They called it Oelnnox. The place where the Titan of Baleros was keeping the children.

Of course, that was a lie. He hadn’t taken the children from their families in the night.

That was Jungle Tails. They had not broken the doors down and dragged the children screaming into the streets…at the start. Rather, Lizardfolk had lined up before the Nagas to send their children to a place, they were told, that would give them levels, training. Help them evolve. Defeat the Forgotten Wing Company that was attacking Jungle Tails. Restore the Eyes of Baleros to the temples, and finally, finally, bring back the Nagatine Empire.

Only when those children had never returned, and more had been demanded, year after year, had the kidnappings begun. Families had begged, petitioned, tried to recover their children or just learn what had become of them.

They vanished too, and that was the legacy of the facility. The Titan hadn’t been responsible for any of the sins now thrown at his feet.

Niers Astoragon was merely the one who had found Oelnnox. Marched his armies past the city of Ebbyxi and breached the stone keep buried in the hill. Then ordered his forces to surround the hill. Had every Naga in Ebbyxi marched out at spearpoint and demanded answers. Then—cordoned off the entire area. He did not let the children out, though hopeful parents who’d been begging to see them for years had come crowding around the doors.

He’d called for [Healers]. He’d called for [Mages]. He had called for Foliana, Three-Color Stalker. Then he had a huge ring of defenses constructed around the facility.

Oelnnox was never opened.

But it was a lie, also, to imply that no children had ever left Oelnnox. They had. Jungle Tails had taken a number of them out in the months before the Titan’s forces swept the region. And, in the decade since the Titan had taken that spot…certainly some children had emerged. A few times, each one notable, remembered.

Oh, and the last lie was this: they called it Oelnnox. But Jungle Tails had not named it when the children had been brought there. The facility had been named long before that. It was not the first time the facility had been used for purposes that required a lack of light and prying eyes. Maybe it made it easier, working in a place that was already stained.

That was where they went. The Sariant Lamb who wore a Human’s form. The [Doctor]. The Wind Runner. The Earthers, the Selphid clone, the faeries, and mercenaries. It was so they could see, out of curiosity. Because at least one of them thought they needed an army.

The Titan allowed it, because it served his ends. But it would be wrong to say that he had no idea what to do with the children there or what he was sending the Earthers into. It was just…

Difficult.

——

Niers Astoragon debated telling ‘Erin’ what she was going to find until the day of their departure. In the end, he gave her a letter for her to read, provisioned her few hundred [Mercenaries] and the United Nations company, ensured they had clear roads and measures against trouble—at least from [Assassins] or [Bandits]—and left it at that.

Part of it was spite. If ‘Erin’ wanted to prove herself, claim the power of that place, she could damn well earn it. Telling her his perspective would cloud her judgement, anyways.

The other, more reasoned part he hoped was informing the decision was, well, guilt. It was hard. In the end, he decided he had to tell someone, and so he compromised. He summoned two individuals to his study whom he felt would benefit from the information.

“Wil. Yerranola. Come in. Have a seat anywhere. Are you ready to travel? Yerra, how’s your mobility?”

The Titan was drinking as he sat on his table, staring at a few candles he’d lit and old journal entries. Instantly, both his students were fascinated.

They had never seen, nor known of, the Titan’s personal bookshelf of journals. Each one was hand-written. Unique. Never-copied, stained with dirt and blood and even moss from his travels. A fortune beyond fortunes. He glanced up as Yerra stumbled a bit, and Wil hurried to clear a chair of documents for her to sit. She sat, jerkily, and her cheeks turned orange under her pale, Human body.

“I’m good to travel, Professor! Just a bit—stutter-y. I don’t need to run around to lead the mercenaries. Plus, most’re Selphids. They’ll listen to me.”

He regarded her with one eye and nodded.

“As I understand it, you’ve lost too much body mass due to the poison, and operating regular forms is difficult, damage aside, yes?”

She hesitated. The Gnolls had helped complete her treatments, but she had continued to ‘shed’ damaged parts of her body. Complications in the healing after she and Wil and everyone else had hoped she was done. She nodded glumly, and Niers went on, voice brisk. Not unkind, but direct.

“You may heal, but right now, you’re no longer the [Strategist] who could run with Marian and Venaz. Remember that, Yerranola. You need to compete with your mind, like General Gloriam had to learn. Forget and Wil will have to make up for your lacks. And this time, it won’t end with your personal wounds. Mess up and your people will die. More than already have, that is.”

His voice was not as kind as normal, and Wil protested as he found another chair and pushed it to the table.

“Professor! Yerra’s been working hard to—”

She silenced him with a glare. Wil hesitated as he sat. Niers just folded the leather journal in his hands and put it on the table.

“If I sound short, Wil, I am. I’m sending you on your first command. You’ve had your first adventure. Tell me again, with the benefit of hindsight. How does it feel to know you’re going into the field?”

They’d done this before, albeit when the world was better. Before Jungle Tails—before Erin Solstice. Niers saw Wil hesitate and glance at Yerra, the casualty of his last adventure, though it had been mercifully kind in terms of deaths. Well, kind to him and his friends. Captain Lasc and the crew of the Emerald Signet had been reduced to a fifth strength. The oceans had run with sailor blood. But it had really been a kind adventure.

This was going to be harder, and Wil seemed to realize that.

“I…if you put it like that, sir, I am worried. About my ability to take command of forces who might not respect me. Of the danger of ambush, especially given Miss Solstice’s reputation. Of Jungle Tails, whom I do expect to encounter. These…pirates…who attacked the Singer of Terandria, and…our destination. It’s not on any maps, sir. At least, none in the markets. It is in the Forgotten Wing company’s libraries, but I understand all the reports about it are classified. I asked the [Librarian].”

Good lad. Yerra shifted as Wil spoke, and Niers nodded to himself. Wil was a peerless logistician. Yerranola had common sense and experience he lacked. Together, Niers hoped they’d be the assets that Erin, Ryoka, Geneva, Beth, and the United Nations company needed. But they were all so young.

“You’re right to worry, Wil. Not about your ability to command. You will learn, win or fail. So long as you don’t run away or break, you’ll improve. But I wish I could flip you with one of the [Strategists] moving towards the Dyed Lands with me. Venaz, Marian, Umina, any of them will have an easier time with their respective duties than you two will.”

That didn’t make his students happier. Now they were glancing at each other, and Niers rang a bell on his table. Seneschal Atmodeca, the Crocodile Beastkin, came in with wine and poured them a cup. Both refused; they wanted to be sober for the next day.

He was proud of them.

He didn’t want them to die. But he wanted them to level. If they didn’t level now, they’d die later. If that made sense? So he’d rather risk their lives now than know they were going to die if he coddled them.

Bastard’s logic. It was why he was drinking.

Oelnnox brought it out in him.

Cups of wine were replaced by water. They drank as Yerranola surreptitiously took the cure that staved the pain off. Her hand shook a bit, and Wil caught her arm and helped put the cup on the table. Then he licked his lips.

“Sir, if you’ll forgive me stating the obvious—you’re headed to the Dyed Lands, where monsters are coming out in literal waves. They’ve taken nearly a hundred miles of territory around the Dyed Lands. People regard it as a cataclysmic event; the only thing they’re arguing over is what level. And Jungle Tails is also fighting the Dyed Lands, so the odds of our classmates seeing both formal war against Jungle Tails and all-out battle against monsters is all but certain. And Oelnnox is worse?”

“Yes.”

It was Yerranola’s turn to take over. Her orange irises were like a flower blooming, wide at the top, narrowing downwards in a stem of color, one of the ways you could sometimes tell Selphids apart.

“Pardon me, Professor. I know you like teasing us, but you seem a bit—off. Even for you. This isn’t you having fun, is it?”

He smiled at her, willing to cut to the chase.

“No, Yerra, it is not. Oelnnox is a hard place to talk about. I have not told Erin about it. Not fully. Let me be more straightforwards. To be honest…I don’t think about it often. Entire months or even a year goes by and I don’t do more than glance at a report. Put it out of my mind. It’s been…a decade since I found it? Well, I was aware of it when the Forgotten Wing company first came to power as a Great Company. It was on my list of things to do, but I was fighting for every holding Jungle Tails had. It was just one item on a long list that included murdering their entire High Command, stealing the Eye of Baleros with the Lightning Thief, allying with the Gazers—you know.”

They were listening now. Intently, but Niers didn’t want to tell war stories. It was not the time. He took a deeper drink of wine. Grimaced.

“Oelnnox is a facility where Jungle Tails embarked on a program to take children—Lizardfolk children from their own people—and turn them into assets. They experimented. They broke the Minacien Wall. They gained blood classes and Skills down there, and the worst part was that they were very, very good at what they did. They did it, you see, because of Forgotten Wing. They were trying to make weapons to win the war.”

“Dead gods. And the children? They—how many did you save?”

“Save? None, Wil. They saved themselves. My forces found the facility, killed the Lizardfolk forces in the region, but when we arrived, it was already cleared of Jungle Tails soldiers. The children rose up. They killed their wardens. Killed the [Soldiers]. And you know what I did after that?”

Wil scrubbed at his hair, thinking, face scrunched up with horror, but Yerranola had gone still. Watching him.

“I imagine you’d need healers, to find their families. The amount of energy and time you’d have to devote to that would be…”

“You didn’t let them out, did you, Professor?”

Yerra interrupted, and Wil’s head shot up. Niers raised his cup.

“No, indeed I did not, Yerra. I had the facility cordoned off. Stationed a garrison force there. For a decade, I have had food and medicine, and [Healers] and [Mages] sent there. It costs a small fortune. But I have not let them out.”

“But, sir! Why…how dangerous are they?”

Wil objected instinctively, then grew pensive, nervous. And the atmosphere that hung around the Titan—like soiled air, greasy, filled with cold sins and lukewarm energy—grew staler still.

“You’re about to find out, Wil. Now, listen to me, you two. I am giving you command over the garrison when you get there. Review their documentation. I had a list of the peculiars, but that bastard, Peclir, stole it. Jungle Tails must still want the facility…they’ll have copies on site. They’ve taken the facility four times over the years. Never took it back, just managed to wipe out my garrisons or bypass them. They never took the children out. They were massacred.”

This confused Wil. He raised a hand as if he were in class, and Yerra grinned at him, and he turned red.

“Pardon me, Professor, but why did you allow it? You beat Jungle Tails. The fact that they had special agents or forces—now after they’ve rebuilt, I understand, but why…?”

Why didn’t you curtail them before now? It seemed like a glaring weakness, but Niers just glanced up and smiled bleakly.

“Holding territory when you’re unwanted and the native populations are against you isn’t ever easy, Wil. They always fight back. You can either try to kill them all or tamp down on all the fires being started. But inevitably, they organize and gather their strength. Unless you murder every last one of them, all the children, burn down their homes, salt the earth—”

He wore a terrible expression then. One of understanding, and he turned it on Wil.

“I did not. I won many Lizardfolk over, but never the majority. And Wil. When you study this, look to Terandrian colonies. Your kingdoms never learn. The latest ones you lost were in Chandrar. You’ve had them on other continents. One could argue the King of Destruction was a direct result of the last time your people held ground. So no, I didn’t crush all of Jungle Tails. It’s hard. Hard to shoot down a hundred thousand Lizardfolk civilians forming a living wall between them and their temples.”

He shook his head.

“—Besides, if I’d done that, every single one of them would have started fighting again. Jungle Tails was an adversary best left beaten, not forced into a corner. I thought I’d have more time. Oelnnox…that was just a way of keeping them from making their resurgence sooner.”

Niers was thumbing through the journal absently. Remembering. He wiped his hand on his jacket a few times. Grimaced despite the good wine.

“Where was I? Ah, yes. They’d kill Jungle Tails, even now. You’ll have a shot if you fly my flags; the ones who hold the upper levels will trust you a bit more. But I am allowing you to go there because Erin wants to see it. It’s a test of her, and frankly, it might solve the issue of the facility. I know Jungle Tails will come back. The last thing I need is for them to somehow take command of the kids.”

“So we’re going to try to ally with them? Persuade them, sir? Or ensure no one takes the facility?”

“I don’t know, Wil. Investigate. See what Erin does. See what Geneva does. Whatever your conclusion, I will analyze and judge in fairness. Even if you have to raze the entire place and salt the earth. I know what I should have done, but I can’t do it.”

The [Lord] of the Hundred Families of Terandria did not like being told that in the same breath as ‘children’. Yerranola, though, just glanced at Niers.

“Professor, what do you mean by ‘should have done’? You mean let them out? Or…or given them mercy?”

“Yerra!”

Niers glanced at her, and his lips quirked in amusement.

“Oh, no, Yerra. Those two options would be disastrous for Baleros’ citizens, or Foliana would kill me. I think literally kill me. No, I know exactly what to do with Oelnnox. I just…can’t.”

He sloshed the wine around in his cup and sighed as the two [Strategists] leaned forwards. He hated this. But because they had to grow up, because they were his best students, the Titan removed a bit of that lovely mask he wore. The Professor they loved looked up and spoke softly.

“It would be so easy to do it. The optimal move is to let them out. Arm them. Point them at Jungle Tails and just let them loose. A single [Long Range Teleport] spell and you have a distraction that will bleed Jungle Tails of resources and attention for…well, if some of them could even be killed. Even if not Jungle Tails, they’d make excellent irregulars. They aren’t beyond that, some of them.”

He drummed his hands on the table, thinking of the Selphids who’d quit his forces.

“Better yet, they have nowhere to go. Small chance the other Great Companies would be able to buy their loyalty easily. That’s why it’s so hard. You see? It’s always tempting to do. I’ve thought about it so many times. Everyone loves to have a secret weapon. Everyone has blackbook operations, experiments, failsafes. But morality says no, don’t do the expedient thing. Don’t run down the retreating forces. Don’t make examples. Don’t use every weapon that comes to hand.”

Wil was growing increasingly disturbed.

“Professor, I…I’m glad that you haven’t repeated Jungle Tails’ folly. If there is a solution, we’ll find—”

“What? Folly? Oelnnox wasn’t a failure, Wil. It was a success. True, they made stupid errors, but it was a tremendous asset.”

Niers interrupted, and now his eyes were gleaming. This time, even Yerra seemed disconcerted as the two [Students] sat back.

“But, sir, you said that the facility was lost. The children—”

“Jungle Tails took some out. Only, what, twenty, thirty? They put about a thousand times that number in there. Before you gasp, Wil, the Lizardfolk are the most prolific species in Baleros—so long as they can support their offspring—bar none. So let’s call that around two decades of research, material, supplies, thirty thousand children, for thirty kids. It was worth it.”

“What happened to the children they took out?”

Niers flicked a report over the desk at them. He realized it was too small for them and smiled crookedly.

“Most of them perished fighting for Jungle Tails. A few of them you’d know. One of them is going up against Calanfer and the Iron Vanguard now, actually. Illex Twiceborn is an alumnus of Oelnnox.”

Yerranola did know that name and inhaled. Wil was brushing at his arms. Niers whispered.

“Do you know how hard it is to get someone who’s Level 40 or has the potential to rise higher? It was worth it just for the alumni. Now understand that Illex was just a kid down there. There’s far bigger fish than him swimming in the depths of Oelnnox.”

“Then why not make use of them, Professor? If this is the situation you’ve been handed, wouldn’t it be better on all sides to offer them positions in Forgotten Wing?”

Wil tried one last time, searching for some reason in this. He glanced at the Titan’s face as the candlelight flickered over the Fraerling’s expression. Niers was blank as he raised a goblet to his features.

“I could lie to you, but the truth is they were conditioned to hate my company. I could use some…but it’s the weapon, Wil. Sometimes you don’t reach for the weapon, because that’s the only reason you’re still better than they are.”

He swished his wine around in his cup, talking to himself.

“The problem, yes the problem with making living weapons is that they inevitably ask ‘why’ at some point. They always demand freedom. Such a dire weak point no one ever seems willing to engage with when someone says, ‘let’s make an army of child-soldiers’. They must think it’ll work out.”

He laughed, and no one joined in. Niers flicked his eyes to Wil and Yerra.

“There’s no controlling them, not perfectly. Some of the children got out, despite my best efforts. Do your homework. Now, I’ll leave you with that.”

They stood, awkward and uncertain. Rattled. Yerranola paused by the door and called back once as Niers sat there, staring at the shadows.

“Professor, what’s the ideal outcome for you? If you got all your wishes?”

Niers glanced up. He blinked at her, then thought for a moment before replying.

“Best outcome, Yerra? Good question. Fair question. I suppose…on the way into the facility, Wil trips on a Scroll of Time Travel. If you find it, I have a letter I’d love to send back with you. Top shelf on that cabinet, behind the third book.”

He pointed without looking, and Yerranola waited. Niers waved at her.

“Good night, Yerra.”

The door closed. After a moment, Seneschal Atmodeca came by with a second bottle.

“Stewing in darkness, commander? Or light?”

“Stewing, Atmodeca, thank you. Oh, and please put away the valuables.”

She bustled around the table a few seconds, then left him alone. Niers poured himself another cup and went back to work, organizing the front into the Dyed Lands. He was waiting, but rather suspected…

It was hours into the morning, in fact, before his second guest burst into the room. Niers jerked from the chair where he’d put his legs up on the table to sleep. He glanced up as a huge, furry face appeared in front of him.

“You sent them to Oelnnox?”

