“Why
have you requested this meeting?” Viran impatiently demanded.
“W…
Well, that creature we created has… escaped… a-and that’s why I need better
guards. They had one job, and that was to watch the monster. But no, they
couldn’t even do that, and it broke out and fled into the wastes,” Quith
explained in a shaky voice that became somewhat more confident as he shifted
the blame to his subordinates. “Of course, I realized something needed to be
done immediately, but I didn’t want to inconvenience your highness, so I
contacted the Grand Seeker. He and his men tracked down the beast, but those
overconfident fools managed to get themselves killed. So, I had no choice but
to call an emergency meeting.”
For
several seconds, Viran sat on his throne, silently staring at Quith while
running his fingers over a rune-engraved iron flask. “For your failure, I command
you to take a sizable force of soldiers and put an end to your monster… and if
you do not… well, I’ll leave it at that,” the High Emperor finally spoke, his
tone low and threatening.
“B…
but I…” the Soul Lord began to protest before seeing Viran reach for the
flask’s brass stopper. “All right. I’ll do that right away, sir,” Quith
acquiesced before turning and making a hasty exit from the room.
“Do
you think Quith will succeed on his mission?” Viran asked with a hint of
amusement.
“I
doubt it,” replied Gaath, who had been standing silently beside the throne.
“But I also doubt that we really have much to worry about. I don’t think he is
capable of creating something powerful enough to stand against us. It is likely
I will have to get involved at some point, but I am confident that I will
prevail.”
“I
believe you are right, and in the unlikely event that the creature proves to be
too much for you… I will step in,” The High Emperor concluded.
Ì
Witherius
drifted over the massive, crimson mushrooms as he continued his journey to meet
with the king of the piglins. Below him, the wither could see 303 marching at
the center of an entourage of wither skeletons. “Look over there. I think I see
some piglins,” Right pointed out. The other two heads followed Right’s gaze and
spied a small group of humanoid pigs wearing golden armor and wielding
crossbows and golden swords.
The
Wither silently noted that the piglins must have spotted his company, as the
piglin patrol began to head in their direction. He floated down toward the
ground as the piglins drew near. The patrol suddenly halted, and one of their
number stepped forward. He had a scar over one eye and donned a black vest under
his battle-worn, gold armor.
“What
is your business in the crimson forest?” the warrior questioned, speaking in a
commanding voice that gave Witherius the impression he was the leader of this
patrol.
“We
have come here to have a diplomatic meeting with King Zavlok,” Center
confidently replied. “Can that be arranged?”
“What
is the reason for this meeting?” the patrol leader gruffly demanded.
“We
have a… proposition for the king, the details of which we would like to discuss
with him alone,” Right coolly replied.
“Alright,
follow us. We will take you to the king’s bastion,” the piglin acquiesced.
Ì
The
massive golden gates sluggishly swung open, admitting Witherius and company
into the halls of the piglin king. The brutish guards escorted the visitors
through a series of blackstone halls and into a sizable throne room. The walls
were hung with banners, most of which prominently featured symbols similar to
pig snouts. At the opposite end of the room was a throne made entirely from
netherite, and upon it lounged a piglin wearing armor and a crown, both made
from the same extremely rare and valuable metal.
“I
see I have visitors,” King Zavlok acknowledged in a deep and bored voice. “I
have one question for you. Will your proposition make me money? If not… then
begone from my presence.”
“I
would certainly say so… but we believe that it will help you in more ways than
that,” the wither began. “We have decided that the Great Builder Empire is a
scourge upon this realm and its inhabitants, and have resolved to unite the
disparate peoples of the Nether against them. The destruction of the builders
would most certainly afford you and your people great riches, and the removal
of the scourge should be as much, if not more, of a boon than that,” Witherius
finished. “And… you get to bust some skulls!” Left loudly interjected.
“I
have considered the Builders to be my sworn enemy ever since their king slew my
predecessor. You also make a good point about the riches I will acquire from
this. Not only that, but you have even managed to convince the boogieman from
the wastes to join your cause.” He briefly regarded 303, who was standing
silently off to one side. “I shall accept your proposal. Death to the
Builders!” the towering pig man boomed. “Guard! Go and mobilize the troops at
once!” he commanded. “However, if we want to win this war, my forces alone will
not do. We must gain the support of Pyran and Irritus, although with their
dispositions, I do not think that shall be terribly difficult.”
“Thank
you,” Witherius gave a courteous bow of his heads. “And I hope you are correct
in that assessment.”
Ì
“As
much as I’d like to march up to Viran’s castle and put an end to him myself, we
must gain the support of the other kingdoms first. But we must act quickly
before he decides we are a threat and sends his general to take care of us,”
Zavlok gravely explained.
