Chương 520: BECMI Chapter 519 – Immortal Losses

"The servants I have been sending out to stop this theft of souls bound for the underworld have also been unilaterally destroyed!" the Mother of all Undead went on. By ancient agreement, souls not devoted to any of the Immortals were sent into the Sphere of Death, there to linger until they lost all identity and could be fed into the cycle of reincarnation naturally.

That the Entropics recruited from such souls was a given, but as it prevented the greater headache of other Immortals having to manage so many wayward souls that were not their own servants, few cared that it was the case. Now the kinder, compassionate, and noble souls that did not follow Patron Immortals were being drawn to this new Heaven from across a broad swathe of Astral Space, including from planes and realms where Immortals were completely unknown.

Furthermore, any attempt to divert or claim those souls was being met with vicious reprisals and raids to free them, with several Immortals who'd been too confident in their rights and power and the security of their home planes paying the ultimate price!

"These new 'gods' have the power to rapidly shatter and crush an entire dimensional space, particularly those expanded or buttressed with Immortal Power," mighty Urm, High Hierarch of Matter, looking like a bulky yet precisely-moving earth Elemental formed of glittering precious ores, informed all of those present, but particularly his Hierarch peers of the other Spheres.

"That is a catastrophic level of power, and clearly gives them the power to destroy any one of us as they choose!"

"And yet they've not done so," Paras of Time pointed out calmly, his humanoid form aged, composed, and waters of energy seeming to run slowly down him.

"They've made no aggressive attempts to claim territory or demand fealty, so if they are conquerors, it is of what? This claiming of souls seems to be a matter of form, but is it really necessary for them? It feels rather like a task that is more work than it should be, rather than a vital necessity to them, but they perform it anyway?"

"They destroy our realms, and you do not call it conquest?" Voxus, the High Hierarch of Entropy, almost a female-shaped thing of darkness, uttered angrily.

"What name would you put on such activities, if not war?!" she declared hotly.

"Reprisal," Numzael the Spider, Hierarch of Thought, replied promptly, his extra eyes on his dark-skinned humanoid form watching everyone alertly.

"All such planes were supplying forces to fight the mortal inhabitants of Nown. If this was a true military strike, it would have universally been at the Home Planes of our members, sniping us off one by one." He paused for emphasis, staring without emotion at Voxus' supernaturally dark face.

"I can also confirm that Gearcrux and Thoracis are gone. They had no native Immortals, of course, but they also provided mechanical soldiers and ravening insectile hordes in great numbers to the fighting. Gearcrux seems to have been magnetically purged from pole to pole, utterly destroying all the electromechanical intelligences and leveling their entire civilization. Thoracis' atmosphere was set on fire and burned away with all that live on its surface and even the deepest tunnels. Its ecology is completely gone."

"That… is remarkably restrained considering the utter collapse of the other realms frequently dooms multiple worlds and suns within it completely," great Stellaria, High Hierarch of Energy, observed carefully, her radiant face thoughtful and composed despite the situation.

"They have no Immortals to punish, Stella," old and noble Quarizon of energy pointed out, the impressively muscled, glowing Immortal of Suns looking quite young and vigorous, yet even subdued next to the radiant particles about the High Hierarch.

"The Cog Elders chose to take advantage of the Carnifex's Gates, as did the Hive Mothers of Thoracis. Both were purged in reprisal for overstepping their bounds, and for cooperating with the Carnifex."

"Which leaves the matter of why these 'gods' have not slaughtered the Carnifex outright," said Elder Ssa gravely. He was one of the oldest of all those here, even now preferring a saurial form, if much smaller than the one he'd had in his mortal life.

"Their motivations are irregular and unreliable, their restraint on Nown does not match the vigor they act with in the higher planes." He paused for thoughtful emphasis.

"Our diplomatic efforts have so far gone unanswered?" Oroyosam of Thought rose. He was only an Empyrean, but had attempted negotiation from the beginning in his role of peace-maker.

"We have been rebuffed. The illuminating power recognized my own sincerity, but not those of whom I represent, and so sent me back yet again." The Hierarchs present clucked in annoyance.

"Have any of us managed to recruit mortals to rise in station in recent times?" Liisana of Energy, ancient and ever-beautiful patron of lovers, spoke up charmingly. She was among those completely barred from Nown now, as opposed to being repressed upon it. Even sitting there, those watching her could not help but picture her breaking into dance for them.

"They have raised two Immortals among their own," ancient and kingly Grimr of Thought spoke up, his eyes turning to Wushar the Maker.

"One is of the ancient dwarves, who has risen to Matter by an unknown sponsor. The other was raised up to Time, by, I suspect, the Old Man of the Sea." Who pointedly was not present, independent and uncaring of the opinions of others as ever.

"None of my own people rose to the Apex before the Carnifex were released." His voice was grim and unshaken. He could easily recreate them if needed, but held off for now because they would merely become food for the Carnifex young again. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He would make his own Pantheon in time, even as Thor and Sif fighting for these outsider gods filled him with both pride and regret for not allowing his people to do the same.