For once, Foliana wasn’t playing her disappearing game. Nor was she calm. Her eyes were wide, and the three colors in them were bright, illuminating his room.

“Hello, Foliana—”

She grabbed him with one paw, lifted him up. Niers didn’t struggle, though normally he would have poked her with his sword for that kind of thing. He had a terribly dry mouth from drinking.

“Atmodeca, any water around?”

The seneschal opened the door.

Foliana’s head swung around to stare at the Beastkin.

The door closed. Niers sighed. Foliana hissed at him.

“You sent them to—”

“Yes, I did. You had your shots, Foliana, and I won’t do what I want to. They found out, anyways; some idiot parent found Miss Erin on the road, and Geneva’s been poking around our files. They want to see.”

“Call them back.”

They must have just left. Niers yawned and noted daylight through the cracks in the blinds of his windows. He shook his head.

“No.”

“They’re going to kill—they are children.”

“Not anymore, Foliana. Even the youngest must be—”

She slapped him back on the desk and glared at him. Niers caught himself, unsteady, as her head lowered to eye-level with him.

“You have to—I’m going with—”

“We’re fighting a war, Foliana. So are you. Trust the Winter Sprites. Trust Ryoka Griffin and to luck. Trust Erin or our Last Light. And if you don’t trust any of that to be enough for Oelnnox…”

Niers wobbled over to his wine bottle and tried to pour, but it was empty. He sighed, cursed, and looked around for some water instead.

“…they’ve kept the lid on themselves for all this time. Well, it’s getting raised either way, Foliana. Jungle Tails will make a play for that facility. Time’s up. They have to choose. I’m sorry.”

She vanished. He called after her back before the door to his rooms could swing open.

“Go with them and you’ll get our people killed while you waste time, and you’ll just bring them to ruin. They know you. They don’t know Erin, Geneva, or Ryoka.”

He didn’t hear a reply, but after a moment, someone opened the door and slammed it so hard the sound reverberated down the corridor. After a few more seconds, Atmodeca cautiously entered with a pitcher of water. Niers grimaced as he sat back in his chair.

“Well, that’s that, then. Atmodeca, I want a constant [Scrying] spell on Oelnnox activated in two day’s time. The moment you get a missive from Wil, make it second-highest priority and flag to me immediately.”

“Yes, Lord Astoragon.”

He searched around for a hat. Time to get back to war. The Titan turned and put Oelnnox from his mind. It was just one place, and each passing hour he had to make decisions that would save or damn tens of thousands of lives.

Besides. Maybe he was getting old, but there were just some dungeons a Named-rank adventurer didn’t want to enter. He was no adventurer anymore. The Titan closed his eyes for a moment and sat back in his chair.

A moment later, a little alarm rang as Atmodeca shook the bell that told him he should be waking up. He groaned and stretched.

The Titan of Baleros stood up and got to work.

——

Good [Strategists] never drank before a battle. Just like good [Warriors] or adventurers didn’t have a tumble in the sheets before a dangerous engagement. Your mind or body had to be sharp, and especially as you aged, liquor had a deleterious effect on your capacities, even a day later.

Niers Astoragon hadn’t slept well on top of his mild hangover. He chugged a stamina potion, a hangover tonic, and a cup of coffee without sugar in ten seconds as Atmodeca offered him a platter.

Do as I say, not as I do. The Professor was well aware of what the optimal move was. However, he was no Golem.

It was true that a good [Strategist] shouldn’t drink before doing their duty with thousands of lives on the line. But [Soldiers]? Soldiers hopped into bed before a battle. They were famous for it.

That was the difference between Niers and a clean-cut [Strategist] from, say, Manus’ academies or the war-academies in Terandria’s Taimaguros Dominion. He was Baleros’ child.

Mercenary. It ran in his blood. So yes, he regretted the second bottle of wine. He regretted not getting more sleep, and his mind ran to Oelnnox, the place he had sent Geneva, ‘Erin’, Ryoka, and the others.

Then he pushed it from his thoughts as he strode up into the Fraerways and was mildly shocked, as ever, to find two Tallguard guarding his rooms.

“Lord Astoragon.”

One nodded to him, and Niers nodded back. Fraerlings were already moving about the Fraerways, bustling about. [Mages] carting samples of monsters from the Dyed Lands past off-duty Tallguard and soldiers from their cities, who eyed him, the most famous Fraerling in the entire world. Disappointed, perhaps, he wasn’t a foot tall and breathing fire with eyes like General Diomedes, the Cyclops.

Niers ignored the looks and strode forward, speaking into a stone.

“Strategist Vler, I’m awake and moderately alive. Are we ready?”

“Your special class students are assembled, though I note Wil and Yerranola are with their group, sir. I have your Skerhawk ready, and your route has been announced. May I suggest a teleportation spell—again?”

“I’m allergic to teleportation after Izril. Begin in, let’s say, thirty-five. Iuncuta Eirnos! My compliments.”

He switched off the speaking stone and saw the one-eyed Fraerling commander striding his way. She was scowling as per usual.

“Lord Astoragon, I was informed we would not be joining you while moving towards the Dyed Lands. Why?”

The Fraerlings were ready to go with flying ‘steeds’ of their own—everything from little robin-sized birds to a damn albatross that could carry Rozcal and his Crelerbane armor to the front. They normally flew stealthily, and she clearly did not like being kept out of the loop, but she was one force in the Forgotten Wing. For all their technology, levels, the Fraerlings were only in force in Elvallian, the capital.

Niers knew how many armies he had pulled towards the Dyed Lands, still spitting waves of color in every direction. A hundred miles of land had been overrun by them, and four Great Companies were barely keeping them contained.

Iron Vanguard and Maelstrom’s Howling held the north. Forgotten Wing held the east, and the western front was mostly being fought by Jungle Tails. The Eyes of Baleros, the Gazer-led company, was also defending their jungles, but what the scope of the war was, not even Niers could fully say.

But it was Jungle Tails and Forgotten Wing, who were both at war with each other and the monsters, that had the most forces here.

This was their land. Theoretically, their problem alone, but the other two groups, Centaurs and Dullahans, weren’t going to miss the glory or rewards from these new monsters. But until today, the Forgotten Wing hadn’t made a push as dramatic as the Bannermare in halting this apocalyptic event.

Moving people took time. Moving large numbers of people took weeks or months, even with the trade roads and organization. Moving one person, like the Fraerlings?

That was so easy. Niers replied absently as he strode down towards one of his assembly halls.

“No, Iuncuta. I do invite you to beat me to our destination, but for security reasons, I travel alone.”

“I see. And the Tallguard would not be ample bodyguards compared to your Tallfolk escort?”

He sighed but hid it as they strode along.

“It’s not a competition, Iuncuta.”

“Of course not.”

“Plus, I’m not taking any. Students! The hour has come.”

Niers burst out of the doors leading into his assembly hall, and they jumped. He strode down the steps in his frumpled red coat, adjusting the hat on his head, red-eyed, though they probably couldn’t see that.

They, by contrast, had polished up. Marian wore metal barding on her Centaur half and armor on her Human torso. Venaz was in full plate, as was Merrik. Peki had donned the clothing of Pomle. Kissilt, Jekilt, and Cameral weren’t present, but that was because they were already en-route.

Of course, he had more students, but they weren’t ready for this. Plenty of younger students like Princess Angelica and Xelic were jostling to see. They expected a speech, but Niers just strode onto the pedestal and spoke distractedly.

“Vler. Who’s the [Strategist] commanding the frontline defense on the eastern approach today?”

“That would be…Lizvek, sir.”

“Lizvek. Damn. We’re going to get on like a Stitch-folk on fire. Has that control freak figured out a viable strategy against any of the colors?”

“He does quite well against the black monsters, which I believe is the current color on the eastern front.”

“Well, we’ll see. Right. Students—”

Niers glanced up, and they were unsettled. The Professor sometimes swore, but he was usually more put-together. Teacherish, professional. The loudness spell audibly picked up his stomach growling. Without a word, Eirnos handed Niers a rations bar, and he took one bite and grimaced.

“Dead gods. What in Rhir’s hells is this, Eirnos? Cricket?”

“Tallguard staple, Niers.”

He shuddered.

“Good to know even among our people, travel food tastes like horse leavings. Right, students. I am heading to the Dyed Lands. This is the beginning of the Forgotten Wing’s push back against the monsters. Frankly, strategically, I would have preferred to have taken the fight to them over a month ago. We would have done just that, but the war with Jungle Tails means that entire armies have to combat them. The realities of a multi-front war. You recall my lectures about how fun it is to fight multiple foes at once?”

“Yes, sir. Uh, don’t do it?”

That came from Umina, and there was scattered laughter. Nervous—Venaz shifted, and Niers eyed his greatsword, the green diamond sword, a Relic-class blade. He nodded at it.

“Well, that’s reality. The King of Destruction can relate. With that said, I have an announcement. Today, the lessons end. I am going to be calling on all my students assigned to frontline duty to act as [Strategists]. You aren’t graduated, but you’re ready. If you’re not, we will find out, but this isn’t class. That doesn’t mean you stop learning. But what you are going to learn, what I trust you to observe is…”

He paused, closing his eyes and thinking, and the analogy came to him at once. Something he’d been chewing on of late.

“The difference for many of you is that you come from nations with rulers. Even if they’re not monarchs, be it a Walled City or anywhere else—you have men and women who rule. They do not always lead. Whether or not they inspire…I hope you will analyze the difference in my conduct. If you don’t understand the difference between those words, find a dictionary. I will see you at the city of Illgrem when you arrive. Marian, take lead with Venaz and move yourself at all reasonable speed.”

That was it. No precise instructions, no hand-holding. Get to where you need to be and report in. There was a terror to vagueness, to having to do things yourselves, but his instincts to hold their hands and coddle them—no, he’d trained them better than that.

Terror was replaced by confidence—or at least, the ability to master terror—on his students’ faces. Niers turned, then had a thought.

“Felk.”

The Drake [Teacher], who would be taking over the younger classes with Perorn and Niers absent, glanced up as Niers spun on his heel.

“Niers?”

“Have your classes calculate just how much gold I’m spending today. It should be eye-opening.”

That was it. The Fraerling finished adjusting his coat, washed down the gritty cricket-bar with some water from a flask, and turned on his heel. He left the Professor behind him as he strode back into the Fraerways. Then the Titan of Baleros was jogging to make it up to the landing pads to keep his schedule. The students muttered, then heard and saw him depart Elvallian for the front.

All of Baleros did, if they cared to look. Scrying spells—though this was not interesting news that would make the likes of Lord Molen race to watch—there were eyes on him, because he was one of the most important beings in Baleros. And because he told them he was coming.

——

A hawk flew from Elvallian’s landing pads, carrying the Fraerling in the air. He sat in a custom-made saddle that actually had gravity spells and a damn desk; he was writing orders on the fly, organizing his forces. Below him, the city became smaller, and he flew in a straight line from here to his destination.

Over the trade roads moving with people, the jungles buzzing to life, a single hawk—albeit one not native to Baleros—soaring towards the Dyed Lands.

But they looked up. People halted on the roads and pointed. Scrying spells covered the road ahead since they could not lock onto him, and entire cities glanced at the tiny figure they could barely see.

The Titan of Baleros’ shadow fell over them, and he passed, too tiny but felt. He did not restrain his aura. Yet how did they know in advance he was coming?

He told them.

“The, uh, Titan of Baleros is heading for the Dyed Lands in person, which indicates to me that we may be seeing a full push from the Forgotten Wing company against these monsters. Our coverage has mostly focused on the New Lands, but I suppose it’s all land, all the time these days, eh, Sir Relz?”

“Er, yes, ha-ha, Noass. It’s rather economical as travel-plans go. My, just look at that. A straight line from here to…”

Wistram News Network on the side of the desk. Niers glanced at a tiny image of himself and a map where a red line was marking his route. The two Drakes were staring at it, running idle commentary.

“Must be a slow news day.”

Perhaps it fascinated royalty of other nations more than Balerosians. Niers was by himself. No bodyguards, big or small. Heading over terrain his company held or independent zones towards the front. With Jungle Tails at war with him? After his last assassination attempt?

Yes and yes. Vler was right that there were easier, faster ways to do this, though this was quick enough. But you did this the suboptimal way because you made a point.

The Titan flew, and no spell materialized out of the air to burn his hawk out of the skies. No rain of magical arrows. No curse.

There was a flicker of magic to the left. Niers glanced up as Vler chirped in his earpiece.

“That’s six so far, Niers.”

“Mhm. I’m putting together an army from our units. Forwarding.”

“Ooh. A full board of pieces?”

“Yep. Have Skeldriv’s Lizardfolk be the vanguard and put Venaz with the Axes.”

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that. Should I attach Marian to Jirem’s group? She’d benefit from watching him work.”

“No on Marian unless you can’t find another spot for her. She’s not going to be an asset for Jirem. Double provisions for Jirem. I’m going to want to see the front in person for a day or two. Foliana should be around. When she deigns to pop up, have the Named-rankers meet with her. If she likes them, we’re good. If not, find Gold-rankers or a team. Oh, and Iuncuta’s forces are coming by. Put them with the full-board army.”

Niers was writing it all down, of course, but this was important…he rubbed at his forehead.

“Damn hangovers. Wait…I need a [Druid].”

“Ours or just one…?”

“Ugh. Get me one that’s not hugging trees, will you? I don’t care from where. I can wait a few days on that. More orders to come.”

Another flare of light on his left side. This time, Niers turned his head. The Skerhawk made an unsettled sound.

“That felt like a big one.”

Niers watched idly and heard the two Drakes on the scrying orb exclaim after a few minutes.

“Another one. Let’s see! This is rather uncanny, Sir Relz. Do you think that’s really all hostile magic?”

“We have to take them at their word, I suppose. We are asking Wistram to confirm…aha.”

Sir Relz adjusted his monocles.

“It says to our viewers, ‘[Ray of Incineration] neutralized by Magus Gribbles. Sender: Jungle Tails’. Ancestors. Isn’t that Tier 5 magic?”

Niers snorted.

“Magus Gribbles.”

He was distracted for a full five minutes looking up if they had a ‘Magus Gribbles’ on record. Sometimes the [Mages] got cute. More writing appeared in the air of a similar nature.

‘[Rain of Light Arrows] neutralized by Shaman Zibs. Hey, Mom and Dad! Sent by King of Destruction?’

‘Curse from somewhere in Rhir, deflected by [Witch] Coven Neilvek. Buy our charms.’

That was why people watched, of course. Show of, if not force, then authority. Here I am, flying. Shoot me down if you can. And if you can’t, then everyone knows that the Forgotten Wing company goes where it wants.

That was what his company had lost after Jungle Tails, Niers felt. A bit of the authority, the reputation that made them a Great Company of Baleros. It was a reflection on him; his reputation suffered, and everyone started saying, ‘this is it, they’re finished’.

His job was to remind them, each and every time, that this was just their willful imaginations. He won and lost and had come this far. Now, he had another war to win.

Two. For once, Niers would have rather had some peace, to find the real Erin, to deal with the other events in this world. But he had to own…the Dyed Lands?

He smiled. The Fraerling leaned forwards in his seat, staring ahead where he fancied he could see the whirling shades of color, like a hurricane, spiraling outwards from the center of the original Dyed Lands. Beautiful calamity. It called to him. It sounded like death and danger for so many. It sounded like fun.

He liked killing monsters.

——

Now, if you were a grunt, a real [Mercenary], even one in service to Forgotten Wing, you weren’t celebrating when you got an order to form up and roll over to the front.

In fact, when Illgrem was listed as the rendezvous point, the entire regiment of Skeldriv groaned or cheered. They were Lizardfolk predominantly; they didn’t just take Lizardfolk, as one of their [Captains] proved, but you tended to get mostly your species as volunteers.

Lizardfolk and Nagas, actually. More than one Medusa hailed from Skeldriv, having evolved during the course of fighting. It was a prestigious regiment; they weren’t some mucktails from the boonies with slings and cheap iron spears, no.

Their Lizardfolk wore armor, swaggered around with Minotaurs three feet taller than they were, and had the levels and experience to match. They were a good company, and their mixed reactions to the new front were, well, joy and dismay.

Dismay because you might die, because fighting these new monsters was gonna suck. Joy because this meant combat pay. And if the Titan was leading them or they were going to do hard stuff, the gold flowed.

And they loooved gold. Gold meant you were paying for your family, who was nagging you. Gold meant you were patching your armor or getting that enchanted weapon. Gold paid for those kids that definitely weren’t yours, or maybe they were, you’d been drunk. And maybe, if you were lucky, you had some actual gold saved up for when you were going to retire, which was ‘someday—why are you getting on my tail about this?’.

Gold made the wine flow. So, Skeldriv began to mobilize with fairly good speed. Mostly, it was grabbing all the soldiers out of the bars, doing a headcount, cleaning up so the next unit and the Forgotten Wing company didn’t shout at you for making a mess. They’d been posted in a city near-ish to the Dyed Lands front, on holiday after going up against Jungle Tails for two months.

That had been unpleasant. Partly because sometimes you fought and won or lost, but on the way out there was always one Lizardfolk who it turned out was actually Jungle Tails and had run after your group, thinking you were on the same side.

Poor idiots. Then you got called ‘traitor’ for not following the real Nagas, and so on and so forth. Skeldriv was with Forgotten Wing. The Titan paid better than the Nagas. They liked him. He won battles. That was all there was to it. If someone wanted to be an egghead about species and culture, they could head out, and, well, they’d better hope they never ran into the Titan’s strategies.

