucracy.”

“Now, now.” The clerk looks up from his papers. “You know as well as I do
that the millennial check-up on a god's powers and abilities isn't voluntary.
The Council has decreed that the powers of every deity under their rule has
to be catalogued. Failing to show up would automatically turn you into an
outlaw. And we don't want that, do we?”

Grinding my teeth, I return to the waiting area in the back.

“Stupid paperwork. Would it be so hard to give a warning that everything

is delayed by two or three hours? Feels like I am back to being forced to
obey some idiotic mortal government...”
 The World
Karin
“Are you sure that we can't call Ascathon about this?” I ask Willow,
watching worriedly as the Alliance forces advance all over the border
between the Empire and the Alliance. They already took horrific losses for
running into our fortified positions, seemingly not caring about paying
every inch of ground with their blood. The fighting has gone on for as long
as I can remember, but there is something fishy about this recent attack.
They never tried an all-out war like that. Up until now, they cared at least
as much as us about their people.

An hour ago Ashley called us into her command room, a part of

Ascathon's secret base which the succubi turned into their spy-centre. And
from there the bad news started coming in.

The walls are lined with computer workstations and there are several desks
which are covered with maps and documents. Four of Ashley's daughters
are dutifully doing their work, showing their competence in something
that not everyone would associate with their kind. In the centre of the large
room is a human-sized projector, creating the three-dimensional vision of
a large globe floating freely at the ceiling. Currently, the world's main-
continent is highlighted with several red zones marking areas of conflict.
Whichever parts of the border aren't marked in red are tinged in orange to
indicate the threat of an impending engagement, either because of troop
movements or for some other unknown reason.

The atmosphere is heavier than usual, making it clear that everyone has
suspicions that something fishy is going on.

“Yes, we have to deal with this ourselves. Ascathon said that he would be
busy with getting his license as a citizen of the Crystal City updated. The
Council is very strict about that, so we can’t expect him back before that’s
done.” Willow shakes her head. “But you are right. I am afraid that this is
just a distraction. They must know that our mortal followers won't fall that
easily. It may seem like they are winning at the moment, but with the
losses, they are taking they won’t be able to hold those territories once our
reinforcements arrive. They will either have to retreat, or leave their core-
territories vulnerable, so there must be a bigger plan behind this attack.”

“Don't worry,” Ashley replies soothingly in an attempt to keep Willow

calm. “He wouldn't be able to help in this matter anyway. Remember the
rules? Our mortal puppets should be more than-”

Her words are cut short when the ground suddenly shakes, reminding me
of an earthquake.

“Earthquake?!” One of the other succubi in the room asks, just to be

reprimanded by one of her sisters.

“Don't be ridiculous! We are too deep inside the planet to feel tectonic
movements!”

Realizing that she is right, I quickly walk over to one of the computer
terminals and call up the base’s environmental information. “The
enchantments are drawing more power than usual and it says that the
shields are under more stress than would be normal.” I gasp when the base
shakes again.

Willow finally realizes what's going on and waves her hand to get
everyone’s attention. “Somebody is trying to get through the shields! We
have to get out of here.”

The succubus matriarch reacts without hesitation and I step further away
from her so that I am not in the way. Ashley is in the midst of opening a
portal when suddenly the ground jumps right into my face.

I must have blacked out because when I regain my senses it's dark and the
room is only illuminated by emergency lights. Willow pulls me to my feet
by unceremoniously gripping my shirt, which causes me to silently thank
myself for wearing only sturdy, high-quality garments. Having my shirt
ripped off would be the height of my day right now.
“We have been breached,” one of the succubi, Lea, informs us as she pulls
herself back to her feet punching a large button on the wall next to her.
“Activating security protocols!”

“Get your act together, kid.” A slap from Willow brings me back out of
my stupor.

I didn't even realize that I had been zoning out, totally shocked at having
the only place attacked at which I ever felt truly safe and at home. “We
have to get out of here,” I affirm, hoping that I won’t freeze up that easily
again.

I want to protest being called a kid at my age, but I guess if someone has
the right to, then it's people like Willow, Ashley, and Ascathon. Willow
pulls me towards Ashley who is trying hard to open another portal,
succeeding even though there is a deep cut on her forehead.

The portal opens as a red ring chaotic energies, slicing a table in two
which was unfortunate enough to be in the way. A quick kick from me
clears the rubble, allowing us easy access.

Things go completely to hell when there is a bright flash of light, and

some incomprehensible power presses down on me as some being beyond
my pay-grade materializes inside the room. I immediately know that it
must be a god, having felt this presence from Ascathon at more than one
occasion. He called the effect an aura.

It still overwhelms me, locking my muscles in place and forcing me to

fight, just to keep standing.

Cursing, Willow shoves me through the portal as Lea falls screaming, her
chest run through by some bolt of light which originated from the
newcomer. Another of Ashley’s daughters steps towards the intruder, but a
blast of power snaps her upper body like a twig, flooring all of us.

Again, it’s Willow who shoves me through the portal, thankfully following
close behind. Willow and two of Ashley's daughters make it through
before our attacker decides to charge Ashley when he realizes that we are
getting away. Barrelling into her like some enraged boar, he takes her off
her feet before she can step through the portal. As she loses control over
her spell, the last thing I get to see from the succubus matriarch is her
writhing beneath her attacker before the portal closes.

“That's not good,” one of the succubi observes calmly and I realize that it
was Isabella who made it out with us.

Still worried about Ashley, I pull my gaze away from the spot where the
portal was and turn my attention to our surroundings. What greets me is
another world, a lush grassland with strange and unnatural seeming
plants... and a burning castle.

What strolls out of the castle's gates is another deity, someone I recognize
from the intelligence reports. Holding onto a mangled wing, he pulls one
of Ashley's succubi after him through the castle's broken gates, her body
maimed and mutilated beyond recognition. Clenching my jaws, the only
thing I can do is to hope that the woman had a clean death, but it doesn’t
look like it.

Lesh, God of Morals, smiles upon seeing us and bows with a flourish.
“Welcome home, my lovelies. I already thought that I wouldn't get any
action at all when they told me to wait here in order to pick off any
survivors. But it seems like I actually got to do most of the work! That
castle was a pool of sin and debauchery like I have never seen before. I
just had to cleanse the wretched place. It helps that this is a different
dimension. Tjenemit said not to interfere in the world, but I doubt he
meant this place, so I don't think that someone would be able to blame me
for breaking the accords! Hahahaha.”

Growling like some animal, Isabella launches herself at the god, spitting
some curse in a strange and guttural tongue. Lesh doesn't even bother
himself with her and just waves a hand, picking Isabella up with force
magic and launching her body into the castle wall behind him. She impacts
like a cannonball with a sickening 'crunch' and crumbling stone, causing
an entire section of the wall to collapse. I want to jump forward and help
her, but something tells me all I would achieve would be sharing her fate.
Shaking his wrist, the deity looks at us in dismay. “Too much force on this
one. I have to hold back if I don't want this to be over too soon.”

The World
Ashley
I writhe against the man's grip, trying my best to wriggle free, but the god
holds me tightly as if I am nothing more than a toddler. He just killed two
of my daughters in front of me and I couldn't do anything to stop him.
How did he even get in here so quickly? There should have been more than
enough time to flee in case of a security break. They must have somehow
known what to expect when they prepared this attack. Maybe they found a
way to slip one of their numbers in?

“Hold still.” He forces me down by leaning his full weight onto me. “If
you don't resist you have a chance at surviving this. We just want a few
hostages, that's all. Once we have dealt with Ascathon you are free to
return to the infernal planes for all I care.”

His voice breaks through my instinct to fight and, finally, I manage to

regain my wits. Succubi don’t fight their fists! I overreacted, but it’s been
a long time since anyone dared to physically attack me.

Allowing my magic to flow out of me and around us, I breath out deeply,
directly into his face in an attempt to charm him. Cooing, I cup his cheek
in my hand as his pupils dilate in lust. “You are Malfious, Deity of Truth
and Righteousness? I think we haven't met before?” I giggle. “At least not
in person.”

He blinks, trying to clear the fog in his mind. Then he grabs my upper
arms and forces them down to my sides so that I can’t touch him anymore.
“I was warned about your kind. Quit trying to play those mind-games with
me.”
I silently applaud him. Most mortals would be already inside my skirt. But
he also didn’t catch just any succubus. Instead of trying to push him away,
I raise my legs slowly as not to startle him and close them around his
waist, rubbing my pelvis against his crotch. “If you aren't trying to kill me,
then why don't we have some fun?”

“No...” He shakes his head in an attempt to free himself from my charm

and blinks rapidly. “I have to... get you... to...”

He clearly struggles against my mental suggestions as I spin a web of my

mana around us, but thanks to him being so close to me, he is also under
the full effect of my pheromones. Seemingly aware of the danger, he leans
away from me, still holding onto my upper arms. Following his
movements, I lean forward and – thanks to a little shapeshifting – manage
to lick the bare skin on his neck, causing him to shudder. His arms buckle
a bit and I use the chance to plant my lips on his, pushing my tongue into
his mouth. Meanwhile, I perform a little miracle with my tail and loosen
his belt with the tip.

There is so much power within him that it's blinding my senses, but it isn't
something I am unused to after years of having happy evenings with a
certain other god. I just hope that we have the time to finish this before
someone shows up looking for him.

He is resisting, so any interruption might mean that he manages to break

what little sway I have on him.

“Ah~” I let out a moan of delight as I manage to slip my tail between his
skin and clothes, pulling down his trousers, causing his cock to spring free.
Shimmying around, I free my chest from the black leathers I am wearing
and rub my moistness onto his genitals.

“Damn!” He bucks involuntarily and lowers his upper body a little,

lessening the distance between us.

Using my tail, I pull my panties aside.

“Mh~” Feeling the burning fire in my belly, I hook my ankles behind his
buttocks and pull myself closer, positioning myself just so that his tip
touches my entrance. He seems reluctant to take the final step, but when I
give a little encouragement with my tail he lunges forward and buries
himself deep within me.

Moaning and crying encouragements, I allow him to rock back and forth
on top of me until he lets go of my arms to get better purchase. Embracing
him, I smother my breasts against his chest, complimenting him on that
splendid six-pack of his. Hearing my approval, his movements grow
urgent and erratic until he moans and spills himself deep inside of me.

Pushing him up a little, I give him a show of my flexibility by turning

around, moving my legs without letting him pop free. Now on all fours, I
grab his arm and, rocking my bottom backwards, pull him on top of me
until he gets the idea and cups my dancing breasts, returning to his duty.

He rides me to another climax and I make sure show my delight with little
squeals when he bumps my burning core with his erection until he groans
and shudders on top of me, reaching his second climax.

Getting into an upright position on his knees, he pulls out, which leaves
me with an aching emptiness, so I am quick to turn around and to
deepthroat his erection inside my mouth. Using all my muscles to suck
and purr around him, I cover him with my saliva until he loses control of
his spinal cord.

With him sinking down onto his back I am quick to be on top of him,
plunging him deep into the burning fire inside my belly. Going for a final
ride, I make sure to contract and relax my abdominal muscles in an
attempt to unleash the feeding frenzy which I always deny myself with
Ascathon.

Urging him on, I feel the magical channels throughout his body, now
clearly sensible thanks to my own magic seeping into him throughout our
intercourse. Ever so slowly, I gain complete control over his body,
weakening the bonds within him.
With a final shudder, he pushes up into me and I lose control of my fire as
my lower body takes on a life of its own with him exploding inside me.
Moaning, I feel him spill his essence into me as if an unending flood broke
loose within him.

Weakly, he tries to push me off of him as he finally realizes what's

happening. “Wha... what are you doing?”

Growling, I slap his feeble hands away and pin them down next to his
head. Smiling, I feel his life flowing into me, giving me so much pleasure.
His pathetic writhing turns annoying, so I lie down on top of him, pushing
my chest against him to seal his movements. Then I whisper into his ear to
complete the ancient ritual. “You are mine now. Thou have given yourself
to me thrice, freely, and without strings attached, so you are mine to take.”

“M- m- m- Monster!”

“Aw~! Have you never visited the Infernal Planes? There is a reason why
many immortals stay well away from that dimension.” I lick my elongated
tongue across his cheek, relishing the taste of his fear. Then I feel my
muscles clenching around him involuntarily, giving me a rush of
excitement as I sit up and lean back, shifting into my original form.

Spreading my large wings behind me, I feel my horns elongate and catch
fire. The ancient runes which are carved into my skin burn with the pain of
renewed pleasure. “Do you feel that? That pull on your soul? I think you
are ready.” Grinding against him, I cup one breast and place a hand on the
symbol which is glowing in a deep red on my abdomen. Rubbing the area,
it’s almost as if I can feel him twitching inside as my lower half starts
sucking on him – not only in a physical sense.