“Yes,
I believe you are correct. However, Viran is an overconfident fool and I doubt he
will send his general for a while, but he has likely already sent a different
and weaker lackey to deal with us,” 303 assessed.
“I
suggest that we start by heading to Charburg and petitioning the aid of King
Pyran,” Right chimed in. “That blaze seems to have nothing but hatred for the
builders, and I suspect he will readily join our cause,” he advised, tapping
into the knowledge of the souls within him.
“Yes,
and he shares my love of battle. All the more reason for him to join us!” Left
laughed.
“Agreed.
Gaining the aid of the blazes should be our next move. Furthermore, once we
have recruited Irritus as well, I suggest we march straight to the capital and
put an end to the builders’ vile monarch,” Center added.
The
sound of pounding footsteps abruptly cut off further conversation as a
breathless piglin rushed into the room. “Your Majesty… a large force… of
builder soldiers… has been spotted… within Gildonia… and appear to be… heading
towards… this bastion… what should…. we do?” the pig man wheezed in between
breaths.
“Is Supreme Commander Gaath with the company?”
303 questioned.
“Not…
that we know of… The force appears to be… led by… a builder wearing a robe made
of stars… I do not know… who he is,” the piglin explained, still trying to
catch his breath.
“So,
they have sent Quith after us. How… unexpected,” Center pondered.
“Who
is Quith?” Zavlok queried, frustration apparent in his voice.
“He
is a soul mage, and our creator. I think it would be wise to deal with him now,”
the wither advised.
“Yes,
this incursion into piglin lands will not be tolerated!” the piglin king bellowed.
“Ready
your soldiers,” Witherius commanded. “We must march at once to confront this
threat.”
“I
shall,” resolved the king.
Ì
“I
see them!” Witherius shouted to his forces as he spotted the enemy army in the
distance from his aerial vantage.
“Charge!”
Zavlok yelled at the top of his lungs as he sprinted forward, an army of
piglins and wither skeletons at his back.
As
the two forces collided, 303 closed his eyes and focused for a moment. Suddenly,
he was standing a short distance in front of the enemy leader. “So, The Hermit
fights alongside the traitors?” Quith guessed, his voice filled with confusion.
“These are strange times, indeed. But even you are no match for the greatest
soul mage in The Great Builder Empire!” he boasted.
“The
greatest soul mage to ever live does not fear a so-called ‘Soul Lord’. Your
pathetic mortal form cannot withstand my might,” the entity scoffed as he
slowly strode forward.
“I
have heard the legends and tales of your arcane might. But what will you do
without your spells?” the Soul Lord laughed as he uttered a brief chant and
held out his staff, creating a shimmering, hemispherical dome of energy around
himself.
303
examined the barrier for a moment before letting out a mocking laugh. “Do you
really think I have not seen this trick before? Perhaps my magic cannot reach
you, but does that barrier of yours prevent creatures from passing through? I
think not,” the entity explained, holding out his own staff as a spectral scythe
head projected from its end.
Quith’s
small squad of soul mages pushed forward, fighting near the front of the
builder forces and driving back the wither skeletons and piglins with their devastating
magic. A glowing, blue skull suddenly plummeted from the sky and crashed into
one of the mages, creating an explosion that instantly killed the unfortunate builder
and sent the mages nearest him flying in all directions.
The
survivors gazed up in terror to see from whence the skull had come. Hovering in
the air above them was Witherius. The wither’s three heads grinned as Xamodas’
enchanted sword flew from the scabbard strapped to his back. One of the mages
deflected the levitating blade with a barrier of magical force, but a second
strike cleaved through the barrier, and a third pierced the man’s chest, ending
his life.
The
mages quickly rallied and began an attempt at retaliation, launching bolts of
flame, rays of cold energy, and blasts of soul fire. Witherius hovered in place,
making no attempt to dodge the attacks as he carved through his foes with his
flying sword and barraged them with flaming skulls. When the smoke of the
mages’ initial onslaught cleared, the wither remained in the same place, and
aside from small patches of frost upon his bones, appeared utterly unfazed.
Zavlok
charged forth, cleaving through enemy lines with a massive, magically
acid-coated battleaxe. The piglin king’s furious rampage through the builders’
forces was suddenly halted as he found his axe deflected by an enchanted
shield. Before him stood a tall and determined builder, clad in a helmetless
suit of armor and wielding a sword and shield. From behind the man stepped four
more soldiers, each covered from head to toe in armor and wielding greatswords.
“You
will go no further. I’ll not let you cut down any more of my men,” the warrior
defiantly declared.
“Who
dares march uninvited into my land and defy me?” Zavlok shot back. “I’ll cut
you down, too, for standing in my way!”