Skeldriv weren’t full-on dedicated yet, though. Just mercs. They had been offered three times to ‘headquarter’ a city. That was like how the Featherfolk Brigade had owned Talenqual, only it was under Forgotten Wing. You drew your recruits from that city, sort of became their law enforcement, protectors, and drew a portion of their revenues all at once. You still gave a lot to Forgotten Wing, but it made you established.

They’d voted on it, but each time Skeldriv had felt like it was just too much work, you know? They liked to roam. Headquartering meant you had to defend the city if trouble came. Maybe if they found the right city that was rich or well-placed enough…somewhere with a lovely beach. Talenqual would be awesome if the Fraerlings liked them.

“Who’re we fighting with, Plaxima?”

A Medusa named Eyevil was slithering around to find a fellow [Captain] still lazing in his tents who hadn’t heard the muster. She was new to her form, having evolved last year. Being a Medusa was awesome; she had snakes for ‘hair’, and she could sort of smell and taste what they did. She had eye-powers and respect…but everyone teased her about the name. Sometimes you took a new name to symbolize how you left your childish ways behind, and she’d panicked and—

Eyevil couldn’t go a week without some new recruit hearing her name and laughing their tail off. A Gorgon slithering next to her, another woman with six arms and a lot more height and mass, grunted.

“Sounds like Jirem’s Hooves are with us. I heard a claim that we were going to march with the Closedhelms and Shoreaxes. Plus, someone saw a flight of Garuda and Drakes coming in.”

Eyevil’s own magical eyes widened. She knew what that meant.

“Oh Nagas, that means we’re probably going to spearhead the attack? At least we’ve got serious help! Does that mean we won’t have to serve under Lizvek? I heard he was in command and—”

Neither one wanted to work under the punctilious, picky [Strategist]. Their regiment didn’t do perfect deployments and could fudge orders by accident, which Lizvek hated. The Gorgon grinned with all her sharp teeth.

“Sounds like it, Eyevy.”

“Balsamic is going to throw a fit.”

“When does he not?”

Plaxima halted outside of the tent where a loud snore was emanating from. Eyevil slapped the tent flaps once and entered; she had little concern about her fellow [Captain]’s modesty. You saw a lot in any merc company.

‘Balsamic’—or Balsam, his actual name—was another well-known [Captain] in the regiment for two reasons. The first was that his nickname was hilarious and everyone called him that. He had good humor about it, though, which was why he survived among the Lizardfolk.

Oh, and the second reason he was memorable was because he was a Drake. Eyevil eyed his ruby-red scales and rather impressive form as he jerked upright.

“Who the—oh hello, Eyevil. Took me up on my offer?”

He reached for a weapon, then tried to pose in his tangled sheets, clearly thinking he was getting lucky. Eyevil rolled her eyes as the Gorgon, Plaxima, slithered into the tent and snorted.

“In your dreams, Balsamic.”

“Two ladies at once? I can—aw, damnit, we’re being mobilized.”

Balsamic groaned as he realized what was going on. Eyevil snorted. Both she and Plaxima eyed his crotch for a moment, and not for the reasons he was hoping. Plaxima literally slithered back out of the tent as he swung out of bed. He tried to flirt with Plaxima, but she was already gone.

“We’re moving in fifteen! Get Vinegar company ready, Balsamic!”

Yes, his company was named Vinegar because they had to be. Balsamic was tugging on his clothing and hunting for boots.

“Where are we headed?”

Eyevil saw no reason to lie.

“Dyed Lands. Looks like the Titan himself might take command of us.”

She knew his face was going to fall and his eyes scrunch up. The Drake began kicking his articles of clothing around, swearing.

“That bastard! Argh. The Dyed Lands? Really?”

He was not enthusiastic when it came to risking his life, but he’d fight well. Eyevil shrugged and squinted at something. She petrified a roach.

“Dead gods, Balsamic, your tent is filthy.”

“Hey, it probably just snuck in here. Believe me, my sheets are clean as can be. I really thought you were…fancy a drink before we go into combat?”

He was flirting with her, but then, Balsamic flirted with any woman he met. Lizardfolk, Centaur, Dullahan, Human—he was the most open-minded Drake she’d ever met; not that their kind came to Baleros often. Eyevil snorted.

“You have as much chance with me as Plaxima.”

“So can I buy you both drinks or…?”

“Zero, Balsamic.”

He cursed as he struggled to put some boots on; he was going to be ready in ten despite his cluttered tent.

“Really? Why? I was doing great, and now you’re all giving me the cold tail!”

He didn’t know? Eyevil hesitated at the entrance to his tent. Last year, she would have just slithered in and helped him pick up or lain on his bed, but—she sighed.

“Balsam, you idiot. No one wants to sleep with you, even if you’re fun and don’t take things seriously, because everyone knows you’ve been hitting the brothels nonstop every time we get paid.”

He looked affronted.

“So? I don’t have kids running about. I’m very anti-kid. Everyone knows that.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“Balsam…you did it all last year. During the Yellow Rivers thing? Plaxima herself saw you walking out of a brothel twice when it was at its worst.”

He hesitated. Seemed confused, then groaned.

“Oh—”

“Everyone thinks you’re dripping with the stuff!”

“Hey! I’m clean as can be! Plus, there’s a cure!”

“No one wants to sleep with someone who had it, even if there’s a cure.”

Dismayed, the Drake began tossing his possessions into a trunk.

“No, no, wait, Eyevil, this is a huge mistake! I’m clean! I’m pristine. I’m not sick; I never get sick!”

“Sure, I’ve heard that one before.”

Every [Mercenary] said that, but the Drake was yanking on his trousers.

“Wait, it’s true! Take a look!”

“I don’t want to—sometimes you can’t see. Look, I believe you, but you have to realize it was stupid.”

The Drake spread his claws as he followed the Medusa out of the tent.

“I’m not infected! I swear! I’ll get a [Healer] to give me a clean bill of health!”

She just shook her head as she slithered off to find her company, and he screamed after her to the amusement of every Lizardfolk in earshot. Seriously. Everyone in the company had heard the Titan’s warning, but only one idiot had kept visiting the brothels even when everyone knew it was bad.

But that was Balsamic, their idiot Drake. They loved him, but…she’d tell Plaxima he was getting a [Healer] to vouch for him. He was right that he never got sick, and he fought like a Demon, but dead gods.

——

Niers Astoragon’s mind was finally working when he saw the huge mass of tinted air ahead of him, and the Skerhawk began to slow, cawing warily. The ‘black’ color was moving across the land like a wave of dust, though it was really a manifestation of all the animals and monsters dyed that one color.

Each color had a power, and they seemed to be territorial and work together. Despite having radically different shapes, no monster from the same color hunted the other. It was like the ultimate team; they fought anything not of their color, and they moved in huge waves, spiralling out from the Dyed Lands. The only reason these monsters hadn’t rampaged further was because each color seemed to be fighting each other as much as the armies trying to hem them in.

But it was a difficult, wide battlefront. How did you stop literal swarms of creatures? Well, Niers had watched the Bannermare, Aria Fellstrider, and her people stopping the green when Ryoka ran her scouting mission.

Magic, thousands of soldiers, and fire. Lots of fire. Even now, he could see smoke rising from the front, past what looked like a thick line of defenses.

Lizvek’s work. It seemed like there was a lull in fighting; monster corpses were being hacked up and carted off or burned, along with the ground.

That was the thing. The Dyed Lands stained the ecosystems they passed through. Where a wave of green went, they’d leave plants, even the earth, tainted by their passage. Whether or not it made more beings like them, no company wanted to find out. They had to literally scorch the grounds before advancing.

Still—the waves had been held here. Lizvek was just one of the top-commanders positioned on the front lines. Though he…

He and Niers were not buddies. Lizvek was, like many, a graduate from Niers’ academy, but Niers had never gotten along with the man. The Stitch-folk with a pair of glasses and a clipboard was a [Strategist]’s strategist. Even now, he was just strutting along the command tent.

“Sector 5b is running at 7/10th’s ammunition. [Restore Supplies]! Have a runner go to Section 6b, 2b, and 3b with exact quarrel replacements each!”

As in, don’t just send 500 sheaves of bolts each, send exactly enough so that they all had the same amounts. Niers rolled his eyes as his hawk landed. No one sent a crowd to greet him, though some soldiers did cheer—they had a job to do.

“Lizvek, good work on the front! Beautiful defensive lines as always. Can you apprise—”

Lizvek held up a hand and stared at something in his head. His Skill, which let him monitor his entire battlefield, was telling him something he didn’t like. He whirled and shouted.

“Sector 6b has nine hundred and ninety-eight units of ammunition! Send two more, you idiots!”

—And there was the problem. Niers kept his face straight as junior [Tacticians] went running to effect this meaningless change. It wasn’t Lizvek’s fault—okay, he could try harder.

He just…had a quirk. He liked round numbers. He liked having all his ducks in a row—in fact, he insisted they be in neat squares, and Giants help you if you were off. His formations were symmetrical, and he insisted his troops adhere to this organized routine.

Most companies hated him. Niers himself didn’t get along with Lizvek, but after a moment of enraged breathing, someone spoke.

“Strategist, two units being sent to Sector 6b at once.”

“There. Thank you, Strategist—”

“Cameral, sir.”

The Dullahan’s head spoke from a table, and Lizvek gave him a grudging nod. Then, and only then, did he address Niers without so much as a hello.

“At least one of your new [Strategists] can work properly. I don’t like this assignment, Niers. I’ll be glad to rotate somewhere I have to stop adapting.”

Niers grunted, and he didn’t speak like the Professor as Cameral stood there respectfully. He spoke like the Titan: direct, even casual with subordinates.

“Tough. You were the only person for the job, and you’ve done well against—what are we calling this? ‘Black?’”

Lizvek shrugged.

“The soldiers have all kinds of nicknames. I go by color. I can handle the Stygian monsters, but we’ve had hints of the next color—Azure. I don’t—like—them. My formations cannot hold them.”

Yep, he was stressed. Niers pointed at Lizvek as he beckoned.

“Reports. Let me see what the front looks like. I have a full-board army coming to push the front, Lizvek, and you can fall back in a few days. I like ‘Stygian’. Let’s go with that. Good thing you weren’t up against, uh…Chartreuse?”

“More like Jade-green. And yes, I would not have enjoyed them. I’m surprised Fellstrider handled them. But then, she had an Archmage.”

Now that he was on the front, Niers’ mind was working. He saw a classic killbox in front of him; it was wide, since the monsters would come from a lot of angles, but Lizvek had chosen his ideal spot for an engagement: some natural hills he had turned into a pass.

Control the terrain. He’d done classic Lizvek things, like putting trap spells on the tops of the hills to encourage monsters to stream down the pass. Then he’d, well, made everything as deadly and inhospitable to a charging monster as could be.

Trenches of soldiers waiting to stop an attack. Barricades of spiked metal above and around, and the checkerboard formation of troops, many armed with crossbows or spellcaster units, each one able to pick a different target and fire.

Lizvek had even had a hill made and terraces built for each sector at regular intervals, so their lines of fire wouldn’t overlap. It was the kind of defensive fortification he specialized in, and it would make any ordinary force take one look at his setup and go anywhere else but down the front.

Good thing he was up against monsters. Niers heard a rumbling from up ahead, and Lizvek cursed.

“They’re early. Have you seen the Dyed Land monsters yet, Niers?”

“Only a few, no mass combat on the level you’ve seen.”

“Then you have your chance. Purification and barrier spells up on the front! Sectors ready!”

He shouted, and a series of speaking stones he’d arranged in front of him lit up, each one indicating a unit. Niers saw the cloud of stygian darkness ahead of him shift. He narrowed his eyes.

“It’s been a while since I saw a monster horde.”

They came by the thousands. Not all of them large—most of the Stygian black were actually smaller than the other colors. Many had long, furtive forms—he saw a distinctly long-nosed creature with huge, black feathery fronds around it burst out of the darkness and shuffle forwards.

It looked like an unsettling bush, though he imagined it was completely disadvantaged in the light. In its color, it would be a nigh-invisible hunter. But it moved, and the darkness seemed to come with it.

A swarm of scuttling rats, running too high off the ground with long legs, but very much like the rats he knew, racing under a cow-sized balloon that just…floated overhead. Huge, circular pores on their body oozing sludge out in rivulets of filth.

Niers knew what this color was. Sure enough, the first creature he’d seen spat something from its long nose or proboscis.

Poison. The globules began hitting walls as the wave of monsters unleashed toxins. Lizvek’s mouth curled, and Cameral wiped his hands on his armor as he spoke.

“Mid-sized wave, Strategist Lizvek.”

“Yes. More floaters than before. That one—that’s a big-sized monster, Niers. I’d call it Gold or Named-rank, depending on how deadly its poison is.”

Lizvek was pointing at one of the largest creatures, a lumbering turtle-thing—if you melted the turtle’s face off and just left some huge jaws that opened and closed. Oh, and you put a kind of stinger’s tail on the back of the turtle’s shell that fired huge globs of poison upwards. They tried to spread out, and Niers imagined this thing could poison an entire battlefield given only a few minutes.

The nastiest monsters I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot. The Dyed Lands. Hundreds of years of time flashed by, and they just fought each other, getting stronger and stronger. Great.

Still, Lizvek had been here long enough to do what he did best. He spoke crisply.

“Incoming. Seal the trenches. [Aerial Barrier] spells—now.”

[Mages] began to cast, and the globules being spat upwards burst in the air and showered down over the oncoming monsters before they could reach the trenches. In the meantime, the poison being spat ahead of the monsters hadn’t yet reached the soldiers. They were just coming into range of the crossbows when the true power of Lizvek became clear.

“[Mark Target]. Sector 1b, fire. [Mark Target]. Sector 2b, fire. Sector 3-5b, fire. Sector 6b, fire—”

He stopped shouting his Skill after a moment, but Niers saw targets begin glowing and then being mowed down by hails of crossbow bolts. Each unit Lizvek shouted would aim at his target, loose, then reload as more volleys shot from the defensive lines.

Cameral was speaking with lesser [Strategists]. Niers heard the Dullahan’s voice shaking, but it was steady enough.

“[Mark Target]. Sector 1c, [Lightning Bolts]. Sector 2c, [Light Arrows] on…”

Not everyone had Lizvek’s Skills. The [Strategist] had [Unlimited Mark Target], which Niers personally had never needed. Regardless, it was working.

Rank after rank of his forces fired, then reloaded, slapping bolts into their crossbows. Lizvek loved crossbows. The Forgotten Wing company used them a lot; they were quite dangerous in the hands of even an amateur, and you could standardize them instead of needing to have [Bowyers] carve each one.

Even so, despite the withering hail cutting down the relatively-fragile stygian horde, they just…kept…coming. Trampling over each others’ bodies, leaking black poison—Niers was sure Lizvek didn’t want them to get to the front trenches.

He had troops there, but he hated the unpredictability of a melee. All these qualities meant he was a bad general [Strategist], but he’d turned his personality traits into his greatest asset. Arguably enhanced his problem, but that was how it worked.

More big artillery-turtles were coming along with huge, two-legged creeping monsters. Seven feet tall and with huge bulbous heads and claw-hands folded up to their chests.

They strode forwards, and Niers did not like them. Nor did Lizvek.

“Stygian Embracers. Don’t target them with spells; they seem immune to most elements. Sector 1b, [Mark Target], fire—”

His stones were flickering back as each sector indicated they’d reloaded, but he needed more crossbows! Cameral was looking worried, but Niers just stood there. He could use a Skill if he had to, but he knew Lizvek. The Stitch-man could take a battle off Niers himself if you played his game. And as proof of that, Lizvek’s eyes narrowed, and he activated his best capstone Skill.

The Level 44 [Perfectionist Killzone Strategist]’s eyes gleamed with both mania and outrage. His killzone was perfect. Every line of it was laid out. Every sector supplied to his standards. It would hold. It would hold—

“[Supreme Strategy: My Formation is Perfect. Double Tempo].”

The thunk of crossbows in Niers’ ears began striking twice as fast. He watched as the nearest sector to him began to reload in a blur. The lights on Lizvek’s board began to light up, and he began counting down.

“Fire! Fire! Fire—”

The Stygian horde might have overrun and bled their poisonous blood onto another formation, but not one pumping out the wall of pointed death Lizvek commanded. Twice, monsters actually reached the trenches, but Lizvek was so offended by this stain on his perfect formula that he just pointed.

“[Correct Error]!”

Dead monster corpses vanished before they could leak blood into the troops’ trenches. Holes punched in the wall spells reset. He couldn’t do that more than six times a battle, Niers knew.

Lizvek was a uniquely fragile [Strategist]. One that Niers paid well, but used in specific circumstances. Throw too many errors into his perfect formations and he fell apart. He could still fight decently, but he required this scenario to become a nightmare.

Tulm had taken Lizvek apart more than once, and still, everyone from the Iron Vanguard to Rhir had tried to headhunt him for his talents. But he’d stayed with Forgotten Wing, probably because he just didn’t want to have to institute all his picky changes in another company.

The first wave of monsters slowed, and Niers was impressed, despite his cordial dislike of Lizvek, at how the [Strategist] worked between the flow of monsters. Once the rapid firing was over, he was speaking.

“[Cleanse] spells activate…now!”