His eyes roll up in their sockets and he starts twitching as if he has an

epileptic attack. Foam is coming from his mouth and his teeth chatter, but
it doesn't matter to me as I feel his soul loosening from his physical body.
He resists my pull for a moment, and I relax my hold on him expertly as to
give him false hope and the moment he relaxes, I rip him free.
Screaming in delight, I clench my legs together and raise his hips off the
ground with mine as delicious energy, his soul, and something more flows
into the churning fire within me, flinging me over the edge.

“Whoa!”

It takes over a minute for me to come down from the rush of taking a god's
soul.

“A girl could get used to this.” Looking down at his dried up and empty
husk, I notice that the symbol on my abdomen has grown in size and
intensity. Additionally, I feel like I got something more than just a mere
soul from him. “Mh, maybe I should have taken the risk of drinking a god
dry a little sooner. Who knew that there is something to gain from that?”
But the only one who ever dared to visit me was Ascathon, and he was
always such a cute boy. It would have been like snapping a kitten's neck,
so I couldn't bring myself to do it.

At last, my abdominal muscles finally unclench and the empty husk slips
free from my nether's grasp, allowing me to stand on shaky legs. Then I
inspect myself. “Why do men always have to make such a mess?”

Looking down, I spit on the corpse and step on his still erect flag, crushing
it.

“That's what a succubus calls ~Well Fucked!~”

Then I kick his head. The dried up flesh and bone break easily and his head
flies against the wall where it shatters. “And that's for my daughters.”
 Chapter 41

The Infernal Planes

Willow
“Felicia, Karin, run while I buy you time,” I instruct the remaining
succubus and my pupil. At the same time, I do my best to unleash all my
power, hoping to break down the restrictions I put on myself with
Ascathon's help. There is no time to pay any more attention to them, the
being in front of me is just too dangerous.

Hopefully, they will be smart enough to open a portal at the earliest

opportunity to escape.

Raising my hands in a defensive posture, I channel pure mana through my

body and a halo of light surrounds me as I inadvertently lose control of
some of the energy.

By applying the techniques Ascathon taught me for control in reverse, I do

my best to forcefully break through to the next stage of my development.
There is no doubt that forcefully ignoring millennia of self-imposed
limitations will have a price. That is if I even manage to ascend. As far as
I am aware, no immortal ever tried to forcefully suppress the ascension.
Maybe my divinity will be like an atrophied muscle, stunted and weak
compared to even the least of deities?

First, my skin tingles, then my muscles cramp up from the surge of power
within me, but I don't back off, demanding ever more, more than a mere
mortal body would have to give. Pain wrecks through me as I quickly
reach my limits, seething agony demanding for me to stop, but I ignore it,
clenching my teeth.

Lesh, God of Morals, tilts his head – his expression en evident show of
bemusement. “You wish to challenge me in order to protect your friends?
Who do you think you are?” His eyes wander over my body, staying stuck
where they definitely shouldn’t be. The pupils emit a glow in a dim golden
light as he tries to assess the power leaking away from me in waves. Too
weak for a god, but too strong for a mortal.

“I am Willow,” I smile, barely able to hide the effects of channelling so

much power. “And I will be the one who kills you for doing this to my
friends.”

“Hahaha.” He shakes his head. “Not a chance. You are an immortal at most
– someone who is able to reincarnate. I feel no spark of divinity from you,
even with you pulling off this light-show.”

He is trying to plant the seed of doubt in my mind.

“I hope to correct that in order to protect my friends,” I announce

haughtily, trying my best to banish even the smallest sliver of indecision.
If Ascathon is right about a god's power depending purely on their own
state of mind, then I have no room for any feelings of insecurity. I can do
this! Millennia of preparations, just for a moment like this. I am ready. I
was ready for a long time.

Lesh, God of Morals, smiles and raises a hand towards me, apparently
intending to just wipe me from existence. The blood on him is in stark
contrast to his golden-haired, angelic features. He has a sleek, almost
youthful face, right at the edge to adulthood.

Weren't it distorted by an expression of cruel excitement, I would have

considered him dating material. In a church, attaching a halo to his head
and pinning some wings onto his back would have turned him into a
perfect angel.
I blink and ready myself for the blow which is about to come. There is no
doubt in my mind that this fellow’s appearance is just a mask. It’s just too
perfect.

He stops, looking at me in a contemplative manner. “You know, protecting

your friends, that’s an act I can agree with. It’s a noble thing to do, even if
it doesn’t matter whether they run away or not. I’ll find them wherever
they go.”

Or not! I am sure that Karin and Felica are opening a portal as we speak.
Even if they can’t walk the dimensions like real gods, they should be able
to get away.

Waving his hand in a circling motion he gestures in the direction where

Karin and Felicia ran off to. “Why don’t we make a bet? It doesn’t matter
to me whether two weaklings like them get away. So, I’ll play with you a
little – without using my full strength. And if you manage to get past one
minute without being broken, I won’t pursue them.” He smiles, making it
seem like he just gave me the offer of all offers.

I clench my fists in a futile attempt to control the raging energy within me.
Only by digging my fingernails into the skin of my palms, I manage to
distract myself from the pain in my chest.

“You will regret this! Transmutation!” Raising a hand, I throw my magic

at the ground beneath him in an attempt to encase him in a wave of earth,
one of my favourite spells.

“Teleport!”

Appearing behind him, I am just in time to witness him incinerating the

entire area in front of him with a huge jet of flame, turning hundreds of
meters into a raging inferno and cancelling out my spell by interrupting its
spell-matrix.

Unable to appreciate the performance, I raise both hands against Lesh’s

back. “Disintegration!”
A ray of red energy spills forth from my hands, hitting him dead centre in
the back. But his shield catches the incoming energy, dispersing and
breaking the channelled spell, resulting in our surroundings being cut to
pieces as the ray fragments. Whatever remained of this dimension’s
strange flora quickly surrenders to my magic.

“More!” I need more power!

Unimpressed, Lesh turns around, lazily swiping a hand at me. The force
spell hits me like a brick, and for a moment my world turns black as I feel
myself tumbling through the air like a thrown doll.

It doesn’t matter. “More...”

I teleport again, conserving my momentum to appear just to his right in

order to ram my own shield into his.

Surprised, Lesh stumbles sideways as if someone shoved him. Surely more

by giving in to his combat instincts than from having respect for his
opponent, he teleports by using the pathways.

The spark of lightning feels similar to when Ascathon took me to places

and I reach out for that power, following in Lesh’s wake.

When I appear in an unfamiliar landscape, probably far away from the

castle, I feel the high of a small victory.

Not wanting to lose my momentum, I pull on more power and repeat

hurling myself into his shield.

Unconcerned with the resulting shockwave of our collision he regains his

bearing as our immediate surroundings and a part of a distant lake are torn
asunder.

“More!” Clapping my hands together, I aim a sonic attack at Lesh,

assuming that his defences have trouble with protecting him against
attacks with a physical component. He didn’t waver when I attacked him
with a pure energy-spell, but he countered my earth-attack instead of
taking it head-on. Ramming him with my shield showed also more results
than the Disintegration spell.

The self-proclaimed god winces and retaliates with a ball of glowing,

golden energy.

Again, my shields are tested to their limits as I just barely avoid the
attack, only to be blown away by an explosion on the scale of a small
tactical nuke. Somehow, I notice the rest of the lake being dispersed
amidst the agony raging through my body.

It really seems like I am not ready for a forced ascension.

“More.” Something shatters in my chest and I feel power pouring forth

like an endless ocean.

With me still flying in free fall, Lesh appears right in front of me,
delivering a kick to my belly that sends me flying like a broken toy, his
foot covered in golden flames. A mountain passes beneath me, and it still
doesn’t seem like I am on the height of my ballistic trajectory.

The humiliation! I am not a football!

Thankfully, the thought of my own humiliation allows me to regain the

right state of mind and using force magic, I halt myself mid-air and wait,
stretching out my senses. Using the pathways might be more natural to a
god and superior to a normal teleport-spell, but it’s also flashy, announcing
a person’s arrival just a moment before they can orient themselves.

This time I catch his use of the pathways early enough to counter-attack.
Noticing the incoming flash of conjuration ripping the natural fabric of the
multiverse apart, I pull back my fist – but not for a simple punch. By
creating the spell-matrix directly on my knuckles, I intend to guide a
channelled force spell directly at my enemy, which should allow for the
most force possible.

Spinning my whole body, I strike right into the blinding light beneath me,
summoning all my power, imagining it pouring forth from my fist in an
explosive discharge that goes on, and on without end.

‘Crack!’

My hand shatters upon impacting something, and then the mountain range
beneath me comes apart as if hit by a projectile.

Even though I just put everything I had behind this single attack, my mana
rapidly replenishes and the pain within me quickly turns unbearable once
more. Raising my good hand, I follow up with a simple fireball, pouring
power into it without care. What was intended as a simple fireball turns
into the resemblance of a meteorite coming down from the heavens. The
red flame descends downwards to where I suspect Lesh to be.

Moments later the earth comes apart where my spell hit, erupting in a
mockery of a super-volcano.

Something wells up from inside me, giving me heartburn, and I try not to
puke. Instead, I swallow what tastes like blood. It’s better to think of me
having eaten something bad. Yes, no reason to stop now.

Lesh appears in front of me, looking worse for wear, but well enough to
fight on. His left eye is closed, with blood welling up from inside. It looks
like I gave him the mother of all black eyes. Additionally, his clothes look
a little singed, so it’s likely that my last two attempts managed to get
through his shield.

“It seems like I underestimated your potential. But you are clearly unable
to keep this up indefinitely.” He tilts his head, causing his spine to creak as
misaligned bones reset themselves.

Unable to help myself, I grin, revealing what he somehow noticed anyway.

Blood pours fourth my mouth and I gurgle to recite the mantra I decided
upon. “Mg… ohr… re...” More Power! Enough power to smite my foes
and to protect my loved ones. He won’t get to Karin or the others. I’ll stop
him before that.
Propelling myself into him, we collide, but he holds his ground as pure
energy cascades away from the point where our shields intersect. It’s still
not enough, so I press forward, willfully abandoning the sane option of
retreat, but in my mind, I have already committed. There is no retreat, and
likely no victory after I broke my limits. But the least I can do is to take
the fucker down with me.

Our shields shatter, but we are still held apart by some invisible force – an
aura – I realize.

“More!” Reaching out, I push into his defences with my bare hands, trying
to force the power which I can’t hold out of my palms and into his shields.
There is another feeling of something with me breaking. Lesh’s face is a
mask of intense concentration as he gives his everything to hold me off.

The strange feeling in my chest registers in my head, but it doesn’t matter.

My hands are through, and I scream in triumph! Who cares that the skin is
flaking off? Or that the world turned white all around us?

I have my hands on the asshole’s neck and he won’t get away. Ignoring his
wriggling and kicking, I squeeze until there is a satisfying ‘crunch’. Then
nothing. Lesh stops his struggles abruptly, going limp in my hands.

“I… am… more…”

My head feels suddenly as if it’s packed in cotton. Feeling dizzy, I let go of

Lesh, his eyes wide open in disbelief and his face bright red from being
strangled to death. His body falls, down, down, into a sea of molten red.

I just have time to realize that the landscape we fought in is gone, replaced
by a field of magma as far as I can see. Deep down, Lesh’s body turns to
ashes in a puff of smoke as it impacts the surface.

Good.

My whole body sacks as my power wanes and I try to grasp for the
slightest bit of energy, just a little bit for a healing spell. But there is
nothing… the feeling of a pool of mana in my chest is just… gone.
Someone grabs my good hand, holding me aloft with force magic. Turning
my head just right, I look at the newcomer. “Seria?”

“Yes.” The blonde goddess smiles at me sadly. “Seems like I just came in
time to collect.”

“I don’t feel so good...” I cough out, feeling something rasping in my

lungs and instead of blood, there is just a thick, red foam, keeping me
from breathing properly.

“Yeah, dying sucks.” She shakes her head. “You broke both of the cores
Ascathon gave you as a safety measure to keep you from awakening. Why
did you have to run off to another plane? If it hadn’t taken so much time to
follow, I may have been able to prevent this from happening.”

Ah, so that was the strange sensation? Ascathon, you weasel. “So… the
cores… were a… safety-fuse?” He always told me that they would
increase my power, but in truth, they were limiting me.

“Something like that. I would heal you, but you broke this body by
awakening in the way you did. There isn’t just physical damage.”

“Karin?” I ask, wanting to know at least that much.

“She and Felicia are fine. I, uhm, brought them to safety while you
decided to have a stand-off with that other god. Didn’t want to show
myself as long as there was a chance of him running off, you know,
keeping my neutrality and all that. I also hoped that he wouldn’t be too
eager to kill you.”

“It’s… okay… then… you helping… now?” I try to exhale the bloody
foam, but all I achieve is another coughing fit.

