Chương 201: AF Chapter 200 – The Morning After

Hey there! It's been three months since my last call-out, and a hundred chapters. I've got at least 1500 readers checking in every day for new chapters, so this is for them! I advertise my Patreon every day for support, so I'm not dwelling on that, but really, one of the absolute best ways to support an author on Royal Road is just to give a good Rating to them, showing you appreciate them and their efforts.

Perhaps because this is the 6th story here, I'm really getting a lot less Ratings and Reviews than I have in prior books. So, I'm just putting this out there, hoping for you to take a few minutes of your time and hit those Ratings or Reviews, even if it means you finally have to make an account here. Also note: I have a 4. 84 Rating, so anything less than that is a DOWNVOTE for the story, just so you know! The story has only passed rank 50 once, and then was promptly hammered back by some. 5's.

The only way to overcome those things is lots and lots of upvotes making them irrelevant. So, asking for your support at Chapter 200. Just so you know, Chapter 300 is already written, so the story will be continuing on for your enjoyment! On to today's chapter! ================================ The Dread Princess and Warlord Kristie Rantha had the biggest shit-eating grin on her face in the morning.

The Mighty Warlord Commander Briggs looked like he hadn't quite woken up yet, his expression somewhere between great satisfaction and disbelief at what he had just gone through. There were at least a half-dozen young women whose hearts were utterly dashed on seeing the two of them together like that, and just how damn right the two of them looked together. Well, it was what it was. Given their broke n Racial Classes, they really were made for one another.

Kristie hopped into a seat, and I just arched an eyebrow at her.

"How are you even able to walk, or sit straight?" I had to ask.

"Superior Rantha Resilience, trademark pending!" she said, elbowing the massive fellow settling in next to her. It was almost like ringing a bell, the way their ki interacted to those of us who could feel it.

"You should be asking this fellow the same thing!"

"You outlasted me. I surrender," he replied without batting an eye, hands thrown up, an admission that raised quite a few eyebrows from knowing Stoneholders around them, and quite a few women looking at Kris in total disbelief.

"That Null of yours is like an iron wall, so hard and cool. Do you terrify the Casters who try to get intimate with you?"

"Flaring the Null was always an easy way to get the flamboyant young dashing Casters to go pursue softer targets who wouldn't break their bones in bed," Kristie purred, leaning into him.

"Sooo nice not to have to hold back, Fuzzy Mine!" He poked her in the cheek, and his finger bounced off her flawless skin like it had just hit a steel plate.

"Right. Didn't have to worry about hurting someone, either. That was… pretty satisfying," he agreed.

"So, heard you were running back to Mayoi today?" he asked us all, face steadying as he got back to business, and not more dreaming about holding his Hag.

"With a stop in Zaikhal. Want to come? Get the lived-lines of your people started on something other than the North here?"

"How much set-up have you done with them?" he asked calmly, waving his big hand without looking around. There were a lot of eager armed men ready to go, and he'd doubtless seen all the packs outside set up for his inspection… which he'd inspected just walking by.

"Commander, your people don't have the personal dislike of the Gotrok an' Tukora that we do down in the south, but they do love t' fight, an' they owe us, know it, an' want t' show us softies in the south that they don't need us t' come rescue them," Lord Mick said firmly.

"By 'dislike', he means rabid fucking hatred, because every human family in the Vesayans has lost someone to the Hea or the Gotrok," Kris whispered sotto voce to him. The Mick's lips drew back in a feral smile. He'd been killing Hea and Gotroks for nigh on thirty years, and with great fervor during the last fifteen.

"It be no offense t' yer people, Commander, but ye didn't get hit with the slaughter and massacre like we did. Ye've had yer share of threats, aye, but they were high-level and few, not massed. That undead army yesterday were the first of its kind ye had to face, whereas we had six times that number of undead, Hea, and Gotrok hounding our survivors up the Tou-Tou Peninsula until we could get away.

"Why they didnae wipe Stonehold I be chalking up to Elder Oswald's discreet efforts on yer behalf, an' undead nobles not wanting t' bypass their resurrections an' go directly t' oblivion. If they'd come at Stonehold as they did us, there'd be no Stonehold here." Briggs just nodded slowly.

"They have a long history of using lesser races as mercenaries and catspaws in their doings, and doubtless think they were preserving such a force for future machinations, especially with you so bottled up on the islands down there. I think we can both thank their timelessness for actually being shocked that you recovered the way you did, and launched your assault to re-establish yourself on the main island. It was a daring move."

"And it had vivus," Kris nodded, leaning into him smugly.

"Vivus is a threat to 'em."

"Which they have now found out in spades, if they investigated or have spotters or scouts who discovered the fate of their two forces. Even Master Oswald doesn't know the true numbers of undead buried in these mountains and their hidden holes, even if the holes aren't so hidden anymore. But of the five thousand we killed yesterday, less than twenty percent were 'real', and all of those were effectively officers to the Summoned undead." Briggs' voice was grim.

"When their real numbers and powers start to assemble against the threat we represent, it is going to get ugly." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

"That is true, Commander, but they won't respond quickly," I pointed out.

"This force had to be something already assembled and ready to go, just waiting around with timeless patience for the order to finally wipe you and clear the Frozen Valley of filthy living dustmotes, get the soul harvest, and start the bloodstones up again as a direct counter to the olthoi these ineffectual living things can't seem to do anything about."

"We just shitcanned them violently, and while they may not know exactly how, they know vivus was involved," Kris agreed.