[Mages] dashed out of cover, cleaning the ground before the poison presented more of an issue. The dead bodies? Lizvek had sixteen horses dragging Chests of Holding down across the battlefield. They shovelled bodies in, save for the biggest, then dumped them somewhere else before coming back.

“Those Chests of Holding are utterly unfit for anything else given the poison. We’ve had to create literal dump sites for some of the monsters. If they’re valuable, they’re valuable, but the poison…”

Lizvek grimaced at the logistical nightmare of it all, and Niers nodded.

“Why not just leave them where they are if they don’t poison the front? I saw Maelstrom’s Howling do it, and the poison would slow the next wave.”

Lizvek snorted.

“Sadly, even the poisonous corpses appear to be digestible by some of the other waves. Leave them alone and one color will come and eat them all. Crimson.”

“Ah…those ones eat and grow without end?”

“Correct. Maelstrom’s Howling found that out the hard way. When the red color came after green, they grew twice as large on all the dead green corpses that had been left to rot.”

Niers sighed.

“This really is a monster nightmare. Well done on holding an entire color down.”

Lizvek preened as he watched his formations reset.

“Yes, well. I had to show your new students how strategy is performed. And though only one of them meshed with my strategy, I—not again!”

Niers saw it the moment everyone else did. The trickle of dark-colored monsters being picked off was slowing, but there was a sudden shift in the umbral clouds in front of them. The monsters turned, spitting poison back, and then—

Blue. Like a cloud bursting through the night, the darkness was filled by streaks of racing blue, beautifully deep and fast. Niers saw a racing figure tear out of the night, and it looked somewhat like a wolf to him.

Only, it had a long, jagged nose, stiff ‘fur’, and it seemed almost made of rock or metal—but it ran so fast that it was bounding out of the previous color, crunching one of the rat-things in its jaws, as Niers watched. It shook itself, shedding the droplets of venom on its ‘fur’, then gazed ahead.

“Blue! More damn blue! Sector 1a, [Lightning Bolt]! Fire—”

Lizvek panicked the moment he saw the first strains of blue. Niers watched the rank of [Mages] aim at the blue wolf, and bolts of lightning shot across the ground. Not as fast as real lightning, but damn fast. And just as clearly, the Titan saw the wolf tense to the ground, then dodge right.

“Ah.”

The ground exploded, and the wolf appeared to the right, unharmed. It was speed. Speed itself. Niers saw more blurs racing through the darkness and counted.

“Seven, eight…only nine?”

Nine wolf-things appeared out of the darkness, and Lizvek tore at his hair.

“The color is changing. Prepare a [Fireball] spread at my coordinates! Sectors 1-6, you will fire along my marked zones! They don’t have the numbers of the other colors—”

And they didn’t need to. Nine wolf-things burst out of the smoke, jaws coated with the black venom of their prey. Stygian black was retreating, being pushed by the new color coming, and, clearly, Lizvek had not found a strategy that worked on them.

“All designated units, fire!”

Niers watched as the blue hounds raced forwards, saw the [Fireballs] streaking at them, the crossbows firing, and…they dodged everything.

Fireballs exploded in a perfect line, and the blue wolves raced ahead of the blasts or just waited until the detonations happened and continued forward. Crossbow bolts were being fired in a spread, but the animals just dodged each one.

Like the world was in slow motion. Niers grunted.

“They’re coming.”

“Sectors 6-12, fire on my—”

Lizvek panicked, and Cameral shouted.

“Trenches, [Ironguard Formation]! Brace! Brace—”

The wolves hit the trenches, and then there was blood. Niers heard the shouting, screams as the wolves raced into the trenches or kept going, attacking Lizvek’s crossbows.

They were fast. But, he observed, not the most deadly. The wolves could bite and tear before a low-level [Soldier] could block, but they were, well, wolf-sized. They couldn’t kill in a second, and armor stopped their jaws.

It was still bloody, and more than one was trying to drag away a soldier into the mists. However, Lizvek finally nailed two, and another one was running at the front lines when it halted, spewed blue blood onto the ground, and keeled over.

“Poisoned. Huh, they shatter like porcelain.”

Or at least, parts of them did. Niers saw another spray of ceramic ‘armor’ or hide as the [Soldiers] surrounded and bludgeoned a fourth to death. Then the four remaining blue hounds were racing away, and Lizvek cursed a storm.

So much for his perfect defense. No wonder he hated these things; they were made to mess with his ideal formations. They’d overrun any regular force too quickly; no bloodless engagements here.

Niers rubbed at his chin.

“So that’s my color, hm? They come in month-long waves, or longer. What’s after blue?”

“Green, Professor.”

Cameral answered as Lizvek screamed obscenities and began demanding reinforcements sent, trying to fill gaps in the damaged sectors, bring all the ammunition levels up to equal. Niers left him to it.

He’d seen enough. His turn.

——

Niers gave several orders in the first two days of his arrival to the front. He’d timed himself well enough; despite the Azure beasts arriving, Lizvek was still mostly cleaning up the Stygian hordes.

Mostly, Niers was doing some groundwork, ensuring his army was ready; like Lizvek, he had his own ‘style’, though he was far more adaptive. Still, he knew eyes would be judging his performance, so he had a conversation with an unhappy [Druid], an unhappy Foliana, and an unhappy Drake in that order.

All three were, by and large, expected. The [Druid] was easiest; Niers had a back-and-forth and some pushback, but none of the Circles of [Druids] in Baleros liked the Dyed Lands. They might love nature and animals, but they could see invasive species like these needed to be stopped.

Foliana? She was still mad about Oelnnox. She snuck up on him as he was making some plans. He’d had a few thoughts and wanted to test them out. Only when he felt the kiss of a dagger against his back did he stiffen.

“Foliana, stop that. Or if that’s not you, do me the dignity of not wasting my time?”

She appeared, glaring.

“Oelnnox. Are they there yet?”

“It’s been two days; no they aren’t, Foliana. You know I had to do that.”

Her glower intensified.

“You’re going to get them hurt or killed.”

“Which means it’s beyond time. Focus, Foliana. Do you think your team works?”

She rolled her eyes. In some ways, they really had grown soft with age. He had to lay out everything for her these days—well, he had Atmodeca lay them out as he instructed, which showed how he’d grown soft.

Maps, supplies, a briefing on the team, and instructions on where to go and what to do in order. Foliana poked at a healing potion, and he snapped.

“Stop that. Not even we get to waste those. The team, Foliana?”

“They like me. They’re young.”

A Named-rank team in their thirties was ‘young’ to her. Niers just sighed.

“Then you have your mission.”

“Tell me why again.”

She was getting obstinate because she was mad at him. Niers’ answer was simple, if not one that many would understand.

“Because it fits in my plan, Foliana.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then it’s a statement. A symbol.”

Upon that simple sentence, he asked her to risk her life. She glared at him, thinking, head down, and he added.

“I need you to assess as well. My thinking is that we’re not getting the worst of it. My thinking is that the nastiest monsters are still deep in the center of the Dyed Lands. These? These are the low-tier predators. Bottom of the food chain.”

“Mm. I don’t like that.”

“Join the entire army, Foliana. I’ve got some…ideas. As far as I can tell, every Great Company is struggling. Jungle Tails has our western flank. The bastards seem to be willing not to fight us; they must be having trouble. The Iron Vanguard and Maelstrom’s Howling are containing, but no one’s advancing far.”

Her ears perked up, and her bushy tail covered her chest as she began to finger-comb it.

“Bannermare didn’t get in far?”

“As I understand it, she ran into the Crimson eaters and took some nasty casualties. She didn’t know they grow on the dead.”

“Mm. Stupid.”

“She’s young. Her [Strategists] deserve firing for that one. Actually, I think she’s riding down to have a word with me tonight. Do you want to meet—?”

Foliana had already vanished. Niers rolled his eyes. His commander was a child. But that was fine—he drummed his fingers on the table.

All eyes on me. He wished he had his Selphids. If he did, he’d be happier. But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

If the King of Destruction and all his ‘vast forces’ were teleported to Baleros today, and Niers’ Forgotten Wing company were lined up against him, Flos would be wiped out in a single battle.

He would. Niers hadn’t missed how many vassals of the King of Destruction had failed to show up and decided to guard their lands. Forgotten Wing was no longer the underdog having to fight off his armies.

But they held so much land, so many places to defend, they were so spread out…everything cost money. He couldn’t concentrate his forces like he wanted. He was spread out.

Perorn, one of his best commanders, was in Izril. Even if she was starting something there…Niers sighed.

“One full-board army is all I can spare. It’ll do.”

Not enough forces to be everywhere. Certainly not to go with Geneva and ‘Erin’ or find the real Erin or secure the Calanferians against their trouble. Niers read a report and grunted.

“Iron Vanguard and Jungle Tails on them. Wonderful. That idiot [Knight].”

He hoped they survived. He needed people like ‘Ser Solstice’, or even Seraphel du Marquin. Pieces on a board. They could matter more than entire regiments. He thought in pieces and levels, war and armies. For this coming battle…he had taken several important units and put them together. But also—a useful piece on the board, even if the piece in question would have preferred to be nobody and no one at all.

Well, Niers didn’t pay Balsamic well enough to be a nobody.

——

The conversation between Niers and Balsam the Drake was cordial, if short. The Drake came into the tent, threw a casual, uncomfortable salute, then brightened up when he saw the platters of food.

“Mind if I eat, sir…?”

“Go ahead, Captain. I’m not going to finish more than half of it myself.”

“Hah. Thanks.”

The Drake began to chomp down on food with a will. He didn’t like Niers, the Titan fully knew. The Fraerling scared Balsam, but the mercenary followed orders. Niers paced around the maps he was eyeing.

“I don’t have long, which I know suits you just fine, Captain. Anything of note to tell me?”

Balsam thought for a long moment as he swallowed liberal portions of spiced marinated meat without even pausing to gulp water. Niers got a bit of pepper seed on his bite and swore a blue streak.

“Er, uh, no, Lord Astoragon. War’s been tough. Jungle Tails fight like hell. Y’know. Sucks.”

“Very descriptive, Balsam. Or is it ‘Balsamic’ now?”

“Don’t remind me, sir. The Lizardfolk are fun. Skeldriv don’t care about the temples. Most don’t even remember the Nagatine Empire or Lightning Thief.”

Niers felt at his greying hairs and grimaced.

“Well, it’s old to them. I heard an Eye of Baleros reached our shores.”

“…Fuck.”

The Drake didn’t like that and hunched his shoulders. Niers waited, but that expletive seemed to sum it all up in Balsam’s opinion. Niers sighed.

Their conversations were mostly like this. He chewed on another piece of meat, then spoke.

“I’m going to give it to you straight, Balsam. I need the Skeldriv to fight this blue wave. Azure beasts. It’s going to be dicey.”

“Can’t, uh—can’t you get another group to do it? What about the Rustängmarder? They’re tough bastards.”

Balsam fidgeted. Niers sighed louder.

“They quit for the King of Destruction.”

“Oh. Damn. Selphids and Rusters?”

The Fraerlings wagged a finger at the Drake, who swallowed more meat uneasily.

“Don’t go losing your nerve, Balsam. We’ve got Fraerlings with us, and that counts. Besides, with the Eyes in play, there’s nowhere safe in Baleros. Fight or die for Forgotten Wing. And where would you go? Izril? Terandria? Chandrar?”

They both had a hearty laugh about that, though Balsam swore.

“Damnit. Fine. I’ll fight hard. Just don’t throw our lives away!”

“I’m not intending to. That’s all. Take the meat with you if you want; I have a Centaur to meet in five. Oh, and can I do anything for you? Give my regards to your commander. Is it still Rexica?”

Balsam packed up the food with a will as he shook his head.

“That’ll be Dutter. Rexica retired. Got some kids now. Grandkids, rather.”

“Huh. Damn, retirement.”

Balsam and Niers both shook their heads at the thought. The Drake did pause at the door once, though, with a thought.

“Er, sir? Do you know, uh, any [Healers] I could find? Ones that could sort of vouch for me being not sick? There’s this rumor going around and—”

Niers blinked, heard out Balsam’s explanation, then smiled.

“Ah, of course. I’ll have Forgotten Wing’s own [Healer] visit you and write up a report. She won’t poke and prod—no, wait. Would the Last Light’s words be better?”

Balsam brightened up, then looked worried.

“The Last Light herself? Sure! But if she’s going to, uh—”

Niers waved a hand and scribbled a note.

“I’ll have someone write it in her name tomorrow and deliver it this week. Just find a moment to go into the city, alright?”

“Sure. Er, thank you, sir. That’ll help a lot with the, uh, the rumors.”

“Think nothing of it. Anything else?”

There was not. Balsam saluted as Niers nodded to him, and the Titan got the distinct impression that the Drake was glad to have gotten all this over with. Niers sighed. After nearly twenty damn years, the Drake was still cagey as could be around him.

Ah, well, you had to respect that.

“Just you wait until I send Erin at you.”

Niers muttered at Balsam, then cursed. All his Skills and talents and he could have really used one interpersonal Skill. Charisma was not his forte.

——

Then again, neither was it Aria Fellstrider’s. Oh, she was attractive to Centaurs, Niers supposed. She was fit, high-level, and if that wasn’t enough, he was sure her mother had enough money to make Aria the most attractive Centauress in the world if she hadn’t been born looking like that.

She was very, very good at war. The moment she had been born, she’d followed her mother into battlefields, and the Bannermare was incisive, witty, but charismatic?

…Not to him. She came into his camps where his army was assembling, and everyone was all over her, begging for an autograph, standing in awe of Maelstrom’s Howling’s 2nd in command, even if she was a sometimes enemy.

But to Niers, she just vaguely annoyed him.

“Niers! Good of you to show up on the front! Here to prove your company’s better than all the others?”

She meant it as a jest or challenge, tossing her bluish-silver hair in an arc. Niers blandly stuck out a hand as she halted in front of the pedestal he used to meet visitors face-to-face.

“That’s the plan, Aria. How’s Gwelin doing? Perorn says Izril is lovely for galloping about, especially the Great Plains. ‘As good as home’, she said.”

Aria’s confidence visibly faltered as she held out a finger for him to shake. She stamped a hoof.

“I’ll pass it on. Mother complains about her hooves and back all the time. Both backs.”

“You should hear Foliana complain about her fur. I heard you ran into some nastiness. Crimson eaters not a fun foe?”

She scowled harder.

“We managed! Don’t go giving me lectures, Niers. I’m not the filly you remember.”

He remembered when she was a shy little Centauress hiding behind her mother. All the dazzling charm of her aura hit Niers’…and bounced off. Without it, Aria just looked, well, young and jostling to impress, teasing and poking, like most kids her age.

“I wouldn’t dream of insulting Maelstrom’s Howling’s greatest frontline commander. Frankly, I only wish Tulm were here; the Iron Vanguard looks a bit too timid to engage properly on their front.”

“Hah! They are that, but it’s not easy. You’re up against blue. Your people did well against Stygian black or whatever they’re called, but blue has torn up all four Great Companies.”

“You mean three.”

“Do I? Oh, well, Jungle Tails is practically a Great Company again. Or else you wouldn’t struggle against them, right?”

An innocent expression as she tossed her hair again. Niers just sighed. Amazing how she was the same age as other people and just not as mature at times. Erin…no, she’d been that silly sometimes, he supposed, but Aria?

“I’ll do my best. What’s the issue? Speed?”

She scowled harder.

“Don’t joke. Some of them are almost as fast as me. It’s hard to fight them without taking casualties, and they want to race off and attack any settlements around. The only thing worse than them is green because of the infestation thing, or maybe red if they eat. And white because they’re invisible, and yellow’s blinding…”

They were all bad. Niers glanced at his notes.

“I’ll get more experience now that I’m here. It’s one thing to hear, another to see. I had a few thoughts, though. Tell me, have you considered using light spells against them? Especially white or black—it might illuminate them or something?”

She laughed at him, triumphantly, as the Centaurs around her grinned.

“Too slow, Titan! We’ve been doing that for ages. Yes, if you want to, you can bait them into attacking. Red will go for other colors—or avoid them if they feel weak—nice to see you’re as good as Maelstrom’s Howling’s top [Strategists].”

He smiled mildly as a few of the officers around him bristled. Good thing Venaz wasn’t here or he’d probably cause a stink.

“Ah, well, I did think it was a basic thought, but Lizvek wasn’t doing it. Surely, I’ll come up with a better strategy in time!”

His genial attitude towards her seemed to annoy Aria more than if he’d been insulting her right back. She hesitated, then danced closer on her hooves.

“Is, uh, Ryoka with you, or that Erin Solstice? I wanted to meet with them.”

“Sadly, they’ve gone east. If they have time, I’m sure they’d be delighted to meet with you.”

Discontented, she glanced around at his forces.

“Are you mustering a new army, then? I saw Perfectionist Lizvek was leaving. What’re you bringing?”

“Just a few groups. A full-board army.”

“A…I’ve heard that term. What is that?”

Niers shrugged as he saw several owls flying in overhead. A few of the Centaurs around Aria glanced up, but none of them seemed to realize it was more Fraerlings arriving via stealth. He didn’t feel like having Aria gush over Fraerlings all day, so he declined to mention them.

“Oh, that’s just an internal term we use. It’s when I decide to take disparate groups and form up an army that can counter most contingencies. Full-board? As in a chess board.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes, stamping her foot impatiently. Aria was no good chess player.

“Argh. You and your chess-things. And just putting armies together like that! They’re not going to fight together like a proper force who has experience!”