Seria winces, clearly unhappy with my current state. “I am sorry, but I am

actually following my own agenda. Though I have an offer for you and
believe me, the offer is worth your consideration.”
 The Infernal Planes
Seria
I lay down Willow’s body some paces away from the succubus-castle’s
crumbled remains, hoping that the location would get things to move on a
little easier. So many things to do, and so little time. Hopefully, I get to
Ashley in time.

“They really went for the jugular when they finally decided to move,” I
mumble, talking to myself. Worse, I almost didn’t make it in time.
Though, it remains to be seen if I manage to get to Ashley.

Just as I am thinking that thought, I feel someone’s arrival through the

pathways and Ashley appears in a flash of light.

The succubus matriarch looks different from when I last saw her.
Somehow more radiant, shining with life. Her horns are longer and on fire
with some form of ghostly essence. Additionally, there are glowing runes
all over her almost naked body – which she tends to show off quite readily.

Ashley’s eyes wander over the scene of destruction, staying stuck on the
remains of her castle for quite some time. That is, until she notices me and
the body at my feet.

Walking quickly, she approaches in long elegant steps, unable to hide her
nature even in a situation like that.

The corner of my mouth twitches upwards when I notice that spark of

power within her that’s natural to all gods. “It seems like congratulations
are in order.”

Ashley looks down at Willow’s body and then back at me. “Seeing this, I
don’t feel like celebrating. How did she die?” Her eyes narrow clearly
suspicious of me.

I sigh, well aware that Ashley never came to trust me completely. “She
protected Karin and Felicia from one of Myrm’s followers. They must
have traced you back to this place at some point and decided to destroy
any obvious rallying points to which you would retreat.”

“The bastard got away?”

“No.”

“So you killed him? I thought you are neutral.”

“Well, I am.” I clap my hands together, wringing them in an attempt to

find the right words. “Willow killed him, and I arrived just in time to save
Willow. Doing so stretches my neutrality a bit, but I doubt it matters in
this case. In fact, I was just about to go looking for you. But you coming to
me also saves me a lot of troubles.”

She glances down at Willow’s body. “It doesn’t look like you saved
Willow.”

I purse my lips. “Right. I guess you aren’t that familiar with reincarnation
and all that stuff, given your nature. This body may be broken, but I
collected her soul before permanent damage could be done.”

Ashley studies me for a long moment before she nods. “Then we have to
go to find Ascathon now and regroup with the others. It would be nice if
you could guide me to him.”

She is about to turn when I raise a finger to stop her. “We can’t do that.
Actually, our time-schedule just tightened because of your unexpected
ascension. We have to get you somewhere safe before the Council picks up
on you. I have no idea how they do it, but I would give us another hour at
most since you likely ascended by fighting that guy who attacked
Ascathon’s base.”

“How do you know that?”

I shrug. “I know a great many things, and if you play nice, you should be
pleased by the outcome. So, can I bring you to where I stashed away Karin
and your daughters? At least those who I reached in time?”
 Chapter 42

The Crystal City

Ascathon
The clerk returns, taking a look around the corner with a somewhat
anxious expression on his face. His agitated gaze sweeps over the waiting
area until his eyes land on me. He nods, apparently satisfied that I am still
at my place in the corner of the room. “It won’t take long now. We are
almost ready for you.”

When I don’t answer and just glare at him, he decides that being
somewhere else would be indefinitely better than to wait for me to blow.
Like a dog with its tail between its legs, he shuffles away to get out of my
vicinity, probably feeling that I would love nothing more than to tear him
limb from limb.

My gaze switches over to the clock on the wall, checking the time. If the
man sticks to his previous behaviour, he would return in ten to fifteen
minutes to make sure that I am still waiting for him like a good little pet.

Sadly for him, I have no longer the intention of playing a good little pet. I
am the only person left in the resting area for half an hour. The last person
who was processed was some gentle, old deity who preferred an elderly
appearance. For hours, she did nothing besides telling me that she almost
didn’t manage to make an appearance in time.

If there was any doubt about what was going on up until that point, then it
became quite obvious that the guy was stalling me, though I wonder who
offered him enough to do something so foolish. Ignoring the risk of
gaining the Council’s attention, I decide to check out what’s going on at
home – just to be sure.

A quick use of the pathways is enough to return me to my base, where I

reappear in the empty central corridor. If I am quick, I should be able to
check if everything is in order and be right back without anyone ever
knowing.

“Hello?”

There is no answer, but I smell the rancid stink of burned electronics when
I inhale. Sniffing, I follow the smell in the direction of Ashley’s
intelligence centre where I find the first two corpses, Lea and Fiora.
Someone turned the two succubi onto their backs and closed their eyes,
making it seem like they are just sleeping.

In a corner is a smashed workstation which is undoubtedly the source of

the smell that drew me here. Some shorted out circuit is still spewing
sparks, smouldering some plastic parts.

Kneeling down next to Lea, I check her body for any signs of a lingering
connection to her soul, hoping against hope, but her spirit has long since
departed. Clenching my jaw, I grind my teeth audibly and pull my eyes
forcefully away from the body, searching the rest of the room.

There is a third corpse, a shrivelled something that’s impossible to

recognize. Only the fine clothing indicates that it was either a very
wealthy person of this world or someone else altogether. He too shows no
signs of a lingering soul when I check. In fact, there seems to be no
spiritual energy at all inside the body. It's in a worse state than even a
mummy from some ancient tomb. Those, like any other bodies which died
of natural causes, have at least some lingering signature of their departed
soul.

That’s when I notice the holographic map in the middle of the room,
displaying an entirely different tactical situation than I remember it to be
when I left – all out war between Myrm’s faction and mine. Even more
startling, my side seems to be losing quite badly, which shouldn’t be
possible thanks to the mobile fortresses which I gifted to my people. The
Alliance has nothing like them… unless...

“They are playing foul!” I hiss, blasting the projector unintentionally with
a wave of force as I lose control over my power, destroying the machine.
There is only one explanation for all of this! Myrm’s people are actively
assisting their mortals. Wild rage flares up inside me at this blatant
breaking of the rules.

“No matter.” There is nothing I can do about it at the moment without

taking action myself. Where are Willow, Karin, Ashley, and the others?
They can’t be all dead. First of all, I have to make sure that they are safe.

My thoughts return to the shrivelled corpse and I slowly get an idea of

what must have happened. It’s not my first time seeing the remains of a
succubus taking a full meal. I doubt that other attackers would have stood
by and watched one of their friends getting sucked dry, so only one of
Myrm’s followers managed to enter the base and at least one of my people
must have survived.

Walking quickly, I hurry over to one of the workstations and activate it,
logging into the facility's security system. I check the current state of the
facility, but everything seems to be fine aside from a singular breach of the
teleportation barrier, which must have happened when the single intruder
gained entry.

Pressing my lips together, I pull a face in an attempt to puzzle out where

the others went. If they realized that Myrm is actively joining the war they
wouldn’t have stayed on the planet. It would have been much too
dangerous.

Following a hunch, I decide to check Ashley’s castle, taking a pathway

directly to its entrance. But one moment before I should materialize once
more in the other dimension, the instinct which comes naturally to all gods
takes over, averting my path and forcing me to appear several dozen
metres away from my intended position.
Turning, I get the answer for why my path was diverted. I would have
appeared inside a giant pile of debris. In front of me is the scene of the
castle which was turned into a smouldering ruin. Taking a tentative step
forward, I spread out my senses. Searching, I sent out my consciousness
along the pathways, spreading myself over the whole area.

It doesn’t take much to find Willow and Isabella with the scrying spell,
two bodies next to each other, placed directly on the road towards the
castle. Taking a pathway directly next to Willow, I kneel down and touch
her cold forehead. Again, someone draped them in a somewhat dignified
position, laying them down on their backs with their hands resting next to
their bodies. Just as if they were sleeping.

Just that they aren't.

Willow clearly suffered some kind of lethal trauma, blood covering her
chin and neck. Her hands are two bloody and maimed ruins. Isa's left side
is almost completely crushed as if someone stepped on her as if she was a
bug.

Again, their souls are gone, the bodies just empty shells, discarded for
their next reincarnation. With remorse, I realize that I am not even sure if
Isa has a next reincarnation. As a demi-god, her fate was still uncertain in
that regard.

Still, I can’t help but pull Willow up into a sitting position to hug her. I
called her a minion on numerous occasions. More often than not just in
order to tease her, but if nothing else, she was one of the few true friends I
had left. She stayed at my side over the eons, while others died,
disappeared, or turned away from me for one reason or the other.

Reaching out, I take the remaining hand of Isabella’s crushed body. She
looks like she ran face-first into a train. Someone destroyed the etheric
beauty of the one who was once my wife – as much as demons would
admit to such a relationship.

Putting Willow down gently, I step back, trying to steel my expression as

well as my resolve, ignoring the tears running down my face.
“Fuck! I told you to go somewhere safe, ever since they started this whole
World Enchantment business! I should have sent you and Karin away and
never allowed Ashley to join this stupid game.” I reach for my chest,
feeling something contract within me. This is my fault. I knew from the
beginning that something like this was likely to happen.

And them!

They truly didn’t care about any of the rules if they even attacked this
place. If Ashley had any sense, she took Karin and whoever she managed
to find and retreated somewhere deep into the Infernal Planes. There are
layers of reality out there which even the Council would hesitate to
venture into.

There would be no point if I went to search for them right now and it
would be too dangerous for them to return if they aren’t already lost to me.
Maybe forever.

Taking a step forward, I take a pathway back to my base, appearing right

inside my laboratory. Walking past the tank with my other body, I brush a
hand over the surface and venture straight to the new high-security test-
chamber which I set up for experiments with the Mana Crystals. I open the
heavy metal door by kicking it in, ignoring the alarms which I set off. The
whole system was never intended to repel a god anyway, but to keep nosy
allies away from my research.

There isn’t much I achieved so far in terms of shaping the mana crystal,
just some crude weapons. Shaping Mana Crystal to one's will is hard
enough, but growing the stuff quickly yields imperfect results. Shaping the
involved energies is an almost impossible task without losing cohesion of
the involved forces, affecting the unique properties of the material.

Nonetheless, I take the knife which was one of the results of my labour.
It’s half the length of my lower arm and slightly curved, with a grip whose
lower end doubles as a punching ring. The blade is thinner than one would
expect from a weapon like this, but Mana Crystal doesn't suffer from the
same limitations as metal. Where metal would bend like clay in the hands
of a god, Mana Crystal holds steady and is able to cut through any aura
with ease. That's why most gods don't use mortal weapons unless they are
heavily enchanted to withstand abuse.

If someone relies on using a weapon, they have to summon weapons by

shaping their own energies.

Still, the end result of my experiment looks very much like the unintended
offspring of an oversized bush-knife and a karambit.

The other weapon is a crude crystal spear, it’s shaft shaped like gnarled
wood, making it not very appealing. But the tip is a straight blade with the
size of a short sword. It was a first attempt at making something bigger
than a knife on the fly. The work isn't pretty. In fact, I was very much
disappointed with this one, but it should do the job.

Lastly, I grab a belt with several pouches, each filled with the remains of
discarded Mana Crystal. They are just discarded fragments, but even little
shards can cut when wielded properly.

That leaves me with one more stop. I just hope he is still there and wasn't
dusted too.

Twirling the knife between my fingers to get a feel for it, I head over to the
elevator which grants access to the facility's lower levels. The entire time,
it feels like my body is moving on auto-pilot. Punching in the code,
stepping inside, waiting for the elevator to arrive at Lucifer's feeding pen.

When the door opens, I just whistle into the darkness, waiting for Lucifer
to answer my call.

My familiar replies with a pitiful 'meow' stumbling out of the darkness in

its kitten-form. Only the little, bloody paws destroy the wrong sense of
safety and innocence Lucifer is trying to create. He settles down inside the
elevator, cleaning his fur.

The action makes me want to yell at him, questioning his priorities. How
could he play around while important people died! But I know that it
wouldn't be fair. Lucifer is smart, but he isn't a sapient being. The one who
designed him never intended for him to be more than a familiar and I
never managed to truly correct that. It would have required meddling with
his whole being, making it easier to create a completely new familiar. I
couldn’t do that, especially since he is a memento of my teacher.

I settle down and close the door to get us to the last stop, my book – or
should I call it a diary of myself?

Collecting the artefact from its pedestal proves to be no issue and I return
back to the upper levels, my diary thrumming with chaotic power while
hanging from a fitting pouch on my belt.

There is no particular reason to change my outfit since I had no time to

incorporate the crystal-tech into any armour. The black leathers I always
preferred will be enough.

As soon as I leave the elevator, I return with Lucifer to the waiting area in
the Crystal City's administration department.