"They are old and magically dependent. They are going to want to find a magical solution to the vivus and implement it to secure their own lives. They are going to research old things, Summon up Mythos shit and ask questions, and basically take their time because they know they have time and we can't do shit about that." Briggs' pale green eyes glowered visibly at Kris' words, but he nodded slowly.

"Okay. I know you can get us back here quickly if needed, and Oswald has eyes everywhere looking for mass movements in the area. For all their sneaky underhandedness and slyness, the undead are pretty traditional in their military matters and don't innovate well, relying on their magic to take care of any problems."

"Which is normally an extremely effective thing to rely on," I piped up, and the fighters grimaced and nodded in spite of their own pride.

"If and when I get Spell Engines up and working, well, they are going to learn a lot about relying on spells." Every warrior at the table turned to look at me intently.

"Another surprise in the future, lass?" the Mick asked in resignation.

"Just a massive Runic Wheel that absorbs any spellcasting in the area of effect. You can bring Cast spells into the area, but you can't actively Cast anything while inside it," I informed him.

"Utterly neuters spellcasters if they are in the area."

"Whereupon they have t' rely on combat skills a thousand years out o' date an' get themselves butchered!" the Mick hissed in delight, pounding the table.

"What's the requirements?"

"I've got to reach Fifteen on the Matrix side?" I answered with a shrug. The Mick looked around wildly.

"Someone feed this lass heaps an' heaps o' Karma on the cheap, right now, I say!" he called out, and those listening in laughed in understanding.

"Future planning," Briggs ground out, but he had a special gleam in his eyes. It was a spell made for fortifications.

"Alright. I definitely have the best combat force man-for-man in the islands, no insult to you and your scouts, Lord Mick. I've been working at them longer than you have." The Mick shrugged in resignation. He'd seen them fighting yesterday, and he agreed with that assessment. The Stoneholders had already leaned towards the physical builds, and so they made much better warriors than the more diversified and balanced people of the south.

That said, the South had inherited most of the magical traditions and surviving academics of the Isparians, and had a clear magical edge that could easily make up for a level gap.

"They are eager to see if the Gotrok who are still alive are all that much different from their Summons, I reckon. I'll head up any volunteers who want to go," he didn't bat an eye as cheers rose all around him at the news, "and rely on Oswald and his people to get a message to me if there's need here, and you to bring me and our best back here in case of emergency." He pointed directly at me.

"I promise. I even set up a couple Teleport Foci last night with Master Oswald… oh, and that room full of Di amond Golum H earts you have stored up." He tilted his head at that.

"Yes?" he asked leadingly, feeling something was up.

"You can carve a master Diamond Scarab out of one, Energize it with Life energy, and make a Life Scarab from it," I informed him. He sat up slightly.

"Well," he murmured thoughtfully.

"That is going to come in very handy, I believe?" I nodded slowly.

"But… they need to be carved up." He grimaced slightly, eyes shifting down to Kris, then over to the Mick.

"Lord Mick, do you know the path to Zaikhal? I was told you want to, eh, stop over there."

"Aye. I tramped over even these misbegotten hills in me youth. I can get us there, an' make no bones about it."

"Then I'll bring my tools and start carving on the way, get us started on a reserve."

"I'll help," Kris nodded, to the Mick's surprise.

"You're hauling us on your own, Lord Mick!" He took it in stride, but leaned over to me.

"What do Life Scarabs do again?" he asked quietly.

"Material component for the spell to return someone from death within one day per Caster Level, as opposed to a few minutes ago," I whispered back to him. He paused, thought that over, and cheerfully shouted out, "They're going to be putting up with a lot o' me high society observations on the march!" There were more laughs from all around at that, and the two Warlord Smiths just smiled together.

"We'll be ready for any attacks. Let me grab my go-bag and Furnace, and we'll be ready to pull out." He reached out, grabbed a full loaf of the nutty travel-bread, stuffed it in his mouth, and munched on it as he rose from his seat.

"We're leaving in fifteen minutes for the south! Everyone who's going needs to be assembled by the main gate at that time!" Roars and cheers greeted the announcement, and the Stoneholders all scrambled to get their stuff and get ready to head south. I noted that not all of them were fighters, the merchants and traders taking the opportunity to start opening up trade again through one means or another.

It wasn't like they didn't have the things to trade, as Disks with metal ingots on them were being hauled out of storage to take advantage of this opportunity. Miners finally able to get their products to market. They'd be coming back with refined goods, alchemicals, creature comforts, and the like, probably including a LOT of booze, if I knew my merchants well, and these were some thirsty people here. The Mick was probably going to have a fun time, too.

There were at least a couple hundred Diamond Golum Hearts in the sack that Briggs threw on his personal Floating Furnace/Disk. I imagined they just hadn't had the need for the scarabs, so years of collecting them had just piled up in a room somewhere, waiting for someone to carve them up when they were needed. Elder Oswald said they had thousands of them, just heaped up and gathering dust. Suddenly, they were incredibly valuable, if they could be carved right.

Briggs was in the Markspace now, brought in sometime during the night by Kris… after most of the rambunctious stuff was done. He was a big bright Golden soul, with many great depths and an air of incredible resolve about him, his Source Presence almost lighting up the space and refracting off the absoluteness of Kris' Null. I flitted off to the side as the two of them collaborated on what to do and how to go about making the one scarab where normally a Diamond Heart would yield three.

They'd be at it for hours working out the best method, although ready to pick up their Weapons at any moment. The Mick raised his hand, got a cheer from all the males and females who'd piled on Disks of their own or Disks I'd conjured, and we were off.