“My troops are used to adapting. But, then, I’m sure if I do have any flaws, it’ll appear in my performance against the Dyed Lands monsters, Aria. Can I offer you any refreshments? I’d drink, but I have to take command tomorrow. If you’d care to stay, my students would love to meet you…”

She was glancing around moodily.

“No. I just wanted to meet Ryoka or the Fraerlings.”

“Ah, well, I’m sorry to disappoint you. Foliana might be around if you—”

Aria jumped and trotted around in a circle.

“What? No! No! I don’t need her sneaking up on me again. I’ll just ride back; it’s not far.”

Visibly annoyed she hadn’t gotten under his skin, she trotted backwards, and Niers rolled his eyes. You beat a Centaur once in battle and they held it against you for the rest of their lives. In truth, he felt like he was the ‘big, bad, scary [Strategist]’ to Aria. She’d watched her own mother lose more than one battle to him when he was rising.

“Chip on her shoulder the size of Wistram. Though she’s not as stupid or spoiled as you might think.”

He commented casually to the air, and someone jumped.

Patrol Captain Shoike appeared with Iuncuta Eirnos and the other commanders of the Tallguard, seeming rather embarrassed. The invisible Fraerlings from Itelloi eyed Niers.

“Did you have a ring that detected us, Titan?”

Shoike asked, and he snorted.

“No. I just guessed you were there when I saw the rest of the Tallguard arriving.”

Plus, my pedestal moves slightly if more weight is put on it than just myself. He trusted them, of course; it would be a terrible thing to have an enemy Fraerling city with all their technology and resources. He hoped the one that Jungle Tails had captured wasn’t being suborned. Even Eirnos hadn’t found it yet, though Fraerlings were looking.

Eirnos murmured as she fixed Aria with her one good eye.

“She seems far more childish than I was led to believe for one of Baleros’ greatest commanders.”

“Just around me. She can be an adult. But I do like to tease her.”

Sure enough, Aria was glancing over her shoulder, and Niers couldn’t help it. He addressed the hugest figure on the pedestal with a laugh, raising his voice.

“Rozcal! How are you liking the front? Fancy fighting any of the monsters with your Crelerbane Armor?”

Commander Rozcal laughed.

“They’re a bit big, and there’s a lot of them, but I’d try taking down one of them wolf-things solo! Just say the word, Niers!”

Even among the other Fraerlings, they thought he was crazy, but the huge, bluff Fraerling with his bright orange beard and impressive physique could probably do it, given his level. Niers saw Aria focus on the tiny figures as she heard their loud voices, then she screamed.

“Niers, you liar!”

She came stampeding back, and Niers saluted Eirnos.

“I have to run. I have your forces in reserve, Iuncuta. Aria, go to bed. You’re way past your bedtime.”

“You—you—you—”

He strolled off with a laugh as the Fraerlings blinked at him, and he reduced Baleros’ most eligible Centauress into a spluttering, finger-pointing ball of outrage.

Then he sat moodily in his war tent for a while. He drank no wine, but muttered.

“You brat. Speak to me like someone who understands this is war, or like a child. Don’t do both.”

Then he shook his head, and shrugged. He’d take it out on her forces next time she thought she could win a battle against him. Sometimes friends, sometimes enemies. He lay down to sleep.

When he woke up, it was time for war.

——

Venaz, Marian, Umina, Cameral, Jekilt, Kissilt, Merrik, and Peki all were present to see the Titan of Baleros’ first engagement with the Azure Beasts. Even some officers that they didn’t know so well, like Kaelma, Kelsa, and Romin, were definitely watching from wherever they’d been stationed.

Not that all the students were actually on the field, of course. They were split up amongst different commands. Cameral had been serving under Strategist Lizvek, whom he described as ‘challenging’, which was as good as saying the Stitch-man was a nightmare, and Kissilt and Jekilt had been actually trusted with their own armies.

“Just hunting down monsters that break through. It’s a nightmare. They’re all poisonous. I got a whiff of one of them before we were all issued masks, and I was vomiting for five hours straight. But I am glad you’re here. We’ll see if two of the famous ‘Strategists at Sea’ and their magic Relic-swords can turn the tides. Shame Feshi had to stay in Izril.”

Kissilt was always grating, but he actually clasped hands with everyone. Jekilt was far more casual, having seen battle before becoming a student.

“It’s intense, just like Kissilt says. Don’t mind his tongue. He kept moaning about how he wished you were here, Umina. We’ve had to adapt strategies a lot to deal with the colors.”

Kissilt turned bright red and began roaring objections, but then Venaz spoke.

“Where are you all being stationed? I’m with the Professor in his army. He has me with the ‘Shoreaxes’. I don’t know them personally, but they’re definitely good. Merrik?”

“I’m garrisoning the base camp.”

The Dwarf was all gloom. Apparently given the speed of the foe and his own relative weakness there, he had to run defense against attacks. He pointed accusatorially at Peki.

“Peki, on the other hand, is in the flying wings for Niers’ army!”

Kissilt and Jekilt whistled.

“Wait, Cameral’s been given logistics duty—that means you two are seeing the Titan’s combat? That’s the thick of things! Umina, Marian?”

“We’re assigned eastwards of here, or will be. Marian’s actually with some of the riders. Uh, under a Commander Jirem? But she’s not in charge.”

Jekilt nodded.

“I know Jirem. He’s an amazing commander in his own right. Centaurs. The Professor must trust you all.”

Cameral and Kissilt instinctively glanced towards Venaz. Here would be where the Minotaur blustered that it was only what they deserved or some such, and how well they’d do. Instead, Venaz just touched the hilt of his greatsword.

“That or he’s entrusting us to places we can do little harm. I doubt we’re ready. I’m going to meet the Shoreaxes and defer to their commander as to where I use my Skills. I’m sure you three have enough experience to lead independently, but we’re still too green.”

What a statement. Kissilt’s jaw actually fell open, but Venaz looked like he meant it. Even Peki nodded.

“Big fighting. Flight Leader told me to just follow her, so I will.”

Venaz the Prideful wasn’t sure he was going to do well? His journeys at sea and battles in Izril might have actually tempered the Minotaur. When the others asked about Wil and Yerra, Marian just shrugged.

“They’re on escort-duty for Erin Solstice herself. They seemed worried. Anti-assassin duty, probably. I hope we all pull our weight. For our part, I’m just glad we have actual troops. Remember Talenqual?”

Cameral shuddered, and Kissilt nodded.

“Monsters are easier—well, sort of. How do you think the Professor is going to do? Everyone’s watching, you know. He has to do well, or…but the blues are the hardest, I’ve heard. They’re just too fast.”

Jekilt showed them scratches on his flanks.

“Bites from the blue wolves. Your trenches or palisades or static defenses barely matter. You won’t have time to loose arrows—they’re just on you in seconds.”

Bad news if you specialized in hit-and-run like Marian. Merrik seemed the least-concerned as he grunted.

“Heavy armor is what I’d do.”

“You say that—but some of the big blues can smash someone in plate armor.”

“Well, I saw some War Walkers back there. The Titan’s pulling out all the stops. Weird War Walkers, though…”

Cameral’s head rose as Umina jerked a finger over her shoulder. He blinked.

“Forgotten Wing doesn’t have many War Walkers. General Diomedes has three of the largest, but the rest are…oh. Oh. He’s brought the Armortraitors. But they’ll be ineffective against blue. Maybe he’s going to rotate them after…?”

They didn’t know what to expect, but nerves were high. Not only for themselves but for Niers. There was a sense that everyone had great expectations of the Titan. If he couldn’t prove he was better at, well, strategy, then what?

“Funny. I never thought I’d be worried about the Professor.”

Umina commented to them as they ate over breakfast. In the distance, she saw the odd army that Niers had put together making for the pass that Strategist Lizvek had pulled his troops out of. Marian trotted after Umina to a place they could watch from.

“Me neither. But how do you deal with pure speed? Barrier spells and just hammer them? Maybe narrow the pass so they’re choked off?”

They watched as the shreds of Stygian black tore away from the whirling clouds of the Dyed Lands, and then…blue swept forwards like a rushing storm, and they heard curious, high-pitched bark-howls, then a din unlike the Stygian horde, who attacked in silence. They burst forward in a flood, and the two [Strategists] watched as the Titan led his defense.

Frugally.

——

Spells cost too much money. Bolts cost too much money, for that matter. If he could, he’d prefer not to waste magic. Oh, sure, he could just plop down the highest-grade barrier possible and shred the enemy, but Niers really didn’t want to do that.

High-level [Mages] or scrolls were limited commodities. Also? That wasn’t good strategy.

He was aware scrying spells were watching his first engagement leading his army. And he intended to send a message. One of frugality. A reminder of what Forgotten Wing was.

Before the battle, he had already done enough work summoning his commanders, outlining his preferred plan of engagement, and making sure they all knew what to do and where to move. He had a curious formation, his audience realized.

A full wing of Centaur riders led by Commander Jirem were armed in the traditional light lances and blades their kind wore. Niers had them held back from the pass and surrounding battleground he had to defend. Behind his vanguard, which were not the Shoreaxes.

No, instead, the full vanguard who held this ground, whooping and cheering and waving at the sky, were the Lizardfolk.

Skeldriv’s Lizardfolk appeared awfully small compared to the other species, even to the Fraerlings. And Niers had other groups! A bunch of Dullahans in curious armor, even a pair of War Walkers with unique armaments—he had more species in his forces than Iuncuta Eirnos had ever seen, but she questioned his formations. So did some of the other Fraerlings with her.

“I don’t see the same formations I’m expecting from that first [Strategist]. He cleared the ground and laid countless traps and barriers, but the Titan is fighting on open ground! How confident is he?”

That came from Patrol Captain Shoike. She was restless. She had been sent by her city to support the Titan and avenge the Fraerling cities attacked by Tallfolk, but she was no military woman.

None of the Fraerlings were, except maybe Eirnos. Fraerlings didn’t war, at least not like this. The numbers the Forgotten Wing fielded and the amount of monsters?

Every Tallguard in our region couldn’t hold this group back, but then, we’d never try. Shoike was worried that the Titan would need them. He’d put the Fraerlings in the rear as well, clearly in case he needed them, but that meant most of his forces were in reserve.

What was going on? Eirnos answered in a clipped tone as she played with her eyepatch.

“My briefings with his commanders indicated that these Azure Beasts don’t go for concentrations of strength. They try to move around any forces present, unlike the other colors. The Titan has to intercept them. Plus, given their speed, fortifications are weaker.”

In short, he had to engage them in a melee. Small wonder even the Great Companies didn’t like this color. Eirnos pursed her lips.

“With that said, I offered our Tallguard as advance forces. We could have flown ahead and showered the enemy with Vortex Bolts, but he declined that suggestion. We have Tallguard ready to drop, and we are to hold until his orders.”

Shoike’s heart sank. ‘Tallguard ready to drop’ meant they were prepared to fall off circling birds and use their Signim. They could kill scores of people around them or snipe officers—but Tallguard almost always died as a result.

Not a good use of them. She hoped it didn’t come to that, but it was odd. The Fraerlings were Niers’ best unit, bar none. Oh, they might be small, but they had the most magic, the most levels, Shoike was sure.

The only person not concerned amongst the leadership was actually Commander Rozcal. He was chewing on a huge french fry for a snack, devouring the giant potato that was taller than he was with evident satisfaction. Everyone glared at him until Eirnos turned.

“Commander, you actually fought alongside Niers Astoragon before the cities largely cut contact with his company, didn’t you? What can you say about his strategy?”

Rozcal wiped at his mouth.

“What can I say? I’m no great mind for this kind of thing. We’re just Crelerbane Armor. We see something with too many legs, and we decide to lop some off.”

He laughed hugely, wearing his Adamantium armor. Shoike sighed, but Rozcal nodded at the tiny figure sitting on his podium, in view of all to see.

“Niers? He always has a plan. I went up to him before he got set up, and he just told me that if we needed to go into battle, that meant all his plans were failing.”

Fair enough. The Fraerlings didn’t really relax, but Shoike glanced at Rozcal.

“And did he say what his plan was?”

Rozcal tugged on his beard.

“Hmmm. Yes. Frugality.”

“Frugality?”

“And that he really doubted it’d be an interesting first battle. It’s more showing off, he claimed. After all, he says he has so many ‘tricks’ with this army he doubts that they’ll get past his first lines.”

The bluff commander laughed as the Fraerlings eyed him. But then they heard warning horns, and the first blue wave burst out of the clouds. Blue was coming. Then they saw Niers raise a hand, and the Titan of Baleros put on a show his enemies knew quite well.

——

Balsam and Vinegar company were near the front when the Azure Beasts came out of the mists, and he didn’t like it one bit. He’d promised to fight hard, but Niers had sworn not to get his regiment chewed up!

Still, Balsam pretended this was all fine as the Lizardfolk gasped. Blue wolves raced over the ground, then stopped, and bigger monsters followed.

“Aw, hells. That one looks tough, Captain. What is that?”

A Lizardman groaned as he pointed to a huge, armored…what? Balsam squinted.

“Looks like a combination between a rhino and hippo. Only, the horns are spaced horizontally instead of vertically. Longer too. Don’t let it hit you straight on or we’ll be pouring you into the grave along with our drinks.”

“What the heck’s a rhino, Captain Balsamic? Or a hippo?”

“Chandrarian. Saw them in a menagerie, once.”

“Weird.”

Laughter, nervous, and groans as the huge beast ran way faster than it should into position. They were lining up like a cavalry charge. Balsam gritted his teeth. He could see them blurring along, defying normal physics.

Like Galas-muscle or they’ve got a [Speed] spell on them. Damn, damn, damn.

He wished Eyevil were here, or Plaxima. Both were good at their respective roles, as Nagas were, and they had been a lot more admiring of him once he showed them that clean bill of health Niers had gotten him.

But no, they were further back. Balsam heard a shout from behind him.

“Enemy preparing to charge! Don’t bother with spearwall formations! [Slingers], forwards!”

Slingers? Was the Titan insane? But there they came.

Slings. Lizardfolk loved slings. Find a rock and chuck it and you had unlimited ammunition. One could bust a head open easily, and en-masse…they’d humbled every force in the world with the power of a rock thrown hard enough.

But slings did have weaknesses. You couldn’t swing one around in tight formations, and they didn’t go as far as bows or crossbows or punch that hard.

Against the Azure Beasts, who did seem tough enough? How much damage would a rock do? And, more importantly, how were they supposed to hit them?

The damn monsters could dodge [Lightning Bolts]! But the Lizardfolk ran forwards, whooping, whirling their slings as the wave of blue massed and prepared to charge. The Titan gave the order as a surge of blue began to streak across the ground recently scorched free of Stygian venom, fast, fast—

They weren’t going to get more than one volley off! Balsam gritted his teeth.

“Get ready! Get ready! Don’t bunch up or the slings can’t get back!”

A voice from behind him.

“Now! Slingers!”

The Lizardfolk cracked the air with their slings, hurling the rocks ahead, and then ran back behind their friends, screaming and whooping. The Azure Beasts dodged in a blur the moment the slings cracked, almost contemptuously. As if they could even predict the projectiles’ trajectories. They leapt, a crashing wave racing over the ground, and then—

One of the wolves’ heads exploded.

Balsam saw it happen very clearly. The blue-wolf’s blood and brains exploded in a shower as it collapsed, and across the line of blue, more monsters stumbled. Fell. Not all as dramatically as the first, but—

“What was that? Did the Titan make the rocks explode like the Archmage of Centaurs?”

Questions arose as the Lizardfolk gasped and cheered. Balsam squinted. His eyes narrowed, and he focused…he saw clearly and then muttered.

“No. He stopped the stones.”

Balsam could see in the distance, as the blue monsters drew back a second in confusion, what was going on. Hovering in the air, frozen in place, the rocks that the Lizardfolk had hurled were just…stuck in the air.

Like they were under [Stasis]. Not floating, not anti-gravity or anything else, just fixed there. Hard as rocks.

What happened if you hit a rock that wouldn’t move while travelling at the speed of the Azure Beasts? Well, that. More than one of the Azure Beasts was howling, bones or their weird shells broken. Balsam began to breathe as a voice called.

“Bows, prepare to volley! Wait, wait—”

The Azure Beasts were coming in for a second charge, and this time, they were going to reach the Lizardfolk lines. Balsam bared his teeth. Come on—come on, Titan—

——

Niers was almost disappointed that had worked. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

“Azure Beasts aren’t processing at the speed they’re moving. My guess is when they blur, they’re moving faster than they can think or react. Or else they would have realized the stones were there. See? They’re coming slower past the rocks. Now they speed up—”

He watched them regaining momentum, coming in for a charge. Now, Niers had the Dullahans and Centaurs in the back ranks aiming volleys at the beasts who were about to hit Balsam’s front.

He lifted a hand, glancing at his [Strategists]. He’d called for good ones to join him in this offensive. Niers had a lot of Skills himself, but variety meant any army got infinitely more powerful. Like the one he’d asked for for this battle. [Stop Projectile]. He’d used this particular trick on Aria Fellstrider’s mother. And here was another from Jungle Tails’ own bag of tricks.

“—Now. Medusae!”

As the Azure Beasts entered optimal range, Eyevil and five more of her compatriots slithered upright. They opened their eyes, their snake-hair rising, and they did what Medusae were famous for: their petrifying, freezing, slowing glare.