Sitting down, I stare at the wall, trying my best to think of nothing, else I
might snap. And I don't want to snap. Not before it's time. When it doesn’t
work, I do my best to use the time in order to think of my possible next
steps, playing through different scenarios in my mind.

I am still in a trance when the corrupt clerk reappears, nodding at me from

the entrance. He furrows his forehead as he takes in my appearance. “You
don't look so good. Have you been crying?”

When I don't answer, he hesitates, afraid to pursue the matter with

someone of my reputation. “Don't worry. Ahem, I am sure we will be done
any moment now. I know that waiting for hours for some bureaucracy
must be disturbing.” He turns, intending to go back to his previous
business.

Taking a pathway, I appear right behind him, startling him when he turns
fully and bumps into me. Stumbling backwards, he retreats into the
waiting room. His eyes widen when he sees the blade in my left hand and
he instinctively releases his aura, pushing me slightly away. It's a good
reaction, but the wrong one in this case.

Barely half a second after his aura sprung into existence, my knife cleaves
through it as if it wasn't there in the first place. The tip of the curved blade
bites into the side of the man's belly, hooking into it. My hand doesn't stop
though, and I cut all the way to the other side. Angling the blade, I pull it
back – down to the centre of his groin, then up, all the way to his chest,
carving an upside down, inverted '4' into him.

With a manic expression, he looks down at himself as his aura sputters out
of existence, clearly unwilling or unable to cope with the situation. With
his muscles cut, his belly is unable to hold onto its contents and guts spill
out of him and onto the floor, sullying my shoes.

Pulling the knife out of his chest, I take a step back to avoid the mess I
made.

As soon as the knife is out, the fumbling starts. The clerk falls to his
knees, trying to stuff his innards back inside. I've watched scenes like that
often enough to know that it could take quite some time to realize that,
while not immediately deadly, the blow was fatal.

He is still busy with himself, his face now distorted in a silent scream,
when I crouch down in front of him, my head tilted as I study him. “And
do you know the best of it?” I whisper. “Healing makes it only worse
because that blade didn't just cut your mortal flesh. I tried cutting myself
with it once. The damned knick was worse than a paper cut and took weeks
to heal. Healing just caused it to bleed more. I've yet to find out the actual
reason, but it doesn't matter at the moment. Verifying its ability to cut
through an aura was more than enough. I guess I should thank you for the
help.”

Croaking, he draws in a long, exaggerated breath, presumably to call for

help.

Leaping forward, I grab him by the hair of his head and swing the knife
like an ax, cleaving through his neck, separating the head from his body.
Turning around a little too enthusiastically, I splatter blood onto the wall
as I make a 180 and head back to the little table in the waiting room in five
long steps.

Working with manic speed, I tilt the head upside down and dip my finger
into the neck-wound which is oozing blood. Then I draw the ritualistic
circle and symbols of a most basic revival spell – with a few little
alterations for which my teacher would have flayed the skin off my back.

Like, tethering the soul to this incomplete piece of flesh tightly enough to
make it impossible to depart without incinerating the whole thing. And
giving it the whole range of feelings.

When I am done, I plant the head in the centre of the circle and infuse the
ritual with power, granting it just enough mana animate the head without
regrowing anything.

Sometime during the procedure, the head stopped moving. But now,
infused with green, necromantic energies provided by the ritual, it blinks.
Then the mouth starts moving again, opening and closing in silent,
unheard screams.

It's quite hard to scream properly if you have no lungs to push out air and
your vocal cords are gone.

“Have you ever wondered how it's like to have your eyes poked out?”
Raising my knife, I slowly push the tip into his left eye-socket, causing the
remaining eye to go manic.

Having my rage satisfied at least a little, I retrieve the knife and pat the
head which is working out its jaw. “Don't worry. It's evening and you are
the only person I've seen for some time in the building. But! Good news!
At the very least, I am very sure that someone will find you in the
morning! You just have to endure until then without going mad from the
pain. That’s the worst for an immortal, am I right? Being raving mad? But
I am sure someone important like you will manage without blinking an
eyelid. Just a few hours!”
His remaining eye searches around the room, rolling upwards in its socket,
then down again.

Sniffing, I notice the odour which is spreading through the room and pull a
face. The beheaded body must have lost control over its bowels. “Gods,
what did you eat? It smells like you were rotting from the inside!”

Of course, the head is no longer capable of answering that question.

“I better go. Please give the cleaning staff my apologies, but there are
people to kill, corpses to revive, a world to destroy, you know, evil stuff.” I
giggle and ruffle the man's hair.

Then I get up and take a pathway back to the world, feeling already a little
better. Who knows? When I am done, these tears might stop flowing.
 Chapter 43

The World
Ascathon
I appear in the imperial throne room with Lucifer clinging to my shoulder.
My familiar meows, annoyed at being carried around like one of my
weapons.

Luxley the XII is sitting on his throne, looking relieved upon seeing me.
Like his long line of predecessors, he is my puppet, representing my
interests and wishes in front of the mortals. Thanks to Ashley’s efforts
there is always an inheritor ready to replace the old Luxley. This latest
version shows at least some resemblance to the original, sharing the same
aristocratic nose, but the succubi made a point of avoiding inbreeding,
looking for other traits than appearance, like a tendency for religious
fervour and devotion, combined with just enough smarts to think for
himself.

“Bless you! I thought you abandoned us in this dire hour!” Getting up

from his throne, Luxley number twelve drops to his knees in front of me,
showing the proper respect for his deity.

“Behold!” One of the Priests of Chaos at Luxley’s side calls out in an awed
tone, himself a distant descendant of the first original Knight of Chaos
who recruited himself into my service. “Our god is speaking to us!”

The people present hurry to get to their knees, planting their foreheads on
the floor without the need to release my aura.
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes at the forced theatrics, I quickly
search the room, hoping and dreading to find one of the succubi here. I
would have to get them somewhere safe.

But there is nobody here, making me probably the only immortal to guide
these mortal fools since Myrm’s people started their attack.

I raise my finger and point at Luxley. “Behold my words, mortals. The

gods of the heretics decided to turn this war into a conflict beyond mortal
means. The Heavens shall collide and the Earth will shatter. Fight! Fight
the last battle and hold nothing back and I shall fight with you – until we
achieve enlightenment!”

Sending out a few sparks for good measure, I take a pathway and appear
high above one of the conflict zones which I noticed earlier in our
headquarters. Hoping that my little show achieved its desired effect I
slowly descend to make out some details.

But I don’t care at all what the mortals are up to. My only desire is to find
Myrm’s people and end this, hopefully killing a bunch of them before
Myrm himself decides to show up. Honestly, I don’t expect much from the
mortals, but maybe Myrm’s followers get distracted when my people start
throwing nukes left and right. That’s why I told them that this is the last
battle.

To set up the stage for the next act, I have to get rid of most of those pesky
godly auras which are connected to the World Enchantment. Over a dozen
deities are simply too much to dispel on my own and be sure that the
desired result is achieved. If just a little part of the World Enchantment
survives attached to the aura of some godling everything might be for
naught.

Stretching out my senses, I unleash my aura, not caring about breaking

those close to me wherever I go next. “Lucifer!”

Calling on our connection, I channel a part of my power into my familiar,

allowing Lucifer to grow to the size of a horse. His stubby limbs elongate
and the fur around his neck sprouts until he looks more like a lion.
Finalizing the transformation, his claws and canines grow, giving him the
features of a sabretooth with oversized claws. The changes turn him into a
truly frightening creature, able to deal with a lesser deity on his own,
though not much more than that.

“Let’s find you some food.”

I take us through the pathways, directly towards the closest detectable

aura. In a place like the Crystal City with all its different energy sources it
would be nigh impossible to pinpoint the location of a released aura
exactly, but in this world, even with all the gods residing on it, there isn’t
nearly as much background noise.

Appearing in the sky above some battlefield right next to a woman who is
surveying the fighting mortals below, I twirl my knife and bring it down
on her in an overhead strike. Not caring for her identity, I press against her
aura and succeed in stabbing the weapon into her chest.

Her eyes widen in surprise and she looks down, seemingly not believing
that I cut through her aura just like that.

Pulling out, I sheathe the blade inside her flesh three more times before
the light leaves her eyes and she starts falling, her aura fading with her
descent. Lucifer dives after her, yowling in delight at the seemingly
fleeing prey.

“This is almost too easy.”

Leaving the finishing-bite to Lucifer, I inspect the knife which already

felled two gods in quick succession, but there is no damage to the thin
blade. It still looks pristine in its blue, glass-like appearance, only slightly
discoloured by a red tinge, caused by the blood on it.

The feeling of two more auras appearing in close proximity draws my

attention, and I turn to face the newcomers, a god and a goddess. I
recognize them as Lemion, God of Health, and Hara, Goddess of Time,
two of Myrm’s close followers and strong deities in their own right.
The woman reaches up and brushes her brown hair away from her ear,
pushing down on an elongated earlobe with an earring made out of gold.
Glaring at me with single-minded conviction distorting her aristocratic
features, she calls for more assistance, “He is here. Get everyone to this
location asap.”

“You really think you can take me!?” I point the bloody knife
threateningly at them and pluck one of the pouches from my belt.
Scattering the contents into the wind, I pick up the crystal shards with
force magic, circulating them around me in a protective sphere. “Bring it
on! At the end of the day, we shall see who is still standing and who shall
fall.”

Pointing, I unleash pure force magic at them, but they dodge through the
pathways. Unhindered, my spell travels onwards. Since it was angled
slightly downwards, it carves a canyon up to the horizon into the world.
Moments later, the caused damage claims its tribute and the ground
rumbles in a cataclysmic earthquake.

“What do you think you are doing!?” Lemion calls out, his blonde hair
being messed up from the resulting wind. “Do you want to tear the planet
asunder?” His angelic face looks horrified, almost as if he never truly
realized what would inevitably happen if I were to fight other gods on this
planet.

“That’s something you should have thought about before you started this!”
Changing my aim, I chuckle. “Do you really think that I would have let
you get away with attacking my people? Did you think I would just watch?
If this planet still exists when we are done, you can call yourselves lucky.”

I feel the arrival of more auras all around us and stretch out my hands,
welcoming the guests of this party. “Today, it’s Chaos against Order.”

“You are outnumbered!” Hara gestures at her allies. “Give up! There is no
hope for you.”

They somehow managed to assemble eighteen people, way more than I

assumed they could sway from the pantheon. Furrowing my forehead, I
suddenly realize that some of the deities aren’t even a part of our
pantheon. They must have hired outside help… why didn’t I anticipate
that?

If I can do it with the succubi, then why shouldn’t they?

“You think that numbers matter against me?” I smile. “Do you expect me
to just roll over? To despair, confronted with impossible odds? Why
shouldn’t I fight with everything I have?”

“If you surrender quietly, we will capture your soul and store it somewhere
safe until Tjenemit decides to give up on this stupid project,” Hara
suggests. “I have divined this battle countless times, and there is no
possibility that you will walk away alive on this day.”

“Today, you will learn a lesson.” I start laughing. She divined this battle?
She believes that they can strike me down because she saw some
probabilities? “You are amusing.”

“Shoac!” I brush my free hand over the book at my side. “Open the Gate to
the Mind!”

Arcane power surges forth, flowing from the book into me, and destroying
the seal I put onto myself in order to avoid utter madness. Feeling my aura
grow in intensity, I revel in the power, harnessed directly from a
dimension of pure Chaos.

“Get him!” Hara points at me. “Mird, dodge!”

Feeling free for the first time since I discovered the plane of Chaos during
one of my experiments, I unleash one of the shards at the closest god, but
he moves to the side, a moment before the piece of Mana Crystal can
pierce his forehead.

Surprised at the unexpected skilfulness of my opponents, I dodge and flow,

avoiding the auras of eighteen gods pressing in on me in an attempt to pin
me down, to cage me in a barrier.
Sliding sideways, I reach one of the lesser deities and kick out, pushing
her back. The resulting shock wave flattens the earth below and a flash of
pure white plasma arcs between our auras as we instinctively unleash our
energy at each other.

“Drey, left knee! Now!”

Something slams into my shield just at the right moment to break through.
Hissing, I feel the pure-white energy of a summoned arrow punching
through my left leg, right above the knee. Only through the power of my
will, I am able to suppress the wish to start a mindless temper-tantrum,
giving in to the energies I harnessed through the book. It would be too
easy to just follow my nature. I wouldn’t be able to savour the battle and
its aftermath.

Instead, I endure and let instinct take over as I dodge the attacks of
multiple opponents, trying to be as aware as possible of my surroundings.
As our auras clash, the world around us comes apart, turning into a field of
burned earth and ionized air.

Lashing out at an opportune moment, I cut off the arm of a deity who
came too close. At the same time, I unleash some of the shards at my
opponents to keep them busy. Judging by their frightened expressions, it
must have been a long time since they found themselves in a situation
where they had to dodge multiple projectiles in a life and death situation.