There were former Erto clans among the Bolle of the Bright Empire now, those who had been rescued by Bright forces and spirited away before they became meals. The names of Grimr and his loyal guardian Vindler were never invoked now, and barely preserved for historical context in Bright Empire histories, all of which pointed out that Grimr had never allowed his people to rise to greatness, and only by escaping him had the Bolle become who they were now.

The Hierarchs looked about, but even the Entropics could only scowl and shake their heads. While the Carnifex certainly had qualifiers to Entropy among them, the Hierarchs of the other Spheres had long declared that no Carnifex was to be allowed Immortal status in any Sphere, and so even though the Elders of the race had basically overseen the extinction of numerous cultures and kingdoms, eradicated many species and generally enthusiastically pushed Entropy forward, none could be raised to the status.

Perhaps it was for the best. Their actions had also resulted in the deaths of at least four Entropic Immortals and triggered the destruction of half a dozen Immortal Realms, too!

Not all that long ago...

"The two of you ready?" I asked them calmly. The two dwarves behind me shared a single glance. Any animosity about differences in styles and viewpoints had turned into brotherly gruffness and teasing between them after centuries of fighting together. Himmelstern's dark beard was shot through with silver after his centuries, but his frame was old and solid, promising brooding strength ready to be launched with the power of a pent-up spring and a cleaving axe.

Prince Ukker the Silverheart could have walked into Eternity long ago, but had held off for the sake of his people… and his promise to see a Dwarven Immortal of Matter rise to truly help shepherd their peoples. He was here to witness the Ascension of Himmelstern with me.

"We are ready," Himmelstern declared firmly, and we all turned to look at the great vault in front of us. It was still a thousand feet high, wrought of ancient steel and simple Runes that nevertheless held great Immortal Power. The whole thing was a mighty Artifact whose profound purpose was to seal away the Heart of the Mountain… which had a metaphorical meaning of great importance. The closing of this door had cut the Dwarves of Darkmoor's time off from their Creator Immortal, Harnadin the Forge-Father!

It had been thousands of years since then. Moorian dwarves, as they were called, still existed in great numbers in my Ringlands. They formed household servants to numerous Dragon Clans, raised great herds of livestock, and dug and lived deep in the stones as was needed. Over the centuries, they had carved the Ringfangs where they settled into vast sculptures dedicated to the friendship between dwarves, dragons, and the other races of the Ringlands.

The terraces of their lands were things of sculpted beauty, balancing grazing fields, farms, and woodlands with a master's touch. Closest of those relationships was with the Shaden clans, many of whom also preferred to live underground, even if they also longed for sun and sky. The two races had much in common, and mutually agreed that I, sitting way up in my Castle and saying little other than that they should work together and find harmony, was the reason for the prosperity they had…

and why they had endured and survived the war. Dwarven terraces, it turned out, could also be rapidly turned into dwarven fortifications. When the invading armies had come to the Ringlands, seeking elven and dwarven flesh and dragon slaves, it was the dwarves and their defenses they ran into first, and from which dragons and elves alike fought from against them.

Six of the Fangs had fallen over nearly a thousand years of war now, brought crumbling down atop the invaders and the rubble forming an impassable blockade of its own as it crumbled, destroying any passages through the mountain's roots below. The Fallen Fangs slumbered still, but the terraces about them had been restored, and their rubble became ever more fortifications for themselves and their friends. It had taken me over a century to find this Vault door back then.

Wushar's home realm of Materio was not overtly hostile, but this abandoned moon around a sun-scorched planet was uninhabitable, only scattered Elemental beings present here, and it had given no sign or indication of what it held back then. Prince Ukker and Himmelstern had been tasked with finding the Keys to open it, and they had crawled in the shadows through the caverns, mines, and tunnels of Materio's worlds looking for them for hundreds of years.

One of my Eternal Avatars, Gamma-Ceti, had been with them the whole time, of course. One of the side-effects was that we always had a fairly good idea what the Immortals of Matter were up to, because Wushar was a famous smith and generous host with many friends, and had many visitors. The idea that mortals could bug his living area was simply not something he considered possible, and so it was accomplished without too much trouble.

This Vault Door, when it had closed, had cut off the voices of Harnadin's folk from Him slowly and gradually, while encouraging the Immortal to forget all about this particular branch of his subjects. It was as if they had abandoned and forgotten him, or been simply slain outright, and it was only normal he do the same. Finding the keys after locating the Vault had been another trial, stealing through tricks and traps and shutting them down, while making certain Wushar was not warned of this trespassing.

There had been three of them, each with different challenges which turned out to be very important right now. The Runestones were held by each of us. I tapped Dread to the Vault at the same time as we lifted up the ancient carved Stones of basalt, granite, and obsidian, and fit them into place. The call out to Wushar to alert him of the opening of the Vault was blocked and absorbed by Dread.

The Vault remained silent thereafter, forced into slumber once again, even as ancient mechanisms whirled, spun, bars receded, and the unreasonably large Vault door slid slowly and grandly open.