Of course, it was only six of them. Not nearly enough to freeze any large force. You needed hundreds, and only Jungle Tails had that many. The terror of Medusae en-masse…what did you do if you lacked them?

Niers watched as Eyevil projected her magical glower into the object sitting in front of her. It looked like a giant…round…pane of glass. It was mounted on a wooden platform with wheels, and if you gazed up at it from the other side, it magnified Eyevil’s face. Her eyes.

The giant, rolling magnifying glass projected a cone across the field as the other five Medusae used their respective platforms to criss-cross the field. They didn’t manage to slow the surprised Azure Beasts fully; maybe only to 3/4ths of their speed? But the shock was enough.

“Loose. [Archers: Triplicate Volley].”

Niers’ hand swung down, and then the air was filled with arrows. They fell amongst the Azure Beasts who ran into the oncoming fire. Even then, the damn things dodged and juked, but they were still slowed enough, momentum lost.

“It really is like fighting Aria minus the music. Skeldriv! [Countercharge]!”

Niers yelled, and he saw Balsam launch forwards almost before he’d shouted it. The Drake knew the business of war, and so did the Lizardfolk. They rushed the Azure Beasts with a roar, and Niers watched the Medusae sag backwards onto their platforms, tired.

He eyed the swirling blue mass ahead of him and saw a flicker of movement ahead. Some of the scrying spells he had trained on the cloud indicated more bodies amassing.

“I wonder how there are so many. Are they all trying to get out of the Dyed Lands? And why? They’re pulling back for another assault. This color retreats and advances like, well, the ocean. [Mages], prepare some [Light] spells for me. I want to test a few more things.”

——

Ah, now that was the displeasurable feeling Niers’ foes knew well. In two moves, he had beaten back the first waves of blue like it was nothing. Not bloodlessly; they could see him leaving some of his Lizardfolk on the battlefield, but they’d forced the Azure Beasts into retreat with amazing ease.

Of course, part of that was because of the tools the Medusae had used.

“The Glasses of Amplification! He stole those from our temples!”

Half the Lizardfolk in Jungle Tails’ secret headquarters were outraged. But the Dragontouched, head of their military affairs, just sat, monitoring the battle.

Surely all nations who prided themselves on their prowess in war were watching the Titan. If only to learn. One hated to admit it, but he defined this era’s warfare. The Dragontouched was a student of Niers Astoragon, as was at least one of his Dragonfire Generals.

Speaking of which…the Dragontouched eyed another battle shaping up in the forests, but the Wyrmgraced had taken command of that affair with Calanfer. He commented as the noisy Nagas went silent at his voice.

“He has stolen techniques and forces from every species. Look. The Azure Beasts are coming in force.”

More blue monsters, big ones now. It seemed they combined speed with size, because a massive, four-legged monster with a snub head and a lot of teeth was roaring out of the clouds. This time, though, the Titan wasn’t going to let them amass without trouble. The scrying orb shifted viewpoints, and here came the fliers.

——

Peki didn’t realize that the Azure Beasts had fliers until Niers had given the order.

“Garuda Wings, escort Skyfire in. Give me a flame wall straight through the center of that mass. I want them cooking.”

“Yes, Lord Astoragon. Garuda, to the air!”

Feathered figures leapt into the air, more than Peki had known there were in Baleros! Nearly a hundred were flying, and she followed her Wing Leader, who was in ‘Beta’ group. Peki flew swiftly through the skies, inhaling an odd scent as she drew closer to the cloud.

Smells like…blueberries? Or the idea of blue itself. She shook herself, balling a fist, and heard voices.

“Wing Leader Alpha, flying ahead.”

“Wing Leader Beta, we are clearing the way.”

“Wing Leader Gamma, on escort.”

The Garuda were in three groups, and two broke ahead, covering a fourth, even smaller group of fliers. Peki turned her head and blinked.

“Flying Kissilts?”

No. Oldblood Drakes. They were soaring in a V-formation, some not even flapping their wings hard. Their mouths were burning with their famed Dragonbreath; barely twenty total.

The Titan wanted them to burn the amassing Azure Beasts, but the color of blue saw them coming and deployed a counter.

Fliers. Winged, glittering birds burst out of the air, diving and then rising in ponderous arcs. They, like the other creatures, had a glittering ‘shell’ that clearly weighed them down, but they dove like lightning.

Alpha Wing recoiled when the monsters reached them, moving up and backwards, baiting out the first attack. It was like a wave of glittering monsters broke over them, crashing down, but the dive-bomb attacks were too short; Garudas flew backwards, bright feathered colors retreating from the superior numbers of the Azure Fliers.

Instantly, the Garudas called out. Peki had been issued a speaking stone, and she heard voices talking in her earholes.

“Fliers incoming. They rise slow. Aim for when they do so.”

“Lord Astoragon, I count two hundred and climbing.”

“Two Skills on your forces, Wing Commander. Hit them hard. Fall back if they bring in heavies.”

His voice was steady, and Peki glanced back and saw the Drakes were falling behind. They were…slow in the air, she noticed. They advanced in a clump, with Gamma Wing circling around them. They were still fast enough; the Drakes would be over the Azure Beast mass in maybe five minutes.

Five minutes was a long time to fight in the air.

The Azure Beasts didn’t realize the Drakes were the threat. They went for the Garuda. Peki saw the Alpha wing engage first.

“Alpha wing. Move to attack speed. Prepare to net…now. Break!”

The Garuda turned and hurled nets as the Azure Beasts dove at them. Peki saw the lightweight nets covered with stones hitting the beasts. The fliers tangled in them tried to fly and fell.

“Alpha 2. Nets effective.”

“Beta wing, nets!”

Then it was Peki’s group who swung towards the confused beasts. Peki hurled her net clumsily, cursing as an Azure Hawk dove with folded wings. It came at her from above, so she twisted in the air, rolling right as it flashed past her, claws missing her by inches. Peki cursed.

“Damn. Fast.”

“Don’t mouth off unnecessarily, Beta 4! Alpha wing—engage!”

The Garuda behind Peki’s squad streaked past her as she flapped backwards, baiting the Azure Beasts. Once more, they streamed downwards, then flapped to try and rise above the Garuda who fell on them from above. They had no sense of tactics in the air! Garudas dove with light blades or even axes, aiming for a single target as their enemies tried to rise.

Wings. A vermillion-colored Garuda dove and hacked once at an Azure Hawk’s wings, then rose. The damaged wing failed to keep the bird up, and it shrieked in a low, ringing voice as it tried to rise.

Aerial combat tactics. Alpha Wing was scattering the Azure Fliers right and left, forcing them to dive down further, anything to evade the attacks from their weakest spot: above. Even so, it wasn’t bloodless. She heard voices, terse, controlled.

“Alpha 10, I’m bit! Beaks like razors!”

“Fall back, Alpha 10! Alpha 2, they’re on you—”

“[Evasive Dive]! I’m out of it—”

The Garuda with flight-goggles ahead of Peki was pointing, and Peki followed Beta Wing’s leader as they flew above the skirmish in the air. Alpha Wing was disengaging; the Azure Fliers were pursuing them, and now Beta Wing dove, launching another attack on the distracted foes. Beta Wing’s leader shouted.

“We’re diving! Lord Astoragon!”

“[Speed Raid]. Hit them.”

She was so focused in the moment that Peki nearly forgot she had Skills as well! She cried out as they dropped, suddenly accelerating faster, faster—an Azure Hawk was right below her, wings flapping as it tried to rise, completely ignorant of the new threat dropping on it.

“[Unit: Thunder Punch]!”

She hit the first flying bird so hard it exploded. Or she thought it did; the bird dropped, and Peki saw she’d blown its armor off all of its body.

“Beta 4, nice punch! Don’t let them rise!”

Alpha Wing turned, abandoning the feigned retreat. Now, both wings were flying about in the air, dogfighting with the monsters in close-quarters. Peki launched an [Anvil Kick] down at a bird, [Close Countered] another. She was doing it! They weren’t that dangerous—but then she heard a voice in her ear.

“Alpha wing, Beta wing, break! Break!”

But they were winning! Peki peered up—then realized more of the Azure Hawks were coming. And bigger fliers. A second blue wave broke over them, and this time, the Garuda weren’t in an advantageous position.

The young [Lieutenant] swivelled with the Garuda and flew back as a second wave came in, and now—

“What is that thing? It looks like some kind of fish!”

A manta-like flier was undulating through the air—only, it was long, and little, tiny children detached from its body. Peki shouted.

“Get away! It’s swarming—”

A scream as a Garuda too close to the manta-thing was covered. The Garuda scattered in the air, trying to avoid dozens of mini-Mantas that swarmed around like angry flies. Peki tried to dive after the falling Garuda, but she was too far. She watched the body dropping as Niers spoke.

“[Mages], [Featherfall] that Garuda!”

Did the body slow before it hit the ground? Peki didn’t know. She was too busy gaining altitude. Alpha Wing’s leader, their commander, was speaking tersely.

“They’re bringing in heavies just like us, Lord Astoragon. I’m taking out that carrier. Beta-wing, cover me.”

“On it, Alpha wing.”

This time, Alpha Wing met the Azure Fliers straight in the air, drawing back and fighting and drawing back—unable to engage while the mantas kept trying to swarm them. Peki heard Beta Wing’s leader rasping urgently.

“[Fast Wings]. We need to get them off Alpha Wing. Don’t let them dive!”

Her squad managed to get above the Azure Beasts, another flanking maneuver. Once more, they braced, then came the order.

“Beta wing, down, down, down! Get them off Alpha Wing’s backs!”

Here, the first hawk Peki met dodged her punch, and when she tried to flap into a flying kick, it raked across her skin, drawing blood with razor-sharp feathers. She gritted her teeth, chopped through a wing, and watched her enemy spiral down.

Then a scream.

“Aaa—”

A crunch, and something dropped past them. Something big. Peki saw a huge claw and slanted, staring eyes. A bigger bird than she’d ever seen, except for Tiqr’s annual Roc migration. Frantic voices in her ear as the huge bird’s wings snapped open, and it began to rise, beaks snapping. It had two beaks? Stained with red blood.

“Squad Leader?”

“Beta Wing’s leader is down! What is that?”

“It was in the clouds! Dodge, dodge! Another coming in—”

A second gargantuan bird dropped, and now, the Azure Beasts were attacking. With the huge birds scattering the Garuda, they were no longer fighting together. And when they scattered, the smaller hawks attacked, trying to pick them off.

Alpha Wing’s leader was terse.

“The Manta Flier is still spitting those tiny bastards. It has to die or we’ll be swarmed. Beta Wing, keep those two giants off us!”

“We’re trying, but it’s got too much armor! My blades barely do any damage!”

Two Garuda were flitting around a giant, vaguely chicken-shaped bird flapping upwards. They were stabbing, but the armor was too thick. Peki glanced around. Beta Wing’s leader was dead or unconscious.

Then—

“Beta wing, up, up! Fly with me! We have to drop them!”

“Beta 4, we don’t have your Skills! It won’t work!”

She cried out, and voices dissented. She soared higher as her squad hesitated, and she realized she had to explain. Peki spoke breathlessly.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re so big. Drop on them and—they fall!”

“She’s right. Beta 4, we’re with you. Up! [Sudden Updraft]!”

More Garuda realized what she was thinking of and rose with Peki. They circled higher on the warm thermals, and Peki saw the two vicious, giant Chicken Fliers pecking and tearing at Alpha wing below her. She turned, pointing with her wing-hand.

“Four on that one, four on this one. Drop!”

She didn’t have her [Axe Kick], but she performed one anyways. Eight Garuda dropped with her. Peki hit the first giant bird before it could peck Alpha Wing’s leader and saw it reel. But then it focused two orange eyes on her—it would have turned, but four Garuda grabbed one wing and four the other.

They dove, and the giant flier shrieked, tried to flap its wings, and realized they were holding its limbs. And the Garuda might be lighter, but they had all the momentum.

They were taking the giant down in a suicidal dive. Now the Chicken Flier was panicking. It snapped, tried to bite, and broke free at last as the Garuda let go. It twisted, flapping its wings op—

Crunch.

The bird’s neck snapped as it hit the ground head-first. The Garuda flapped up as the second giant bird landed on its front and broke both its legs. Peki heard cheers from below, but she was climbing again. Alpha Leader spoke breathlessly.

“Good job, Beta 4! Take command of Beta Wing and join Gamma Wing. Lord Astoragon, fires coming down. Enjoy the show.”

Then Peki peered up and remembered what the brief, intense battle in the air was all for. She saw the first Oldblood Drakes flying slower above the Azure Beasts open their mouths, and glowing fire poured downwards.

——

“Huh. Not bad.”

Balsam shaded his eyes as he saw twenty Oldblood Drakes perform their iconic attack on the Azure forces. The beasts scattered, but they ran into more waves of burning heat or were hit by bolts of lightning that curved, seeking them out. Their fliers were falling and dying as Niers called his back.

Garuda and Drakes flying in the same skies. Balsam knew that Drakes were often mocked for their flying abilities since most didn’t live in the air like Garuda. So that was how you used them; Garuda sheltering the slower but magical Drakes.

Then he heard a voice.

“That big beast. I want it dead. War Walkers. [Precise Shots]. You’ll have your moment.”

Balsam turned and grunted as the earth trembled. He saw two unique War Walkers stride forwards and unsling the biggest damn crossbows he’d ever seen in his life.

——

“Armortraitors.”

Tulm the Mithril was watching the battle despite not even being on Baleros’ shores. He glared at the two War Walkers. Most were loyal to their people, but some were mercenaries.

A few joined Forgotten Wing despite the standing orders not to. But these were unique even among War Walkers.

After all—they carried giant crossbows custom-built for one purpose: killing other War Walkers. Given the rarity and difficulty of making more War Walkers, such destructive, murderous weapons were all but banned. War Walkers spared each other’s lives when at all possible.

Not Niers’ murderers. They sighted down the crossbows as the Azure Beasts came in for a second charge.

“TULM. HOW IS THE TITAN DOING?”

The Seer of Steel was part of this conference call analyzing the Titan’s performance. Tulm glanced over his shoulder; he had work to do, and his lips curled as he straightened.

“With respect, Seer of Steel, there is little point in observing the battle. He will use cloud spells next. He’s having…fun.”

——

“Skeldriv, fall back. Fullhelms, forwards.”

Ah, now they saw it. That grinning madman. That performer on his stage. This is why they hated the Titan when he came at them with a real army.

A [Magician] with a hat full of tricks. The monsters of the blue surging towards him had no idea how many abilities his army had. They charged, ready for stone traps, for slowing spells, perhaps.

But not for Niers to turn off vision.

The clouds blotted out all sight and vision and swept over the entire field as Lizardfolk ran back, setting themselves. A choking, hazardous haze that made the advancing monsters freeze, unsure where to go, what was ahead of them. They had to slow, running into each other, and snarled.

The first Azure Wolf nosed forwards, sniffing until it ran into something hard. Hard and immobile. It thought it was a wall and tried to get around until the Dullahan, helmet glowing with enchanted glass lenses, swung a sword down and pierced the wolf’s back.

Fullhelm Armor. To Drakes, they probably looked like Salazsar’s Rubirel Guard. They were Dullahans wearing armor that was thick and constricting, even by their standards.

Full helms, sealed, without anywhere to let air in or out. Enchanted so you could see even in a cloud spell. They marched into the fog and began to attack their blinded foes.

“Keep clear of the clouds!”

The orders were being barked up and down the lines as Niers watched. He was sure Aria Fellstrider’s tacticians were kicking themselves for not figuring out some tactics, but how many specialists like this did Maelstrom’s Howling have?

Not many; Centaurs couldn’t pull this trick.

“Fullhelm Armor to Lord Astoragon. The foe is weakening rapidly under assault. Marking behemoth target.”

“My compliments, commander. War Walkers, fire.”

Two thunderous discharges and a howl; the War Walkers fired into the clouds, and the beast screamed.

“Partial hits, Lord Astoragon.”

“Do you need another hit, commander?”

“No, Lord Astoragon. Beast is dying. Cloud kill.”

At first, the observers didn’t quite get it. They saw Azure Beasts emerging from the clouds, wounded from their battle with the heavily-armored Dullahans who could fight in the blinding smog. But then they realized the Azure Beasts were smoking, not that wisps of the clouds were clinging to them. It ran off their bodies as they rolled, howled, and open wounds seemed to grow…

They collapsed, and the clouds parted to reveal scores of dead Azure Beasts, some not even bearing wounds from the melee. Niers was nodding when his speaking stone chirped.

“Lord Astoragon—what kind of cloud spells are those?”

Iuncuta Eirnos had caught on first. He replied calmly.

“[Acid Cloud].”

Shock, then outrage as watching companies and the newspeople, those paragons of morality, caught wind. Eirnos barked back.

“Lord Astoragon, that is considered a war crime in battle—”

“Not against monsters. It’s minimally effective anyways. Fullhelms, fall back. We’ll try for simple [Ash Cloud] or [Dust Storm] spells next time, commander. That’s cheaper anyways.”

“Of course, Lord Astoragon.”

Niers Astoragon stood there, waiting for another wave of the beasts to form up. After a moment, he sighed, kicked at his pedestal, and then cast around. Ostentatiously, he peered up at the sky, where he knew the scrying spells were, and shrugged.

Just for the cameras. He held his palms out, as disappointed as he felt.

That’s it?