All the while, Hara calls out orders, seemingly knowing beforehand
whether an attack of mine would result in a fatal injury, or in a minor cut.

Seeing myself falling behind, I draw my blade across two more of the
pouches on my belt, allowing the contents to pour free. Grabbing them too,
I up the game, forcing Hara to make priorities in calling out commands.

Following my mental command, Lucifer rejoins the game, using his ghost-
like nature to distract and attack when the opportunity arises, but he is just
one combatant. Hara quickly reacts with orders of her own, sending two of
her companions to deal with my familiar, turning him into not much more
than a distraction for two or three deities at most.
Again, I am struck from behind and something sinks into my shoulder. A
quick glance at my back reveals another arrow of light.

Laughing like a madman, I swing my blade through the arrow in my leg,

then behind my back, cutting through the spell matrix which holds he
summoned object in reality. The arrows disperse into fragments of energy,
and I cast a healing spell to patch myself up.

I either have to find a way to deal with the arrow shooter, who up until
now managed to stay hidden within the crowd of attackers – at least I
couldn’t identify the person who is able to create these attacks – or I have
to deal with Hara who is calling out the shots.

My eyes narrow when I realize why she is calling the shots. It’s so that the
bowman can attack without fearing my retaliation. So far, he was the only
one who managed to punch through my aura.

Analysing the battle gives me an idea of what to do, even if I didn’t want
to play this card so early in the game. The time it took me to think up a
plan also proves enough of a distraction for someone to launch a big spell
at me.

Feeling myself turning weightless, the world starts spinning as I am

picked up by an invisible force and flung away with incredible speed,
impacting some forest on the far horizon; and then there is earth and dust
in my face and everywhere.

Laughing, I take a pathway, appearing right above the impact zone, feeling
Lucifer catch up to me through the spirit plane. When I was picked up by
the force spell, I lost control of my little projectiles, so I cut open two
more pouches as the mob of angry deities appears all around me, some of
them looking worse for wear, but overall they look to be in a much better
state than I do.

Running a hand over the pouch with my diary, I recite an old mantra,
hoping that it would keep the madness at bay.

“The sentient beings are innumerable, We vow to liberate them.”

Dodging, another big force-attack, I catch where it was coming from.
Three lesser gods in the distance are working together on a spell matrix in
an attempt to form an artillery spell that’s capable of doing damage. I still
have a card up my sleeve, but without knowing Hara’s exact capabilities it
would be a waste to use it if she knows beforehand and just dodges.

Barrelling through between two deities who are hacking away at my aura, I
launch one of the precious Mana Crystal shards at Hara and – at the same
time – give Lucifer the command to attack the three lesser gods.

Hara dodges the shard effortlessly, teleporting a few metres to the right,
but Lucifer turns into his ghostly form and speeds effortlessly past his
opponents and into the three gods, dispersing them like frightened
chickens.

“The illusions are inexhaustible, We vow to transcend them.”

I grin, assured that there is a play I can make, even as Hara gives another
command.

Knowing what’s to come, I dodge, and the arrow of light just scratches my
shoulder. The deity who is shooting the arrow, Drey, isn’t perfect. But
another god materializes above me, battering a baton into my shield and
sending me down to the earth like a shooting star.

“Knowledge is immeasurable, We vow to master all of it.”

I cough and recite my mantra as I get back to my feet even as the dust is
settling around me. Then I rise up into the air, not wanting them to wait.

I wonder if Willow managed to discover her nature before she died, and
what it was… Did she follow my advice and found her own mantra of
power? After all, a god is only as strong as he or she believes himself to
be.

Hara appears above me, Lemion at her side, probably to make sure that
their battle coordinator is always in a top-state. “Are you ready to give up?
We don’t want to destroy this world, but we will do it if you force us.”
I grin, raising my dagger in defiance.

“The path of transcendence is exceedingly exalted, We vow to realize it.”

Lemion shakes his head. “He must be insane. He hasn’t taken down a
single one of us, but he is still fighting on as if there was a chance at
victory.”

“There is victory. It’s already a foregone conclusion,” I inform them and

draw on more power, circulating the shards even faster, I cut my last two
bags with shards, topping up on the amount of Mana Crystals I can use for
my defence.

Hara raises her eyebrows, looking at me with extreme concentration as her

irises glow with a yellow light. “Drey, get him! He is planning something.
Pleia, create a smokescreen.”

Continuing their perfect teamwork, Pleia, some goddess of nature

summons a thick mist, surrounding us. A moment later, one of the strange
arrows shoots forth from that mist, the originator unseen. But the attack is
blocked by the spinning cocoon of crystal shards all around me. The arrow
is caught and shredded to pieces before it can reach me.

Unfortunately, Hara realizes that she can make a play of her own.
“Everyone with lesser status and Drey, switch to his familiar. He can’t
attack while he is pouring all his power into his defence!”

I grit my teeth, but do nothing as they converge on Lucifer who was caught
outside my shield. We need more time, so I have to sacrifice him in order
to win. Forgive me and buy some time...

“Body, mind and soul in perfect unity, I send out my heart with the sound
of the bell.”

I do nothing as they catch Lucifer inside a spectral cage, causing him to

rage against the confines of his prison.
“May all people awaken from their carelessness and overcome all their
fears and sufferings.”

I do nothing as they use their numbers to overpower what energy I gave to

my familiar, dispelling his spell matrix.

“May the world reach peace with the silence of thought.”

He roars, dispersing into countless particles of light – one of them, a blue

one, returning to me. It passes without problems through my defences and
enters my chest, giving back what I had to give in order to share power
with a familiar that was never meant for a god.

“This wonderful sound brings me back to my true self.”

I chant my mantra, drawing on even more power and with it everyone’s

attention. Smiling, I offer Hara a salute. “We’ve never fought a group of
deities who worked together so well. In fact, you almost defeated us,
thanks to that teamwork. It’s a shame that we have to strike you down like
the worms you are.”

Hara looks concerned, but her concentration is still on me. “That’s it. You
must have gone down the deep end for sure, or why are you talking in
plural?” She scans her surroundings but is unable to predict the actions of
anyone but me.

Smiling sweetly, I lower my dagger. “You may be a deity of Time, and

have the ability to predict the future to some extent. But do you really
believe that anyone can predict Chaos?” I shake my head, closing my eyes.
“If there was a way to predict Chaos, it wouldn’t be chaos.”

Looking angry, Hara points a finger at me. “Build a Containment Barrier

around him. If he doesn’t want to give up his defences, then we just have
to wait him out. Even if he has the power, there is no way for him to
maintain that level of concentration forever.”

I smile as they form up all around me, caging me in, summoning a barrier
which should be impossible to break from within. But with maintaining
the barrier, they also bind their numbers to this task. It's barrier against
barrier.

Hara lets out a triumphant sigh when the barrier snaps into place, sealing
me for good. “We just have to wait for him to drop from mental
exhaustion, and then we can send him back to Hell!”
 Chapter 44

The World
Nova
“...send him back to Hell!”

Then Hara twitches and pained disbelief enters her expression. She arches
her back strangely, still looking down at me, nicely caged inside their
barrier, unable to do anything but watch as layer upon layer of magical
defences are piled on top of each other. Having assured herself that I
couldn’t possibly be the source of the underhanded attack, her eyes wander
down to her chest.

A crystal blade, shaped like a short sword, slowly blooms from between
her modest breasts, smoothly sliding through flesh and bone. As the blade
is seemingly birthed into the world, the cloth of her pristine, white robe
turns a dark red with blood, blooming like a terrible flower.

Bending forward, I push the blade of my spear further in and lick over
Hara’s pristine neck, tasting her fear.

“Hell is already full of those who suffer, so I am afraid that I have to stay
here with you for the time being.”

“Hara!”

Lemion notices me first, and I quickly float backwards before a ray of

light can hit me. In the same action, I retrieve the spear and give it a
triumphant twirl, creating an arc of blood. The God of Health catches his
dying comrade, casting a powerful healing spell, but there is nothing he
can do.

For a moment, the gazes of seventeen horrified gods are locked on me,
wandering over my golden regalia, fitting for Nova, the Necromantic
Empress. Smiling, I raise my spear and lick the blood off the blade,
smacking my lips as if I found the metallic taste delicious. “It tastes like
freshly pierced heart.”

It took me a while to set up a situation in which I could be reasonably

certain to get to Hara, which was an impossibility as long as she was
surrounded by Lemion and at least four other of her comrades at all times.
There would have always been someone ready to interfere.

But when they decided to lock me inside a barrier, they bound all their
numbers to cage me in, leaving only Lemion at Hara’s side. With Hara
unprotected, it created an acceptable opportunity for a surprise attack.

Screaming, Lemion charges at me, summoning some kind of gauntlets to

his hands.

Spinning around myself, I allow our auras to collide, ignoring the resulting
arcs of plasma between us. Using my spear for stabbing, I lash out three
times in quick succession, putting enough force into the mere movement
to evaporate a mountain in the distance.

Then I am past the deity who allowed himself to lose control of his
emotions, only slightly knocked off my course. The opportunity proves to
be perfect, so I rush forward, slicing straight through the back of the
closest opponent who is supporting the barrier. He parts into two halves,
cleanly separated.

Lemion’s healing doesn’t matter in this fight, as long as I continue dealing

killing blows. Being the only one with access to Crystal Weapons should
account for all the advantage I need.

Having dealt with the first supporter of the barrier, I continue onwards and
impale another god. My spear sinks into the side of his chest and I twist,
ripping it out through the front in a spray of blood and bone.

With his chest opened and bare to the world, he falls, tumbling to the
ground.

The rest of them gets the hint. With at least one of my bodies free to move
as I please, they can’t keep up an effective barrier. Caging in my other half
is no longer a feasible plan, so they disperse in an attempt to rally their
resistance.

Four of them decide on a frontal assault and our auras collide after I
tanked a few half-hearted spells. Laughing, I reply in kind, throwing
energy with enough power to obliterate mountains. Anything less wouldn’t
even scratch a deity of mediocre power.

One of the attacks caught an unlucky angle, and somewhere in the distance
the planet’s horizon visibly deforms, as a blast of pure force rips open the
planet’s crust.

Realizing that this battle can’t end with anything else but an extinction
level event, they act. Some are trying to contain the forces called forth by
the combatants, but bereft of their commander, their ranks dissolve into
chaos as some abandon their teamwork in favour of fighting Nova. They
attack with the desperation of those who are sensing inevitable doom, no
longer holding back anything.

Sensing my chance, I push my defensive sphere outwards with my other

body, letting out a scream as I try to put as much energy as possible into
the expanding cloud of Crystal shards, turning them into shrapnel shooting
outwards with Ascathon as the centre. Sometimes, it’s the most basic of
ideas that’s the most effective.

Raising my spear in a defensive stance, I take a pathway away from the

centre of the deadly cloud of projectiles to protect myself from any serious
injuries. With most of their numbers so close to the barrier, there is no real
reason to aim.
Caught off guard, most of my opponents get injured or maimed at the very
least, if not outright incapacitated. There are screams of pain and horror as
flesh is pierced, bone shredded, and limbs torn off. Sadly, nobody is killed
outright, but two gods fall from the sky, unable to continue the fight.
Scarcely anyone gets away without some kind of injury and I count only
three deities who were quick enough to evade through the pathways.

With a last flicker, the pierced remains of the barrier collapse and I am
able to participate in the battle with both my bodies.

I/We join each other, turning back to back with our other self, then the
enemies attack in a wild frenzy. Without their leadership, injured and
disorganized, they rely purely on their numbers. We tear through the
survivors in a deadly and beautiful dance as their ranks dissolve into
chaos. Faced with our perfect unity, they turn into nothing more than
sheep, ripe to be hunted down.

They are just dogs who thought were hunting a cat but found themselves
facing a tiger.

Where Nova attacks, Ascathon defends. Where Ascathon casts, Nova

blocks. Joined in a single aura, the two bodies don’t repel each other,
while our attackers are so numerous that they actually hinder each other.

A crystal shard blows through the forehead of a deity, taking off a sizeable
part of the back of her head and emptying her brain. The blunt end of my
spear caves in a chest, while my dagger cuts through the swinging sword
in his hand.

Auras grate against each other, creating an oversized lightning sphere in

the sky above the world with us at its centre, its discharges singeing the
continent. Each blow is strong enough to evaporate a city. Our enemies
orbit around us like planets around their sun, certain that retreat wouldn’t
be an option.

They bet everything on this attack in the hope that confronting Tjenemit
with a fait accompli would give them a reasonable chance at survival. But
by now the damage to the world is already far too great to be brushed off
as a minor mishap.