“I
am Lieutenant Lykus, and we shall see about that, for it is you who has defied
the High Emperor and rightful ruler of this realm!” the commander accused,
lunging toward the piglin monarch.
Zavlok
struck his foe’s sword out of the way with his axe and landed a mighty kick to
Lykus’ shield, causing him to stumble back a couple of steps. The king narrowly
dodged one elite warrior’s greatsword, and caught the blade of another upon the
haft of his axe. With a grunt of rage, the piglin leapt forward, slamming his
full weight into one soldier and tackling him to the ground. Zavlok planted his axe in the man’s chest
plate, but the armor prevented the blow from being fatal. Then the piglin
whirled around as a blade glanced off of his armored back.
303
darted forwards, rapidly closing the gap between him and Quith. The Soul Lord pointed
his staff toward the entity and conjured a barrage of soul-energy-infused
flames, which were met by a wall of stone that abruptly rose from the ground at
303’s behest. The entity acrobatically leapt over the wall and continued his
advance, watching with boredom as Quith launched a bolt of lightning from his
staff. The entity stretched out his hand, and a small orb of darkness formed
within his grasp, absorbing and nullifying the electricity before dissipating
into nothing.
Quith
struck out with his staff just in time to deflect the incoming scythe, but was
too slow to avoid a kick to the stomach. The entity swept his blade through the
air again and again, pushing his opponent’s reflexes to their limits. The Soul
Lord ducked under a slice aimed at his neck, and managed to bash his staff
against 303’s side, buying himself a moment to leap back and create some distance.
Quith reached up with his off-hand and plucked one of the large stars from upon
his robe, hurling it at his advancing assailant.
In mid-air, the star split into several bolts
of energy that rocketed towards the entity. There was a series of small
explosions and a cloud of smoke as the projectiles struck. Quith intently
watched the smoke, waiting to see his foe’s battered form emerge. But when the
smoke cleared, 303 was completely unharmed, having summoned an arcane barrier
to block the attack. Before the astonished Soul Lord could react, the entity
leapt forward and slashed his scythe across the builder’s chest. Quith stumbled
back, clutching at his bleeding chest as he lost his concentration on his magic
and his shimmering dome of protection vanished.
Witherius
focused on the soul trapped within his necklace and harnessed its power to
conjure a swarm of vexes to harass the puny soul mages arrayed against him. As
the mages desperately tried to fend off the vexes’ tiny knives with their
magic, the wither began to rain down explosive skulls on their heads. It was
not long until the last mage fell dead to the ground, impaled by the sword
Witherius took from the Grand Seeker. Looking upon his handiwork, the wither
quickly turned his attention to the rest of the builder army.
Zavlok
sliced his axe across one warrior’s chest, leaving a large, acid-covered gash
in the man’s armor. Before the soldier could retaliate, the piglin king
brutally headbutted him in the face, knocking him from his feet. Zavlok leapt
to the side, avoiding a strike aimed at his chest and another aimed at his
back. With a vicious chop, the monarch sent the head of one elite warrior
careening across the battlefield.
Another
soldier’s greatsword passed just in front of the piglin’s face, leaving a small
bleeding cut. With a guttural grunt of rage, Zavlok struck his foe in the
chest, his axe cleaving through the builder’s armor, mortally wounding him. As
the knight slumped to the ground, Lieutenant Lykus sprang forward, bashing the
barbarian king squarely in the jaw with his shield. Zavlok landed hard against
the ground and only narrowly managed to roll out of the way of the enemy
commander’s downward thrust. The piglin found his opening and leapt to his feet
as Lykus pulled his blade from the earth.
Quith
abruptly vanished from in front of 303 and reappeared several yards back.
“Fleeing,
are we? Are you too cowardly to face me with that protection spell of yours? No
matter. With that dome gone, I can simply destroy you from here!” the entity
mocked as he launched a torrent of black flames from his outstretched hand.
“I
need no protection from the likes of you!” the Soul Lord snapped back as he conjured
forth a massive cone-shaped blast of cold energy.
A
tremendous explosion rang out over the din of battle as the two devastating
spells collided. Quith summoned a gust of wind to blow away the smoke, and saw his
foe once again advancing on him. With a hasty incantation, the Soul Lord summoned
a rapidly advancing line of fanged maws from the ground. With contemptuous ease,
the entity leapt to one side, allowing the soul-powered attack to pass him by.
“You
had a good run, ‘Soul Lord’, but I’m afraid it ends here,” 303 mocked as he
flourished his scythe-staff expertly through the air. The entity suddenly
vanished from where he had been standing, and a split second after watching his
foe disappear, Quith felt a sharp pain in his chest as an invisible force
sliced across his front, leaving a large diagonal tear in his robes and a badly
bleeding gash in his flesh. The force of the blow knocked the aging man from
his feet. As he fell, he noted with astonishment that 303 was now standing
behind him. Quith landed painfully on the ground, his staff rolling a foot to one
side.