——

Of course, Niers knew not every army could hope to replicate his tactics. Having the Fullhelms or as many fliers as he’d brought was impossible for others, but that was the purpose of this army.

A testing ground to figure out a foe’s weaknesses and capitalize on them, and as far as he was concerned, the Azure Beasts were a lot of weaknesses. Not that he expected them to stay weak, and their real danger was mobility.

They had a lot of ground to protect. Once the [Acid Cloud] spells had dispersed, he pointed.

“Jirem, sweep the field. Keep pushing until they reform. I want as many miles as you can grab. Ten would be nice.”

“Yes, Lord Astoragon! Centaurs, we ride!”

Here came Jirem and his fighters. They had been held back in the battle the entire time, pawing the ground, cheering, ready to go any moment—and he had held them.

He hadn’t even used the Shoreaxes or Fraerlings. The Titan watched the Centaurs storm forwards. If not purely as fast as all the Azure Beasts, they were precise, could gallop and fight as one unit—devastating outriders who could clean up the fleeing enemy.

That was Forgotten Wing for you. This army he’d brought, hodgepodge, of so many species, was impossible to find anywhere else in the world. Not just because you had so many species, but because of how they were fighting.

Take the Drakes or Centaurs, for instance. Both were entirely prideful; most Centaurs found it a point of honor to be attacking first in battle. They did not like being held in reserve, but in reserve was where they were best used in this case.

Aria Fellstrider would never allow it or convince her people to act like that in any good way. Similarly, Drakes taking the role of slow-moving, fragile fighters to be escorted by Garuda who fought for them was a hard sell. The Armortraitors fighting side-by-side with Lizardfolk and Nagas…

“We’re all mercenaries here. It was just a first wave; they’ll throw more at us, I’m sure.”

That was Niers’ only comment when someone wanted to interview him for the television. He glanced at the cameras distractedly.

“I intend to push the Dyed Lands back, and I will. It has taken time and energy to get to this point, which I regret, Sir Relz. The war with the Jungle Tails company has hurt all of Baleros.”

“Er, quite, Lord Astoragon. But your display against these ‘blue’ monsters is quite impressive! I was told every other company struggled to effectively rout them!”

Niers smiled with false modesty.

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration, Sir Relz. I just tend to bring more tools to a fight. Aria herself warned me the Azure Beasts would be a threat, and my guard is fully raised. Anything that could trouble the Bannermare isn’t worth dismissing.”

He turned from the conversation and gave a signal to cut the feed. Niers then proceeded to clear five more waves of blue with minimal casualties.

He hoped that really, really annoyed Aria.

——

It was safe to say that the Titan was being watched by anyone with a [Strategist] class. You had to. He was the eternal bar to surpass, even if you were doing it out of spite.

So few people could lay claim to being better than him. He’d killed several such challengers to the throne he sat on.

Who, living, was as dangerous as he was? Tulm the Mithril? He’d taught Tulm. Bastion-General Quiteil of Rhir? Orthenon in Chandrar?

Not famous enough, warriors versus pure strategists. On Izril’s soil, Wall Lord Eschowar had never been famous outside of Drake and Gnoll politics. And the Cyclops was all but defunct. Lord Fulviolo El had died, as had Lord Linter Veltras—and again, all but one of these names were different classes, not the pure quill of strategy.

Besides, there was something about Niers Astoragon’s tactics that took the breath away. Not the originality; anyone could think ‘hey, let’s use a cloud and put someone who can see inside of it’. But implementing the tactics across species, using so many?

That was it. It was the myriad nature of his army. There was no other comparison except Rhir itself. It had been a small part of the battle, but the Garuda’s brief aerial combat against the Azure Beasts and their tactics was actually saved and replayed in Manus’ academies as textbook aerial combat for their fliers and [Wyvern Riders].

But for all you could learn from him, there was a pernicious element too, at least, to a certain mindset. It looked like something good. It looked like excitement, even awe.

Hundreds of young cadets in Manus’ Academy of War were standing up in their seats, talking. [Students], [Tacticians], aspiring officers—one raised a clawed hand at their teacher, who was going to break down the way the Garuda had used three-dimensional space to outmaneuver a far more numerous foe, a difficult concept for most land-based peoples to grasp.

“Yes, Cadet…Lible? You have a question?”

“Yes, Ma’am! Why don’t we use Garuda in our armies? Those were incredible tactics, but no one has dedicated Garuda wings in their armies, not even Pallass! They just have mixed-wings units.”

Every head in the class turned, and new students nodded at this obvious question. The grizzled Manus veteran paused and replied, a touch sharper than her students thought was necessary.

“We don’t use other species because Garuda have no presence in Izril, aside from Pallass, and not enough to create entire wings, Cadet! Besides, the tactics employed by the Garuda translate perfectly to our old Oldblood fliers. The tactics being—”

“Feint and withdrawal, Ma’am. Collapsing withdrawal maneuver, Aerial Combat Tactics #22. But if we had Garuda—they’re faster, nimbler.”

The annoying Cadet knew the Drake-based tactic by heart, so the instructor didn’t shift the conversation, and she grew more annoyed. She snapped back.

“The Walled Cities do not need to hire [Mercenaries], Cadet! We are working with the species on our continent, which are Drakes…and Gnolls, of course. Confine your studies to applicable tactics where you hope to be deployed—unless you want to work for Forgotten Wing? Or serve in Rhir?”

Her tone was sarcastic, and the Drake boy sat down, confused.

“No, Ma’am. I just—”

He stared at the frozen image of Peki flying alongside Drakes until the instructor shut off the broadcast. And he was proud. They all were, to see Drakes lighting the skies up with magical flames, being important.

Centaurs, Dullahans, Stitch-folk, Lizardfolk, Humans—the Titan had every species in the world in his armies, and he used them at their finest. Who hadn’t cheered to see their people represented, let alone used well? So…that was why he didn’t understand the instructor’s protective wrath.

Why can’t we do that here? It looked so beautiful. Then it made Cadet Lible feel bad, because for a moment, he had a thought.

Maybe Manus isn’t doing it right? If the Titan can do that—

The instructor snapped at him and called him up to answer a series of increasingly-difficult questions, and the idea fled his mind, but it lingered, that terrible, disruptive thought. Poisonous, treasonous, really.

To all but the King of Destruction’s ilk or someone like the Titan. If you couldn’t do what he had done, then he had to be a fool.

Or what was your excuse?

——

Niers ignored the applause, the approbations, and commentary after that. Sir Relz wasn’t stupid.

…No, he might well be an idiot, but he was no more of one than anyone else watching Niers. Any congratulations about these seemingly-ideal battles revealed the people commentating had no clue about war.

This was a war. This was a damn campaign, and Niers taking the first few moves meant nothing. He had to be more than just a…a [War Leader] making clever plays and saying ‘volley’ at the right moment.

He was a [Strategist]. He had to wear a hundred hats, and that was why Niers told his students to be people who took interests in travel, the sciences, magic, and culture.

Today, Niers was a Named-rank adventurer. He stood over a body of one of the Azure Beasts, afterwards, and watched Fraerlings covering another corpse. [Alchemists], [Healers], and [Beast Tamers] were carving up corpses, trying to find unique, magical organs or looking out for hazardous materials.

It appalled the Fraerlings. Iuncuta Eirnos was in a full-body suit enchanted against hazardous materials. Niers had on a safety fedora with a huge red feather attached.

“Yep, the blue stuff’s definitely ablative armor. Like a shell they’re all growing. It flakes off; it’ll take one or two hits pretty well, and then they get faster. Probably ideal for creatures as quick as they are.”

He stabbed his enchanted sword through the layers of weird shell-stuff, showing some of the watchers how it was actually thin layers of the carapace; it even had air in ultra-thin ‘pockets’ of space. Like a honeycomb, but miniaturized. Fascinating design.

“Probably ideal against the Stygian-types. The poison might not soak through the layers. Green too…I wonder if those damn parasites can bite through this. Look into that for armor against the Stygians. Actually, see if their venom can kill the green parasites.”

Niers glanced sideways, and instantly, one of the helpers following him around noted that down. He was sure that the many people his company employed had had the same thoughts. Every [Strategist] put ideas like these forwards, but he was just making observations as they came to him.

His students were part of the crowd, but none of them were able to ask questions like in class. Eirnos grunted sourly as she peeled up a flake of blue armor.

“This won’t be much use to your artificers or ours, Niers. No good as armor. Maybe as extra cladding, as you said, but I wonder if it rots.”

Economics. Another hat to wear. There was a lot of gold to be made in monsters, but the sheer poisonous contamination of the Stygians or the danger of the Jade Infestors meant that they were net-losses on killing, just like Crelers. Azure Beasts also seemed less-than-useful beyond their meat. No one had observed their teeth or bones being that magical—yet.

However, the Titan was calm.

“It’ll be worth it. I want [Mass Preservation] runes put down on all corpses and have them stored. Not in mass piles. Neatly, with round-the-clock monitoring. For parasites as well as tricks. Cameral, deliver a report on the work by tomorrow night.”

It would be a huge effort. The Dullahan gulped as Niers pointed out one of the [Quartermasters] who was overseeing the work. Everything was effort; he sniffed at some blue blood clinging to his gloves, then wiped it on his pants.

“It even smells like damn blueberries. Colors…colors. Umina, Marian. Report!”

“Professor!”

They dashed forwards, making all the Fraerlings on the dead Azure Wolf’s body back up from Marian’s hooves. Niers pointed.

“You will contact Elvallian and our [Master Librarian] and find out all the information on colors and monsters you can. Iuncuta Eirnos, please furnish them with Fraerling texts on the same. Give me a report on fighting enemies with color-based magic. More specifically, how to hurt them. Cross-reference Xrn the Small Queen and, uh, Belavierr the Stitch Witch. I know I’ve seen reports on the Small Queen using a spell like this.”

“Yes, Professor! When…?”

“Just give me a report by the end of the week or when you have more. Oh, and one more thing.”

He waved them back, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“—Be careful about the Stitch Witch records, especially the authentic ones. Ask our [Master Librarian] about word-based hazards. What’s the damn word? Memetic? There’s precautions.”

They looked less happy about that, but Niers waved them off. Patrol Captain Shoike was impressed.

“You’ve implemented memetic hazard training in your own research divisions, Lord Astoragon? I thought only Fraerlings had them.”

The Titan snorted softly.

“I did a bit, but [Librarians] tend to implement them as well—at least, the ones who survive handling anything of that danger level. Okay, I doubt I’m coming to any grand pronouncements studying these monsters. Everyone, watch your damn feet around Fraerlings. Where’s Rozcal?”

Part of Niers longed to be the adventurer, having to figure all this out without full teams of people to delegate to. To just keep marching into the clouds, but only Foliana got to even play adventurer these days…he couldn’t waste time like that.

However, there was that sense of excitement. Of seeing something so new and fascinating…and at least one Fraerling had that grin like a kid who’d forgotten that time was supposed to make you old.

——

Commander Rozcal had encountered more elements of the Azure Beasts—albeit not ones currently being hunted down as stragglers or engaging the soldiers.

Even with all the will in the world, the blue beetle was not going to be much of a threat to anyone besides, well, Fraerlings. Give it credit; it was a foot long, had a huge, spiky horn, and it was fast. But it was no Corumdon Beetle.

Any member of the Tallguard could shoot it down, enhanced speed or not, if it came at them. Easy to dispose of.

…So why, exactly, was Commander Rozcal out of his Adamantium armor? He had stripped down to some bodysuit leggings and was bare-chested, two arms raised, crouching like a wrestler.

“No one interfere. If I die, let the bugger go! Come on, Azure Beetle or whatever you’re supposed to be called.”

The angry horned beetle was pawing at the ground like a bull. It charged in a blue blur, and Rozcal shouted and leapt to the side. He barely avoided being gored by the horn and checked himself; he had a red gouge across his muscled chest.

“Hah! It’s pretty fast! [Stop Bleeding, Damnit]!”

The wound obligingly stopped, and he raised his fists and sprinted at the beetle. It was not expecting the uppercut he gave it, and it buzzed backwards. Then it charged again, and Rozcal shouted—when the two met, he was grappling with the beetle, two hands on its horn, as the two tried to throw each other down.

Iuncuta Eirnos had a hand over her face as Rozcal broke every safety regulation they had. Niers just snorted. He watched as Rozcal threw down with the beetle for six more minutes before planting a foot on its underbelly as its feet waggled in the air and roared victory. Let people laugh at the sight or mock Rozcal.

In his way, the commander of the Crelerbane Armor from Reton was a lot more suited to handling the Dyed Lands than most.

——

The Azure Beasts came back the next day in cautious, probing attacks, and Niers’ strategies held…for a time. He defaulted mostly to using the Medusae and cloud spells to great effect; blinding or slowing the Azure Beasts was simple.

As the Titan understood it, Jungle Tails had employed similar strategies against the wave of blue and done better than the Iron Vanguard, who had their defensive lines overrun and been forced to chase the fast monsters, or Maelstrom’s Howling, who did not like being outsped.

However, what he had brought was a bit more adaptability in his armies; Jungle Tails didn’t have his Fullhelms nor the aerial support, and their casters had been dive-bombed by the fliers.

“There’s a weakness when the birds dive. Let’s throw out illusions and time our bows to pincushion them. If they’re not hitting the land-based beasts, it’s a good use of their time. Get Lizvek on it before they go; he likes figuring out that sort of thing. Have…yes, have Venaz do that. The Shoreaxes won’t see much combat today.”

At first, Niers’ special class students were very pleased to be the Titan’s go-to option for anything he wanted done. Then they realized that they were essentially glorified assistants. They weren’t so capable that Niers had to keep them in their roles, so they ended up running around doing all the odd jobs he wanted.

Well, it was good experience. The main thing Niers did on the second day of engagements was to have one of his [Mages] cast a few spells.

[Light]. Albeit broadcasted across the entire front with illumination levels that were almost blinding until Niers had [Grand Magus] Veern adjust it not to blind his forces.

“What color would you like to bait the Azure Beasts with, Lord Astoragon?”

The Wistram-trained Lamia had been mostly casting low-level cloud spells all day, along with the occasional [Mass Slow], and he tried to hide the yawn of dismay at using his talents thusly. But Niers’ raised brows made the Lamia slither upright slightly.

“The purest and most intense color you have, Magus Veern. I’d also like you to tailor your spellcasting so it’s not just suitable to your Skills. Something lesser [Mages] can cast with minimal practice.”

“Oh, for other parts of the front? Of course. The color? I can mimic the other monsters of the Dyed Lands from sight alone, though I might need a specimen in my hands to do perfect color-matching. Once I have it, I’ll remember.”

Niers held up a finger, thinking. Then he fished out a speaking stone, tapped it.

“Niers to Foliana. What’s your favorite color?”

He listened a moment as Veern eyed the speaking stone and everyone listened. Niers rolled his eyes.

“Poo-brown? Vetoed. Veern, give me yellow, pink, and green.”

“Three-Color Stalker’s eyes? Of course, Lord Astoragon. Let me know if I’m mixing them right. I, ah, haven’t had the pleasure of seeing her eyes close-up. And hope never to.”

“She’s not going to eat you, Veern. She doesn’t eat Lamias. Aside from that one time, and that was for a job.”

The [Mage] had a beautiful tricolor light bathing the forces of the Forgotten Wing shortly, and Niers observed the sporadic attacks from the Azure Beasts…well, if they paused a bit when seeing the colors, they weren’t doing anything different. He ordered the lights shone across his forces, then toured the other areas copying his tactics.

“Hold—the colors don’t look right here.”

A nervous [Battlemage] broadcasting the [Light] spells froze up, but Niers wasn’t angry—he just spoke into a stone.

“Magus Veern, please produce a [Magic Picture] of the exact colors you’re using and have them circulated to every [Mage] on the front. I want color-standardization. If anything has good eyesight, it’s this lot.”

It still didn’t do much, if anything. Niers had observed how a bright light mimicking another color might actually cause a smaller number of the Azure Beasts to back off or react like it was a threat, but they kept coming at his forces. He had the lightshow continue. For the rest of the week…poor Venaz saw little action and a lot of Lizvek.

——

Niers actually returned to Elvallian after a week. Just for a day; he teleported this time, without fanfare or announcing the move. In fact, one of the Tallguard got to play him for half a day.

They were using long-range teleport spells at intervals to ‘hop’ across the continent. It was an idea they’d copied from Archmage Valeterisa and their spies in The Wandering Inn. Fraerlings had taught Niers’ [Mages] the magic now coming out of Wistram, but it wasn’t going to be practical until the Forgotten Wing company could put a lot more gold and time into the project, and even then, it’d be priority things only.

…And they did not have the coin or resources to burn on this. Niers didn’t go to his classes; he strode into the war room with Vler, the top [Strategist] in the citadel with so many fighting frontline battles. The man was a Human from Kaliv, actually. He usually looked stressed, even if Niers suspected that rocks would break in battle before Vler.

In this case, stress was warranted. The Forgotten Wing company’s maps were lit up with battles across the continent, and a lot of them were marked with red icons.

Defeats, retreats, ambushes, and just…if Niers was explaining the map to Erin again, he’d be able to show her broad trends or concentrations of force, but it was a simple picture.

“This Dyed Lands push is costing us on a lot of fronts, Niers. I know it has to be done, but Lizvek had a working strategy, and in a few weeks, he’d have figured out blue…”

“Lizvek would cede another fifty miles before he figured it out, Vler. It’s reputation.”