Their only choice is to fight and to fall, one by one they fall…

The VOID
Seria
I stopped chewing my Nachos by the time as the battle started devolving
from a genuine fight to a seemingly one-sided Ascathon-bashing,
wondering how much longer Myrm’s distraction would hold. But then I
reasoned that if the Alliance of Light had found a way to delay Ascathon
long enough, it would have been reasonably easy to delay their own leader.

Myrm is smart, reasonably ruthless and a person of authority among her

followers. But she has a dangerous personality flaw. Once she decided that
a person is on her side, she trusts them implicitly to the point at which it
would be easy for a traitor to stick a knife into her back.

Then the tide changes for the worse and they actually manage to seal
Ascathon inside a barrier. I slowly get really worried that I would have to
change my plans, but decide to wait a little longer. Ascathon would never
enter such a battle with some kind of ace up his sleeve. And that means
more than Crystal Weapons.

Originally, I deemed the chance of Ascathon being defeated by a bunch of

lesser deities and a few random mid- to god-tier immortals nearly
impossible, but Hara and her fellowship proved that even small fry can
accomplish something if there are just enough of them.

Then Ascathon suddenly gets assistance in the form of Nova and was now
obviously using two bodies, both sharing one mind at the same time.
I spew wetly salivated Nachos all over the extra large viewing screen of
my bungalow. Anticipating a major fight, I had moved my floating island
to a secret location inside a Void-Zone, incidentally making sure that none
of my guests would be able to escape.

The yellowish remains of chewed Nachos on the screen cause the rest of
the audience to look at me with disgust, but I pay Karin and Ashley no
heed. This is my place after all. If I want to mess everything up, I do so.

Altogether, I had managed to gather twenty-eight of Ashley's daughters

before something fatal could happen to them, causing my little island
resort to be a little crowded at the moment. The overall mood on the island
could be called touchy at best, not only because I had liberally abducted
anyone who I managed to get my hands on, but also because there were
currently no men available to satisfy the succubi's desires. I wrinkle my
nose, trying my best to ignore the smell of about two dozen needy demons.

The only point in my favour was that I also had managed to 'save' the souls
of anyone who died.

“Holy shit in a bucket,” I mumble. “I didn't know he could do that!”

Looking sideways, I glance at Ashley who wears a rather annoyed
expression while sitting on the furthest corner of the couch, watching the
live-feed with me while staying as far away as possible. I admit that I kind
of deserve that after putting her under house arrest.

Normally, I would never forcefully recruit somebody, but this situation is a

little different. At least I want to think so. In case Ascathon ever
remembers them in the future, I am sure that he would like to know where
they are.

Ashley shrugs. “He is one of the best soul and mind mages I've ever met.
It's not surprising that he would be able to control both of his bodies.” A
smile steals itself onto her lips as she watches the fight. “It begs the
question whether he realizes the true potential of being in control of a
male and a female body at the same time. It opens the opportunity to
explore sexual paths that are closed even to me.”
For a moment, my brain refuses to process her words, coming up only with
static noise. Then I try again and it finally clicks. “No! He wouldn't do
that!” Or would he, he would never!? Ew...

Sensing that she hit a nerve, Ashley continues, “You know, he is clearly
not unused to either gender. I heard that it happens to immortals every
once in a while, genetic lottery and all that. It would be no different from
jerking off – only that the available equipment is so much better, so I see
no reason why-”

“Not listening!” I cut her off, shaking my head. She is trying to mess with
my mind because I showed her that she is no opponent for me in a straight
up fight.

Karin's expression turns full of bloodlust and she points at the screen.
“Look! Those motherfuckers are finally getting what they had coming to
them. Ascathon and Nova are like one of those insect lanterns, with their
enemies being inevitably fried once they get too close.”

I return my attention to the battle and have to admit that the analogy is
correct. Ascathon is certainly showing why no sane deity would mess with
a full-fledged god. With this show of power, it feels like he would even be
able to stand up to Tjenemit.

A fleeting hope, but no more.

There is more to the situation than just Tjenemit. Even if we would be able
to smite him, it would just mean to bring the rest of the Council down on
our heads, and every one of them is at least as powerful as Ascathon or I
am. That doesn't even include the hundreds, maybe thousands of lackeys
they could throw at us at a moment's notice. Not to mention our chances
once the Council actually decides to raise an army.

I seriously consider the idea of abducting Ascathon and Myrm and to tell
them about the whole situation.

But no. Even if there was no argument at all, our victory would be far from
guaranteed at this point. At the moment, we have no supporters. We would
be buried beneath the Council's minions until we dropped from sheer
exhaustion. Not to mention that Myrm is extremely unreliable in her
current state. It would be just as likely that she would turn against us, even
knowing the full extent of the truth.

No. We have to go with my plan, which ensures the Council's defeat.

Sometimes you simply have to play the long game, even if it's painful and
tedious.

I get to my feet. “I have to go now. It's likely that Myrm will find out any
minute now, and I have to be with Tjenemit when things go up shit creek.”

“You mean that things could get worse than they already are?” Karin
glares at me, not even attempting to hide her hostility towards me. I can't
blame her. My only excuse is that she wouldn't be able to help anyway. At
most, she and even Ashley would stand in the way.

“Yes!” I reply, steeling my voice. “Tjenemit could decide that Ascathon

and Myrm are too dangerous when he sees them fight, or takes account of
the aftermath. I have to be there when he makes his decision and whisper
the right suggestions into his ear.”

Taking a pathway, I head for the administrative section of the Crystal City,
hoping that my timing would be just right.

The World
Nova
A body is torn apart in a shower of blood. Another pierced by a spell.
One's power fades, unable to keep up with the energy discharges between
our auras. He simply disintegrates when I discharge another arc of plasma,
lancing through him.
At the edge of my consciousness, I realize that all of this is happening, but
I don't care. The diary at my side is humming with power and it makes me
feel just too good. Like in a trance, I keep on fighting, reacting to anything
they throw at me. One part defending, the other attacking in perfect
harmony.

Then the last opponent falls, down into a scorched landscape no mortal
could live in, the earth itself turned to magma, leaving no signs of a
previous battlefield or even sentient life. There is nothing in my mind and
I just float there, back to back with myself.

Three people arrive, the woman among them feels like the order to my
chaos. There is also a large man and a small one. Their mouths move,
talking feverishly to the woman, apparently trying to hold her back. While
the small man positions himself between me and the woman, the large one
approaches me, talking.

But there is a haze in my mind which makes it hard to understand them or

even to think. Are they enemies or allies?

The Chaos tells me that it doesn't matter, even if they aren't hostile. My
overall directive hasn't changed, which means cleansing this world of the
world enchantment. Those three are just another hurdle. Smiling, I follow
an internal whim and strike down the larger one with a swipe of my blade.

The Crystal City

Seria
“Enter!”

Following the command, I step through the entrance and into Tjenemit's
office. He is sitting behind his desk, clad in a pristine, white robe, clearly
occupied with administrative duties.
“Ah, Seria. Why are you here? You normally don't show yourself unless
you are called.” He furrows his forehead, looking up to me as I approach
his overly large office desk. My gaze is fixed on the window-front behind
him. It grants an enviable lookout over the Crystal City, making me wish I
had an office like that.

His demeanour quickly turns impatient when I don't answer him right
away.

“You better spew out what concerns you. A pretty bizarre murder case
landed on my table this morning, and I would prefer for it to be solved
sooner rather than later.”

A murder case he is taking care of himself? It must be pretty serious if he

decides that a mere minion like myself wouldn't do the job.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Someone decided to disembowel one of our paper pushers on the lower

floors, then cast a pretty nasty necromantic rite to revive just his head.
Normally I would say, ‘Fuck it!’, but the whole affair happened right here
in our administrative headquarters. Such a thing shouldn’t go unpunished,
or it would give the common folk the idea that we aren’t as untouchable as
they think we are. The poor sod who got beheaded had to wait on a table
for the entire night, feeling everything that was done to him without the
ability to lose consciousness. The mind-mages had to wipe his memories
completely because, by the time he was found, he had already gone over
the edge of insanity. They will release his soul afterwards, allowing him to
walk the path of transcendence anew.”

He points his pen at me. “Normally, I would point the accusing finger right
at Ascathon. There is no doubt that he is the kind of person who would do
shit like that. In fact, that’s exactly the kind of mission I would give him.
He is always good at making a point of an execution. Necromancy,
combined with the ability to kill a deity within the Crystal City without
anyone ever noticing that an aura was released, that’s also in his skill-set.
I've looked away more than once when he did it. One or two people per
decade are a small price to pay for someone with his abilities. But
Ascathon isn't that stupid. He is reasonably skilled at cleaning up his
messes, so there is no way it’s him.”

I wince.

Tjenemit drops his pen and his expression turns flat. “Why does your
expression tell me that you know the culprit?”
 Chapter 45

The Crystal City

Seria
“I told you that it would happen sooner or later,” I blurt out, proceeding
with the plan which I originally proposed to Nazareth and Marigold when
they approached me. Not only does it paint us as innocent, but it also
explains why we didn’t act sooner. After all, how were we, the neutral
faction, supposed to know that things would blow up like that? In truth, we
knew all along, but there is no reason to let Tjenemit in on that little
detail.

Tjenemit pulls down the corners of his mouth, obviously displeased with
my catty opening. “What exactly are you talking about?”

“You remember when I warned you that the situation between Ascathon
and Myrm would blow up if you don’t step in? Well, it happened, just as I
prophesied. Some lackeys from Myrm's faction thought it a good idea to
attack some of Ascathon's minions – in a clear violation of your rules I
might add.

“He lost his shit. I assume that if you investigate your murder victim, you
will find connections to people who are also involved in your little World
Enchantment experiment. To be more exact, people who are in close
relationship to Myrm.”

It doesn’t make sense to hold back that tidbit of information. Tjenemit

will find out sooner or later once the investigation gets rolling.
He opens his mouth to ask a question, then reconsiders and closes it.
Frowning, he opens it, then closes it, clearly trying to catch up with the
situation.

To be fair, I left out quite a few important details. Things which are
important to understanding the situation, but I hope that I'll be able to spin
things to my advantage if I release the appropriate information in the right
moment. It would be quite bad if Tjenemit found out that I knew
beforehand that this would happen.

That I, in fact, even helped things along.

“What exactly do you mean by, 'lost his shit'? Did he kill a few people?”
he asks, deciding that dealing with the present situation is more important
than to understand how it came to be, just as I hoped he would.

“Ah, aside from a few neutral deities who decided to hide, Myrm's and
Ascathon's people are currently fighting on the world,” I inform him,
speaking slowly to give him time to digest the information. “I am afraid
that the experiment lost quite a few 'test subjects'... including the
containment chamber.”

Tjenemit's eyes widen when he realizes that by ‘containment chamber’, I

meant the planet as a whole.

Spinning his office chair around, he gestures towards the large window
front. The glass turns black, darkening the room. Then it lights up again as
a scene of a satellite view of the world's main-continent appears.

Whistling, I take account of the situation. Ah, and I need a window like
that. Where can I get those?

One of the more notable mountain ranges is completely gone, replaced by

a crater which is visible from orbit. The resulting cloud of ash and dust is
covering a fourth of the continent.

The planet as a whole looks worse for wear, with large parts of the main-
continent turned to fields of scorched earth. Even now, there is a giant
Tsunami rolling outwards, originating from somewhere far out in the
southern sea. The inevitable result will be the eradication of the
surrounding archipelagos and larger islands, including the continent’s
southern shoreline.

Pursing my lips, I try to estimate how big the wave must be to be

noticeable from orbit.

Even as we speak, the world's total population is likely already down by a

hundred percent. Maybe there are a few survivors in protected locations.
Will the planet be able to recover? Or is the dust-cloud alone enough to
start a global ice-age?

Tjenemit jumps to his feet, rattling his chair against the office desk.
“What are those imbeciles doing!?” Waving his hands, he instructs his
viewing screen and zooms in on a certain scene.

There are Ascathon and Nova, having a stand-off with Myrm, Nazareth,
and Marigold.

My own eyes widen when I see the two foolish brothers standing between
Myrm and Ascathon, probably the worst of all places to be right now.
Getting between the two… three... is like trying to separate fighting cats.
Even the most foolish of idiots would try that only once in his life – ever.

Tjenemit gestures again and the scene zooms closer. Speakers which are
likely hidden in the walls allow us to listen in on their conversation.

“You just have to stay calm, Myrm,” Nazareth beseeches the angered
goddess in front of him, fully clad in her silver armour. “You know what
will happen if Tjenemit should get involved.”

Meanwhile, Marigold is making calming gestures at Ascathon and Nova,

but neither of them looks like they would want to calm down. In fact, they
look like they are enjoying the savagery they caused.

I shudder as I consider the probable implications of two bodies sharing

one soul. It shouldn't even be possible as far as I know, and I learned quite
a few things about soul magic from my father back in the day.

“He is using Ascathon and Nova at the same time!?” Tjenemit gawks at
the screen, but then he shakes his head, deciding to leave the how to be
answered some other time. “I have to stop this!” He mumbles.