“I
do not know how one such as yourself could have ever attained that title of
yours, or how soul magic has become the art of weaklings. In my day, it was
considered the strongest form of necromancy. I shall now put an end to your
disgraceful life, and the world will be cleansed of the stain of your hubris
and amateurish arts,” the entity berated, raising his weapon to strike as he
finished his speech.
With
his last ounce of strength, Quith snatched his staff from the ground and raised
it into the air. “If this must be the day I die… then I am dragging you down to
the underworld with me!” the Soul Lord spat defiantly as he brought his staff
down onto the ground with all his might.
The
impact shattered the staff into numerous small shards as the arcane energy
stored within was realized in a tremendous blast of magical power. The numerous
piglins, wither skeletons, and builders who were unlucky enough to be caught in
the blast were reduced to little more than charred smudges on the netherrack by
its sheer power. 303, although durable enough to avoid the same fate, was flung
backward with such force that the giant mushroom he crashed into was toppled to
the ground. At the center of the crater left by the explosion lay several
shards of the broken staff, the only trace that anyone could find of the Soul
Lord.
Lykus
twisted to the side, allowing the raging piglin’s axe to narrowly miss him. The
experienced swordsman deftly flicked his blade, slamming the flat of his weapon
against Zavlok’s wrist, causing him to drop his axe. The lieutenant stabbed at
the now disarmed monarch, but the piglin caught him by the arm and held his
sword at bay. While the builder struggled to free his sword arm, Zavlok grabbed
hold of his foe’s shield, and with great effort, wrenched it from his grasp. The
piglin king swiftly began twisting Lykus’ other wrist, putting the commander in
more and more pain until he was finally forced to drop his weapon.
Lykus
attempted to punch his assailant with his good hand, but his foe was too fast
and caught that arm as well. Zavlok held tightly onto both of his foe’s wrists
as he headbutted him in the face. Before Lykus could recover from the blow, a
second one came, and in a few moments, there came a third, breaking the
builder’s nose. With a furious snort, Zavlok let go of his foe’s arms and kicked
him hard in the stomach, sending his prone form to the earth.
The
piglin king leapt to one side as one of the warriors he had injured earlier
attempted to strike him with his massive blade. Zavlok snatched the enemy’s
lieutenant’s fallen blade from the ground and lodged it in his attacker’s
midsection. The monarch watched as the last of Lykus’ elite warriors approached
him. Zavlok let go of the lieutenant’s sword and sprang forward, taking the soldier
by surprise. The piglin darted behind his foe and gripped his neck with both
hands, twisting with all his might until he heard a satisfying crunch. The king
released his grip and watched as the last of his enemies toppled to the
netherrack.
In
a few great strides, Zavlok reached his dropped weapon and hoisted it above his
head, letting out a victorious bellow as his rage finally subsided. A moment
later he heard a cry of “Retreat!” and spotted Lykus sprinting away from the
battle, clutching his badly bleeding nose with one hand. In moments, what
remained of the builder forces turned on its heels and began a swift exit from
the battle.
Witherius
drifted down from the air, approaching the piglin king. “The builder forces
have been routed, and our foolish creator has been vanquished!” Center victoriously
proclaimed.
“Once
again, that overconfident king has sent forces that were far from a match for
us. But who knows how long we have until he dispatches his general. I believe
it is imperative that we are ready when he finally does,” Right cautioned.
“I
look forward to giving that general of theirs a taste of what we gave to
Xamodas!” Left chortled merrily.
“I
am sure that the builders’ lieutenant will not soon forget this day,” Zavlok boasted.
“Wait…
Where is 303?” the wither questioned with mild concern.
“I
am here,” 303 replied in a pained voice from a short distance away as he limped
toward his allies. “That blast was really something, but I am a little too
tough to die to a thing like that… However, I may not exactly be in perfect
fighting condition for a while to come,” the entity explained. “Well… at least
I am still able to do this!” he declared as he raised his staff over his head
and began to chant.
As
the entity’s chant continued, numerous bursts of soul energy flew from his
staff in all directions, infusing the corpses of the fallen builders and
resurrecting them as wither skeletons. After several seconds, 303 ceased his
incantation and looked around at his new undead army.
“With
our forces replenished, I say it’s time we march to the fortress of the blaze
king!” Witherius announced.
“I’m
with you on that one. Even with my army of piglins and your friend’s undead
horde, the High Emperor’s forces still badly outnumber us. Pyran’s aid shall go
a long way towards changing that,” Zavlok agreed.
“Do
not worry about me. I shall be able to manage the trek,” 303 assured them.
“Then
we shall set out,” Witherius commanded.
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