“Aeeeh...” I let out an intelligible sound as my thoughts tumble and flip

over each other. Had I not reacted immediately, he might have taken a
pathway right to the scene of crime. Thankfully, he halts to learn what I
have to share.

Normally, I expected my timing to be just right For Tjenemit to become

witness to Ascathon's and Myrm's final battle! Marigold's and Nazareth's
presence was never anticipated. Worse, those fools are trying to broker a
peace, which would mess up all my plans.

“What!?” Tjenemit turns to face me when I continue my intelligible

babbling, glaring with suppressed rage.

“I- I-” Think! Think! What can I do to buy time? “Don't think that's wise!
They may attack you. What happens if you get injured? Wouldn't you lose
face in front of the other Council members?”

“I don't think that would be a probl-”

I gasp, covering my mouth with one hand while pointing at the scene.
Thank the multiverse that Nova decided not to play nice and stepped
forward, burying the tip of her spear in Marigold's chest. Tjenemit didn't
see, so I decide to comment on what he missed. “By the Divinity! She
stabbed that weapon right through Marigold's aura as if it wasn't there.”

Pulling out the spear, Nova retreats two metres, back to Ascathon's side.

With his flight magic failing him, Marigold falls and Nazareth screams
when he turns around and notices it. “Brother!”

Myrm vanishes from her spot, only to impact on Ascathon's shield a

moment later, pushing him back into the far distance. Nova follows the
two of them, causing a supersonic 'boom' right upon departure.

Left alone and ignored, Nazareth does his best to catch his brother before
he impacts the ground.

Meanwhile, I thank my lucky stars that things worked out after all.

“Tjenemit, it might be best if you stayed here. Those weapons in

Ascathon's and Nova's hands look like Mana Crystal.”

“But that's impossible! And forbidden! Any pieces of Mana Crystal which
are found and of sufficient shape to be used as weapons are to be given to
the authorities!”

I purse my lips. “Those don't look like the measly shards which can be
found outside the Crystal City.”

Shards of Mana Crystal are not unheard of to be used as weapons among

the gods, as they can be found anywhere on the planet on which the Crystal
City is located. So, naturally, there is a law to give up any piece of
sufficient form and size that could be used as a weapon.

The law’s purpose is in equal parts to limit murder among gods, and to
keep the Council’s power-base untouched. If they are the only ones with a
decent stock of god-killer weapons, it’s hard for any unhappy faction to
launch a revolt against the current regime.

Tjenemit gulps, only now noticing the very usable spear and knife in
Nova's and Ascathon's possession. “Maybe I should watch a little longer,
just to be sure of their capabilities before I stop the battle and punish
them. It would serve nobody if I call in the rest of the Council and it turns
out to be a false alarm.”

Then he stops moving, thinking about his political situation with his co-
rulers. “This is a minor disaster! Ascathon and Myrm will suffer
punishment for embarrassing me like that! And I have to find out how he
got his hands on those weapons!”
“Which kind?” I ask demurely.

“The worst! They fucked up the whole experiment, which I am responsible

for. They used Crystals as weapons. They killed their fellow deities, some
of them for good! That murdered guy down in the office had to be mind-
wiped. That’s the closest thing to actual death that can happen to an
immortal. If nothing else, this is bound to have me lose face in front of the
others. I'll have them thrown to the Dark!”

I wet my lips, wanting to ask what he meant exactly, but something tells
me to steer away from that topic. If this is related to the disappearing
deities and Tjenemit just had a slip of tongue, then pointing it out would
be bad.

“If you would listen? I actually have a suggestion that might be better.”

“What do you care!?”

“Ahem.” I try to sound pissed. “I happened to live on that planet long

before those two arrived, and they are messing it up! Not to mention all
those souls I have to take care of in my function as the Goddess of Life
and Death. How many did they kill? Milliards?”

Truth be told, I never actually did my job as the wayfarer. My own amulet
never worked on my mind, so I didn't feel any need to mess with the
natural order of things, aside from those cases in which the amulet forced
me to act by teleporting me to some scene. “Aside from that, Ascathon
just killed Marigold who was a friend of mine.”

Tjenemit narrows his eyes, thinking.

The World
Nova
We laugh even as we receive another shattering blow from one of Myrm's
frontal assaults as he tries to break through my aura with actual physical
blows. It begs the question of whether he actually ever fought another god
in earnest. At least the main culprit is here and my mind is starting to clear
up enough to recognise that the one who we thought of as a woman is
Myrm. The chaotic energies which are flowing from my tome are still
messing with my thoughts, but at least we recognize the person in armour
now.

“You are going to pay for this!” Myrm screams with righteous fury and
changes tactics.

Instead of continuing the mindless assault, Myrm concentrates and his

aura retracts back into his body, making him seem almost like a mortal.

Something in the back of my mind whispers that this isn't the usual
suppression of a god's aura. That would make no sense under the
circumstances, so we assume the worst. He must have pulled back all the
leaking energy to use it as effectively as possible.

Then he moves and we manage just in time to block him with Nova. There
is a quick exchange of blows as he tries to get past my weapons. A leg
kicks out and I dodge to the side. At the same time, Nova strikes with the
spear, using it as a club. But Myrm twists out of the way, ignoring our aura
singing his body.

Getting his bearings, he tries to use the opening to attack Nova, but
Ascathon lunges forward, trying to bury my knife in the enemy’s back.

Myrm aborts his attack to evade again, retreating out of range of Nova’s
spear who swung it back in an arc. We are only able to hold him back
thanks to the fact that he is paying the Crystal Weapons a hefty amount of
respect. Then, too fast for me to react, Myrm blurs with movement and
one of his fists gets through, striking straight through my aura and hitting
Nova's shoulder.

The metal of her golden shoulder protection dents and we feel bone break
as energy is transferred directly into my body.
Retreating to a safe distance, Myrm shakes his fist, revelling in the fact
that he got in a hit. “You may have two bodies, but you are also paying for
it by diluting your aura over a larger space.”

Lunging forward, he is suddenly in front of me and we feel his foot

impacting my chest. Ascathon is just too slow. All we can do is to circulate
as much power as possible through our body to mitigate the damage.

Then I am flying, spinning. A seemingly endless moment of

weightlessness, while we continue the fight with Nova. Then an impact,
earth, and dust everywhere.

Clenching my teeth, both of us take a pathway to the other side of the

planet, appearing above the central ocean in the deepest of nights. Only the
moon is illuminating the rocking waves beneath.

But there is no time to survey our surroundings. If the short exchange with
Myrm showed us anything, then it’s that any form of close combat with
this person is not an option for us.

Reaching up, we imagine grasping the shining light above us and pull.

Myrm appears in a flash of light, ready to attack. “You can’t run from-
Hngh!” He lets out a surprised noise as Nova barrels into him, wrapping
her arms and legs around the god, using her spear as a leverage.

Taken off-guard by the amateurish attack, Myrm tries to push Nova off.
There is some wriggling and cursing, then the God of Order looks up, his
attention drawn by the brightening light from above us. Still hugging
Myrm with all my might, we pour my magic into our surroundings to stop
him from using the pathways.

Above us, the world’s moon seems to fill the entire sky, replacing the night
with a brightness never seen before.

Grinning wickedly, we give it a last good yank and my Ascathon persona

takes a pathway away from the site of the immediate collision.
“No! You insane bitch! What have you done!?” Myrm squirms and
manages to twist his upper body free, pushing me away with incredible
strength, but Nova’s legs are strong and I hold onto him.

Due to the closeness, Nova grasps the spear with both hands close to the
tip and wields it like a dagger.

Myrm manages to deflect the lethal blow, but Nova still buries the weapon
deep in his shoulder.

“The ones that came before you stood strong and tall and brave. But they
had their day.” Leaning into him, we whisper, “You will be like all the
others who dared to challenge us. This fight is already over, you just don’t
realize it.”

Then the moon comes crashing down on us and Myrm releases his aura in
an attempt to defend himself. Grinning, I abandon my own defences in an
attempt to tear down Myrm’s.

The atmosphere around us ignites as I twist the blade in his shoulder and
we are thrown around in a hurricane of power as we are pushed beneath the
sea, plunged into the darkness which is suddenly replaced by bright white.

The World
Ascathon
I fight a headache as my connection to my Nova entity abruptly cuts off,
replaced by an emptiness in my brain which is demanding to be filled, but
there is no time to mourn the loss.

Holding onto my left hand with my trembling right, I fight with all my
might to control the hybrid spell I am about to unleash on the world.

Hovering above my palm is a sphere of chaotic energies, glowing bright

red and almost impossible to contain. After some consideration on how to
destroy the World Enchantment, I found it necessary to combine a
powerful disenchantment effect with something destructive, just to make
sure that there is no possible hideout for any fragment of the enchantment.

Simply blowing up the whole planet would work, but there is no way to be
certain that there isn’t some fragment left by random chance.

There are also still those gods who didn’t participate in the conflict, but
the enchantment on them should dissolve thanks to their own aura as long
as they aren’t anywhere close to the world where it can be renewed. The
probability for success is high enough to try, but I’ve quite obviously
overestimated my ability to channel chaotic energies.

Letting go of my trembling hand, I brush over the tome at my side. “Open

the Gate to the Plane!”

I feel the door springing into existence behind me, pouring forth pure,
unrefined power which I channel into the spell while adding everything
my own divinity is able to give for control. More forces pour into the
spell, more pressures try to wrest away my control as the light in my palm
grows ever brighter, a shining, red star above the world like it was seen by
the mortals so many times before.

Only that this time, it truly spells the world’s end.

Myrm appears a few meters away, Nova’s spear in his hand. His armour
lost its shiny appearance, dented and in parts melted onto his body, I find it
surprising that he is still alive.

“You are too late.” I smile. “I am done.”

“Yes, you are.” Myrm approaches me, barely able to lift the spear. “Have
you truly sacrificed your second body just to get the time to cast this
spell? What a stupid gamble. Look at you. You can’t even hold that hand
steady. It will be easy to dodge, and then you are dead.”

“Myrm, you are smart, but at the same time, you are also stupid. You took
away everything that held me back, while everything that holds you back
is still on that burning ball of dirt.” Aiming the spell, I point not at Myrm,
but at the world below us.

He stops and raises a hand. “No. What if there are still survivors?”

“Do you truly think that I care about that?”

I fire the spell.

Myrm teleports and then he is right beneath me, trying to block the spell.
His arm blurs and the spear leaves his hand. I feel something stabbing into
my belly, passing through my chest and out of my shoulder. It takes a full
second for me to register the pain, for the Crystal Spear to tear through my
body and my very soul.

I scream in agonizing pain that goes beyond the physical body, only now
truly realizing what I created as I feel the wound in my astral self.

Below me, Myrm learns his folly in attempting to bar the spell’s path. The
magic tears through his arm, then his upper body comes apart as bits and
pieces of him are flung in every direction, the spell unerringly spiralling
downwards towards the surface.

A tired sigh escapes me and I close the Gate with the last of my power.

Then I fall.
 Chapter 46

The Crystal City

Seria
The room is large, with one elevated podium and seven chairs facing
several rows of benches, making it clear to everyone who is in charge of
this hastily assembled emergency meeting.

While the people on the committee were studying the reports and listening
to Tjenemit's explanations, their audience of ragtag deities had fallen into
complete silence, awaiting their sentence like chicken at the chopping
block.

The problem wasn't just that the people on the seven chairs were powerful,
but that they were the ultimate power as far as the civilised part of the
multiverse was concerned.

Apart from myself, there were a few recognizable faces among the hapless
fools in the audience, like Zenial, the Goddess of the Moon, or Ardun, God
of War, who had wisely decided against a second stand-off with Ascathon,
having learned his lesson the hard way from the previous encounter.

I was surprised to find him here myself. Normally, gods are of strong
character, often too prideful to refuse to fight a battle, especially when
they have a history. I would have pegged Ardun to be the type who would
rather die than to admit their weakness, especially since his domain is war.
Apparently, being locked in a small closet with Ascathon's pet taught him
a few survival instincts.
“Those weapons are worrying. How did he get his hands on such powerful
items?” El Shaddai asks after having studied all available evidence. He
massages his golden chin, turning his empty, emotionless gaze on us. From
among the whole Council, he is considered to be the most powerful and
their leader.

“He is quite inventive. Maybe he made them?” Elohim offers, a rarely

seen member of the Council. It’s said that most of the time he busies
himself with magical research, exploring the ways of enchantment and
nature magic. Green hair and plants are growing all over his body which
makes him look like some strange mixed breed between an elf and a
dryad.

The Council member's long ears droop. “It would mean that he
rediscovered a lost art.”

“It would be interesting to learn how he managed that,” Amaru admits

grudgingly, correcting the positioning of the monocle on his left eye. His
plain clothes and the dishevelled hair give the impression of some mad
professor, but everyone knows that he is the Crystal City’s leading
authority in magitech.

“Too dangerous!” Enyo throws in. “Gather their souls once they are done
fighting and weakened. Imprison them for good so that they are no longer
a danger!” She throws back her glistening, black hair, sitting ramrod
straight in her black battle regalia. A terrible beauty who is in charge of
the Council’s military forces, a Goddess of Carnage and Destruction. “Say
the word, El Shaddai, and I will take care of it.”

“You can always count me in when it’s about killing,” Eris admits
cheerfully. With her brown hair and average human appearance, she looks
the most normal of the bunch. But that's only her outside appearance.
Many of her victims underestimated the Goddess of Strife and Discord.

“No killing. Haven’t the two of them served us loyally for millennia? I am
sure that such devoted service should at least earn them a chance at
redemption.” Lada throws her weight in on the other side, living up to her
reputation as Goddess of Love and Harmony. She smiles, lighting up the
room with her angelic beauty and wavy white hair.

Before El Shaddai can administer a sentence, Tjenemit raises a tanned

hand, sensing his chance to influence the outcome of the edict. “I have a
suggestion. We shouldn’t allow Ascathon and Myrm to run free after what
they did. But the matter of the Crystal Weapons requires our attention.
What if the problem isn’t solved by dealing with Ascathon? And how did
Myrm manage to penetrate Ascathon’s aura so easily, without any weapon?
Does she also have some hidden advantage?

“I think it's quite safe to say that the two of them are dangerous, but at the
same time, they clearly have secrets that are worth knowing. We have to
find out from where those weapons came, and how exactly Myrm did what
she did. For that purpose, I suggest imprisoning them. Let them
reincarnate in a controlled environment where we can safely learn their
secrets.”

El Shaddai hesitates, his golden mien showing indecision. “How do you

suggest doing that? As soon as they reawaken their divinity, they will be
able to use the pathways and escape.”

I nod to myself. Normally, that would be the case. A god might be slain,
but he or she would reincarnate just like any other immortal, likely
regaining their divinity within a few decades.

Tjenemit gestures towards me. “We have a loyal individual who proved
herself countless times. She can take the two of them into a Void Zone
where they can exist as shadows of their former selves until they give up
their secrets. There would be no way for them to escape.”

El Shaddai’s gaze falls onto me and I make a point of demurely fixing my

gaze on the floor to his feet. With two voices in favour and two against,
two more being only interested in research and knowledge, the ultimate
decision falls to him.

“Seria, how certain are you that you could contain them? Is there a
possibility that they could learn your skill in wandering the Void Zones? I
would consider such a possibility quite troublesome, which is why we
discourage people from journeying into the Void. Having one like you is
already too much.”

Only because you couldn't possibly catch me if I decided to run away and
cause havoc.

But I banish the thought and play the loyal servant instead. “It’s unlikely,
as I explained before. Even if they learned the ability, it would take
countless eons for them to achieve the necessary mastery to navigate the
Void and free themselves. I myself don’t know exactly how much time I
lost when I first entered a zone. The madness of isolation came and went,
and it only rarely receded enough to train myself until I managed to break
free. I remember nothing of the time before.”

“Hm.” He nods, considering my answer. “I really would like to learn where

these Crystal weapons came from. Go, Seria. Gather their souls and bring
me these weapons for further study. Their ability to cut through auras is
too dangerous to leave them out in the world.”

Bowing deeply, I depart with brisk, short steps to do the Council’s bidding.
On one side, I want to be as far away from them as quickly as possible. On
the other, I don’t want to look like I am running away.

The less time I give them to change their opinion, the better.

Internally, I fight the urge to do a cartwheel down the corridor between the
mostly empty banks. Thanks to me influencing Tjenemit, they did exactly
what I wanted them to do! It also helped that Lada has a soft spot for me
which I might be able to exploit in the future. She is the only character
among the Council members who isn’t utterly despicable in my opinion.

The Void
Ashley
“What are you doing?” I ask, entering Seria’s workshop. Ever since she
transported a whole planet into her Void Zone, the Goddess of Life and
Death was working feverishly on something. She even neglected to
supervise me and my daughters, utterly confident that we wouldn’t be able
to escape.

Now I finally understand how Ascathon must have felt under the influence
of the world enchantment. Being confined to this dead world isn't much
different.

“She is trying to repair Ascathon’s and Myrm’s soul,” Karin informs me.

She is observing Seria’s work from right next to the goddess. A bored
expression showing on Karin's face, making it clear what the girl thinks of
soul magic. She is talented with many aspects of magic, but soul magic
isn’t her forte. What Seria is doing might as well be the script of the
ancients.

I approach, studying the four globes which are hovering in front of Seria.
She is manipulating them with both hands, trying to fix the damage. A
relay of spell-emitters is holding her magical array in place, making it
easier to manipulate each soul within a stasis field.

The whole machinery looks quite impressive and familiar. I remember the
large, circular plate, with spikes protruding from its centre and the outer
edge, bending back inwards to form something like a cage. The four lights
which are caught inside are shining with varying brightness.

Her insecure actions tell me right away that Seria is having problems.
First, she manipulates the spell matrix, just to undo the change right
afterwards, then trying it with a different route. It's not the behaviour of
someone who knows the solution to a problem, but of someone who is
searching for a solution.

Three of the souls seem to have suffered heavy damage to the part that
Ascathon always called the anchor, while one is in a moderate state. It
means that their memories are essentially intact, but will remain mostly
inaccessible. The soul which is the worst off looks like there will be some
permanent memory loss.

I silently watch Seria’s efforts until I am certain of my assessment. “The

way you are going about this will take you decades, maybe centuries...”

“Yes, it will. The damage to Myrm is extensive. Do you have a better

suggestion?” Seria turns to glare at me. “Finally coming around to help?”

I press my lips together. “It’s not like we have much choice, do we? And I
would like to see Ascathon and Willow again at some point.” I nod with
my chin at the two souls which she was working on. “Who are those two?”

“Marigold and Nazareth. It took me quite some time to gather what the
spell left of them.” She shakes her head. “I have no idea what Ascathon
unleashed with that last spell, but it didn’t only fuck up the world, but
every soul on it. It’s like their soul anchors were put through a shredder.
Repairing them is like putting together a puzzle with several pieces
missing. To be honest, I am not sure if I’ll manage. I thought I would first
try my luck with the two of them before I risk Myrm.”

She returns to her task and I watch her for a long time, grudgingly
admitting that she is good at what she is doing. But as a succubus, I
naturally learned my own share of soul magic and I happen to know that
there is a way to make this happen much faster. The question is… would
Seria consider it?

“You know that there is a way of getting this done within a few hundred
years, instead of a few eons,” I ask, waiting for her to turn her attention to
me.

Once I am sure that I have it, I continue, “You can reforge what you have
of their souls like you are doing it now, but there is so much missing that
you will have no other choice but to wait for a soul’s natural regeneration.
Otherwise, Myrm and the brothers would be a case for the mental clinic if
you reincarnate them too soon.” I raise a questioning eyebrow. “Unless
you have a way of accelerating the process?”
“No, I haven’t.” She twirls a strand of her blonde hair between her fingers
and picks at the hem of her blue dress, making it quite clear that she is a
little nervous about considering my suggestions.

I can't blame her. From her point of view, she should be wary of the
possibility that I might try to betray her. She is right on that front.

Nonetheless, I have to admit that her ultimate goal is one I have to share in
the end. Ever since I achieved divinity myself, the Council is as much a
threat to me as it is to Ascathon and Willow. I learned enough about them
to know that they wouldn't let me be. I could try to retreat into the deepest
parts of the infernal planes, but there are things there that even the gods
fear. Running to a place outside the Council’s reach would drastically cut
down on my life expectancy, and I like living.

Sadly enough, trying my luck with Seria's ludicrous plan seems like the
only viable option to achieve a long-term solution.

“Spill it.” Seria gestures towards the souls. “Share the secret of repairing
what isn't there.”

“You could merge them,” I suggest. “Replace the damaged parts with the
working parts of another soul and you will end up with a working
amalgam.”

“No way!” Seria looks at me, aghast. “I want them back like they were!
Mixing them with another soul would only create an abomination!”

I purse my lips. “In Ascathon’s case, you might be right. He was tolerable,
though I would say he is worthy of an update in the social skills
department. Regarding Myrm… really? What is it about her that you want
to preserve? That woman was a total bitch.”

“I explained that already. She wasn’t always-”

“A bitch?” Karin interrupts.

Seria presses her lips together instead of answering, looking like a petulant
child.

I shrug. “It’s your choice. This is your project. If you consent, it would
allow us to ramp up our timetable. The suggested solution wouldn’t even
be permanent. We would get Myrm into a working state, hopefully doing
away with some of her more nasty character traits. The damaged souls
would still heal until they are strong enough to repel each other. During
her next reincarnation, they would split from each other naturally and
return to being two separate individuals. The key is not to bond them too
tightly, or that could have other undesired outcomes.”

A hoarse cough comes from Karin. “You sound like you already tried
that,” she comments, her tone questioning.

“I happened to make one or two experiments in that direction, hoping to

find a way of strengthening a soul.” I make an indecent gesture with my
hands, forming an 'O' with my thumb and index finger, then stabbing the
other index finger in and out in a rapid motion, smirking all the while.

Karin presses her lips together, annoyed at the obscenity.

Oh, how I enjoy teasing her like that. One would think that she got used to
stuff like that after going through my succubus training. Given her age,
she showed a stupid amount of stubbornness in sticking to her ideals.

After getting no further reaction out of her, I explain, “You know… it

would have been quite interesting to have a male who doesn’t give up the
ghost, just because you go a little wild. I thought it might be possible to
create a soul that's too strong to be pulled from its mortal shell.”

Karin looks away, grumbling, “I knew it would have been for a reason like
that. It also sounds like it didn't work anyway.”

I pat my belly. “Sadly, no. Innate demon magic is quite potent at taking
souls. Which doesn't mean that the procedure doesn't have certain benefits
that align with your desires.”
Seria tilts her head, not sure about the idea. “I’ll admit that it sounds like a
workable route – if I were to risk it. But! I’ve only these four souls to work
with. You have no idea how much salesmanship it took me to get Tjenemit
to give the two idiot brothers. The Council confiscated all the others who
were caught up in Ascathon’s spell to do their own research.”

She points at the soul orbs. “And I’ll certainly not use Marigold OR
Nazareth to repair Myrm! One gender-confused psycho is enough!”

I follow that stabbing finger of hers with my eyes, wondering why she is
so emotional about the situation. It isn't like she didn't already sacrifice
countless people for her cause. What are Ascathon and Myrm to her?

“I am always wondering why you get so worked up about those two.”

Though, I have an idea. “Won’t you consider telling me about your history
with them? There must be more than what I was told.”

“None of your business!”

I press my lips together and pick absentmindedly at one of my horns,

considering whether I should really make that last suggestion or not. It
comes down to whether my daughter would go for this or not. She was
always a conniving bitch, but she really liked Ascathon. She was
emotionally destroyed when he left. It took her almost a century to
recover. The only thing that kept her from running after him was that she
didn't want to leave the rest of her family.

It wasn't like she didn't share some responsibility in Ascathon's decision to

leave. A big reason for the failed relationship was her manipulative and
obsessive character. Strangely enough, I am quite certain that she would
take the opportunity to make things right if she was given a second chance.

“Use Isabella’s soul to repair Myrm… or at least what’s left of her.”

Isabella never officially achieved godhood, but Myrm’s soul was damaged
quite heavily in the fight, so there is a reasonable chance that Isa’s
personality traits will come out on top when the two of them are reforged
into one being.
Karin gasps and Seria looks at me as if I am a monster. “We can’t do that!
Isabel’s soul is unharmed. It would be like… like…”

“Taking organs from a healthy patient!” Karin helps.

Seria nods rapidly. “Thanks, Karin. That was the picture I was searching
for.”

I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Are you saying that Isa's own
mother can’t speak for what her daughter would want? Because I can see
what you are trying to do.” I point at the spell-matrix which is holding the
souls in stasis. “This little connection here, and that slightly altered
memory there.”

Seria blushes, but Karin just furrows her forehead, not understanding any
of it.

Leaning closer, I whisper into Seria’s ear. “You might be able to repair
Myrm the hard way, but I can prophesize that when Isa remembers her past
and sees that someone else took her place, there will be more than a little
drama. Following my suggestion would avert another disaster.”

Seria furrows her forehead, looking like she is considering it. “What kind
of disaster.”

“A poisonous one,” I chirp. “Back in the day, Isabella was quite the black
widow when someone triggered her.”

The Goddess of Life and Death purses her lips. “Considering everything I
did to get to this point, what is one more abomination? For all I know, this
might as well have been fate...”