“Reputation.”

Vler didn’t go for ‘reputation’. He looked at the cost in gold, manpower, or magic as variables he respected. Niers understood the man’s foibles and strengths. Vler was an anti-monarchist to his bones. Part of why he’d left Kaliv had been that business with the Cursed Prince…a blow to the Kingdom of Griffins.

Their loss, Niers’ gain. He really should have kept up his presence in Terandria…but it cost too much. Everything was costing too much, and the Forgotten Wing company did not want to eat these deficits long.

Vler indicated the wave of lines moving out of their western holdings.

“Jungle Tails isn’t letting us go without a fight. I’ll get most of our people out intact, but…here. Gelizment. Are you sure? There’s three days, maybe, when we can pull out our forces.”

He tapped the city that Niers had been thinking of for a while. The same one that he and Erin had spoken about in her [Pavilion of Secrets]. The Titan gazed down at the icon on the map where units were gathering.

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll tell General Lrjax, then.”

That was it. Vler questioned what he chose to, but he could understand what Niers was doing. Just not like it. You didn’t have to like a lot of this. Niers rested his weight on the edge of the map.

“General Gloriam’s cleaning up well. Diomedes…tell him I want him heading west the moment he finishes his work. Full speed.”

Vler nodded, eyes flicking across the board. After a moment, Niers sighed.

“You know, Vler, Perorn just marches up to my face and asks me what the hell I’m doing.”

“I know. I’ve never seen it work.”

If she weren’t in Izril, she’d be acting as Niers’ second-in-command or riding out from the citadel to take to the fight in an important area. He could really have used her, but…she was sending gold from Izril. Every bit counted. In time, she’d grow her forces there, but that was assuming they could weather the storm long enough to reap his investments.

Strategy. Niers had needed to send someone he trusted to Izril. After Peclir, trust was low with the Titan, even among his best people. He flicked his gaze to Vler’s reserved face.

“Sometimes I told her if she got annoying enough. Or she’d just rattle off guesses and try to read my expression.”

“And I skulk around in the background, trying to figure out what you’re doing like those mystery novels I enjoy. Want me to be more Perorn-like?”

“No, just commenting.”

Vler steepled his fingers together.

“I’m trusting you have the vision and see what I’m seeing. Let me just ask…are we doing something dark?”

His voice was very cautious now, and Niers shook his head instantly.

“Just run-of-the-mill bastarding, Vler.”

“No rituals? No people in hoods?”

“Nope.”

“No jars filled with Yellow Rivers in wells?”

“No.”

The [Continental Strategist] nodded after a long moment of sizing Niers up. He didn’t relax or appear happier. Niers wondered whether Vler had been hoping for the opposite response.

“Well then, keep ‘looking good’ against the Azure Beasts. Supply lines are fully linked up from here to the front. You know I can’t stomp into an area and clean it up like Perorn can, right?”

The Fraerling sighed as he watched more icons appearing over the map of his holdings. He could sense Jungle Tails in the west, a growing stain of power. Sense his own territories reduce as his people just abandoned what they’d kept and built up for decades.

“I know.”

——

By the time Niers returned to the front, the true danger of the Dyed Lands and the reason why no other Great Company had managed to do more than push a wave of colors back for a time was evident.

“They’re adapting.”

Niers lowered the spyglass, and there was a rumble from Venaz and Lizvek. Not of outright denial, but the desire to want it to be otherwise.

The Azure Beasts had split up. They were coming in dispersed pockets, not a wave, the better to avoid the Medusae’s eye-spells. Worse, Niers watched them running at his front lines, and the moment the cloud spells popped up, they turned and just fled.

As far as he could tell, it wasn’t so much a single controlling intelligence or even a hive-mind. The monsters were just smart enough to recognize patterns.

It made his job harder, of course. Niers got a nasty surprise when he tried to use the cloud-spells to herd the Azure Beasts into killzones; this time, the wave of monsters didn’t back out, but charged through the clouds, straight into his lines.

“Damn. Jirem, clean that up! [Mages]! I want vine spells ready to pop!”

Adapt. Now, Niers put down vine spells that snared the smaller monsters and fought off the waves. His forces adapted, and the Azure Beasts learned how to send a huge monster crashing through the vines then storm the gaps.

In response, Niers had pit traps dug and baited the bigger monsters into charging into the drops. They elected to storm random spots in his defenses. He decided it was time to introduce them to the concept of [Stone Wall] spells raised at the last second so they pasted themselves on the walls.

Then, for good measure, he rotated in several lines of Drake pikes, and the combined strategies held them for two days. Then they adapted, and he adapted.

A bag of tricks. Niers could do this for months, and the blue wave wouldn’t continue forever. However…the Titan had a weakness he knew full well.

——

The Titan’s full-board armies could find your weakness and tear you apart with it. If you surprised him, he just changed moves and hammered something else. Trade hammer blows with him and he’d be attaching ropes to your ankles and hooking them to angry horses—or something clever like that.

Analogies were stupid. The point was that the Titan would win on strategy, but his weakness was this: if you got him, if the Azure Beasts found a gap in his strategies by doing something new, he had to implement a new strategy. His thinking time was not the issue; he’d have a way to kill you in seconds.

The cost was the time it took for people to run into position, for him to implement. He had to reset the board, and in those moments, his army was vulnerable.

Not weak; he had defenses in place, but it was those times when the blue monsters hit the frontlines that Balsam earned his pay.

“They’re on Mustard company! Get them! Go, go, go!”

The Lizardfolk and their stupid games, their silly jokes—now it was all seriousness as the Drake led Vinegar company into the fight. He shoved aside Lizardfolk, raised an axe, and crushed the first Azure Wolfman’s head in.

Wolfman. It looked like a Wolf Beastkin, sort of. It was bipedal, tore at everything around it, and died fast enough if you broke its armor. Balsam did it with a single swing, and the Lizardfolk with spears who’d been jabbing at it fell back, mouths open.

“Push them back! Get around them and don’t let them run! Push—push—”

He charged straight into the Azure Beasts, swearing and sweating. Their real danger wasn’t in close-quarters combat. They were fast as lightning, and it was terrifying to charge them because you would get cut. But the real danger was them moving around you. If they got at a place you didn’t have armor on, they’d rip into you and be away. So press, press—

Twice, one of the Wolfmen raked his face, across his helmet. He crushed another head in, and then they were gone.

“Bastards don’t like taking casualties. Who’s hurt? Sound off!”

The panting Drake took only a moment before he had them marching back to their spots. By now, Skeldriv’s Lizardfolk had seen more combat against the Azure Beasts than they cared to. Despite the Titan’s strategies, one group had to take down the blue monsters, and guess who?

It was them. It was always them. The Shoreaxes and Jirem’s Hooves just stood there unless the beasts bypassed one of the Titan’s plans, then they were there fast enough, but unless it was the Fullhelms fighting under clouds—and they were digging trenches today, to ambush the beasts when they ran through—

“Hey, Balsam, why’re we doing all the fighting? The Shoreaxes are, like, three times our size. Can’t they take the front? Is it racism?”

One of the Lizardfolk under Balsam’s command whined at him as Eyevil came over to see how badly they were hurt. The Drake spat some water out; he had light gashes in the scales on his face.

“I thought you lost your face, Balsam.”

Eyevil was relieved to see he wasn’t badly hurt. The Drake was tough as rocks and strong as…rocks. Balsam shrugged.

“I’m fine, but Mustard got chewed up. Good thing the Titan’s sending us reinforcements. Where are these new guys from?”

“All the way in Oitz.”

“Oitz? That’s three hundred miles from here. Damn. He’s just feeding us with Lizardfolk from all over.”

“Why?”

The Lizardfolk weren’t rebellious; they were earning combat pay and being paid well for serving under the Titan himself, but it was wearing them down. Balsam eyed an entire three companies’ worth of Lizardfolk being rotated in who weren’t Skeldriv at all. And they were heading straight for…

“Balsam! Take command of this lot! Orders from the top!”

The Drake glared at the command tent where the Titan of Baleros was working from. He growled as Eyevil turned to him.

“It’s not racism, Chinv. We’re the new Selphids.”

It took a moment for his comments to sink in, then all the Lizardfolk groaned loudly. Chinv leaned on his spear.

“Aw. I don’t wanna be.”

——

Balsamic was doing his job. And that job was to take Lizardfolk, who laughed at his name then joined Skeldriv’s forces, and both keep them alive and get them used to their new position.

After weeks, despite their losses—and they were taking losses—Skeldriv had doubled in size. Niers was reading lists of wounded and dead and grimaced.

“Attrition rates are way too high without healing potions. Tell Vler I need three times as many [Healers] and [Medics], especially ones who were trained by Geneva or know her work, and half again as many more soldiers.”

Small wonder the other Great Companies weren’t committing to the offensive as much as he was. They were further off or just saw the lack of potions as a dire predicament. More deaths, more wounds…

But Skeldriv’s camp was packed. The glowering Balsam was in the middle of a wave of Lizardfolk cheering and resting before they were rotated back onto the frontlines when Niers visited.

And he did visit. In fact, he preceded his arrivals with a small army of his own: barrels of beer that he had beached in front of the cheering Lizardfolk.

“Skeldriv! You’ve been fighting like [Heroes] on the front, and rest assured, I am watching. I trust you’ve been eating properly, and not the Tier 0 rations that Tallfolk eat? Cricket bars and stuffed mealworms are not how I want to live.”

Lizardfolk waved and cheered, shouting at him.

“I’ll eat one! Titan, give me a signature!”

“Where’s Lady Foliana?”

“Hey, why are all the new people here? I barely recognize anyone! Wait, are you my cousin’s cousin’s cousin?”

The Titan let them quiet down a bit before continuing, glancing around. He had made sure they were getting fine food—that kept a [Mercenary] happy—but he nodded to the side.

“I also know that the fighting has been boring for some. Jirem, your people must have sore hooves from standing around.”

There was a cluster of Centaurs camped next to Skeldriv’s own—they were cordial enough. You had to be to work in Forgotten Wing. At his words, some of the Centaurs pawed the ground or stamped their hooves, but their leader, the cool Jirem, just called back.

“We could use more action, Titan. It doesn’t sit well with us letting our friends do all the hard work.”

A look to the right saw a few of the Shoreaxes watching too, and Niers nodded at them before pitching his voice to the crowd.

“Rest assured, you will have your moments, and they’ll be damn bloody and needful, Jirem. Trust that I have a plan.”

Those words alone caused a shiver among some of the listeners, and they nodded. Some of their stress or annoyance visibly faded as the Titan went on.

“I know exactly what I’m doing. But there are hiccups in every plan, and when there are, Skeldriv is cleaning up the enemy. So here’s something I’d like to share with you all. Captain Balsamic, front and center! I heard there was a Drake serving with Lizardfolk, and I had to see that. Let alone the name.”

Cheers and laughter, and Balsam scowled as he was practically pushed forwards. He glared, nervously, but Niers just nodded at him and pretended they didn’t really know each other. Then he gestured to the side.

“Cameral, show them.”

The Dullahan had a Chest of Holding by his side, and he held up a bag that was rather plentiful. He showed the Lizardfolk a lot of coins. Gold and silver. Mostly silver, to be fair, but they oohed. They were expecting the Dullahan to throw it, but Niers just nodded.

“A hefty purse. Captain Balsam—take it off Cameral, would you?”

The Drake blinked, then his eyes brightened. He accepted the rather fat purse, and there were complaints, jeers—then Niers spoke.

“I think it’s Chinv, isn’t it? Some Lizardman was calling me racist. I heard that. Get over here!”

A Lizardman in Vinegar company jumped and quaked, then approached. Niers gestured, and the bag of coins made the Lizardman stagger. His mouth opened.

“Wait, is this mine?”

Then the [Mercenaries] went silent, and Niers gestured. More people were lugging Chests of Holding over, and his eyes glittered.

“Every Lizardfolk who’s served in the front lines gets one. Every single one of you, so I don’t want to hear complaints. If you’re mad you don’t get a bag, well, wait until this wave finishes. This is just a token of my gratitude.”

Cameral had a list of names and began to call them out, but the sudden roar and cheering of voices made him flinch. Niers saw Lizardfolk pressing forwards and shouted.

“Order! You’ll get your turn, and we have your names written down!”

In truth, it wasn’t that much gold. Silver coins made up most of the bag, but it was still a lot. The Titan actually stepped away for a good three hours while he let officers use command Skills to keep the mob more or less in line, then he came back.

Everyone was drinking and cheering him, and he walked among them with Cameral, who held a dais up. Bright eyes filled with gold, companionship, glory, levels, and battle.

Many of you will die and never get that reward. You know it, and I know it. Balsam himself was looking moderately more happy as he sat with his expanded command—his bag did have mostly gold coins in it.

But Niers was just surveilling the mood and watching himself. As he had said to his students, whom he trusted were watching, there was a difference.

He had to lead and inspire. The King of Destruction could probably walk through most of his armies and get the same reaction without needing to pay them, but he was a ruler. Niers had to earn every shred of the respect others were born with.

He thought the loyalty he acquired was worth more for that, but the Selphids…Niers wished they were here joking, repairing their bodies—he shook himself.

“Alright, who here has been fighting the longest? Pull up a chair and give me something to eat. How d’you feel about the Azure Beasts? Anything I’m missing from my golden pedestal?”

The second important reason he’d come here was not just to raise morale, but to sit with his soldiers and get their perspectives. Usually, they didn’t tell him much. In fact, some of their advice could be woefully wrong, but Niers listened and judged as Lizardfolk veterans talked about what the best weapons to fight the Azure Beasts were, or showed him how they’d pasted the blue carapace-stuff to their own armor after picking it up.

“How many of ‘em are there, Titan? We keep killing the blues, but there’s been months of fighting. Are they just coming without end, like the Dyed Lands poops them out, or what?”

Everyone wanted to know that, so Niers frankly speculated with them.

“I’ve read my [Mage] reports and all the intelligence we have, soldier. Frankly? I don’t think so. I’ve seen summoned monsters and monsters that can spawn them out, and if there was that level of magic or such a monster, we would have seen it. Granted, these ‘color swathes’ obscure vision, but we’d have identified those patterns. You want my guess?”

Everyone did, so Niers took a bite of some roasted meat he suspected came from an Azure Wolf and grunted.

“My guess is that the Dyed Lands are just bigger than we thought. Dimensionally changed either from the time-skip event or they were always that way.”

“But the numbers—”

Niers waved that off.

“It looks like a lot, and the green swarms certainly are, but have you noticed the Azure Beasts retreat frequently? They don’t like dying in great numbers. And notice how many fewer Azure Wolves there are? I suspect we’re wiping out significant parts of their ecosystems. Now, the question is: why? My guess is that something is pushing them out more than just them wanting more food.”

A silence fell at that. No one liked that particular idea, but Niers nodded around.

“These waves have limits. The key is that with every month that passes, more are being born. They have a hundred miles of territory, and they’re eating, mating—”

“Pooping!”

“—that too. Corrupting the land. We’re just lucky they keep fighting each other, but that’s why we’re here. That’s why Forgotten Wing is here in force when the other Great Companies can’t even bother to send more than a regiment or two. Aria’s the only senior commander I’ve seen aside from a [General] or two on the other fronts, and she’s getting bored. Not us. Trust that this is not only important, but I have a plan, and that there’s more to come.”

His defense against the blue was the most solid bulwark the monsters had encountered yet. If there were reprisals…Niers met every eye as he tore off another piece of meat.

“The more danger, the more to gain. So I want you all to eat and drink like [Kings], then I want you sharp. No sloppiness! I’ve seen a bit of it this week. You’ll get rotated off the front soon enough, but you’re the Forgotten Wing’s finest. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

——

Captain Balsam did appreciate the gold, though it was still offset by all the damn Lizardfolk he had to herd about.

“Hey, uh, are you my Captain, sir?”

“Probably. Latrines are that way. If you’ve lost your stuff, go to each tent leader and ask.”

“Hey, you read my mind! Wow, you are a cool Drake.”

The new Lizardfolk got into arguments, had varying levels of training and equipment, but they were still decently good at working together. Morale was high, and for a frontline unit, Balsam had to admit that the Titan knew how to keep his soldiers happy.

In fact, you could argue it was better being in the actual army than in the reserves; the Centaurs were still kicking up shit at being so bored, but if you were lightly wounded or not engaged in combat, you got grunt-work.

Digging latrines, setting up new tents, digging trenches…a lot of digging. Or hauling. The Titan’s [Strategists] were all gifted at defensive works, which meant they were all relagated to [Engineers]. And that meant the [Soldiers] were all related to [Laborers] when it came to building said defenses.

Balsam and his company, as fighters, never got the job, and he heard more than one Lizardfolk group complaining.

“I hate that snooty guy.”

“Which one? Kissilt?”

“No, the one who tells you to measure everything.”

“Oh, Lizvek. Yeah, he sucks. Where did you work today? I didn’t see you. Corpse-hauling duty? The Fraerlings yell at you if you don’t watch your step.”

“Nope. Some [Druid] was screaming at us in the forest.”

Jikneq Forest? Balsam remembered it on the map. He glanced up as a Lizardfolk showed another blistered scales.

“We have to cut down trees and dump wood all over the place.”

“Yeah, no wonder a [Druid] was yelling at you, stupid. But hey, good job! That’s firewood!”

“Well, no one’s hauling it back yet. We’re drying it all out because it’s wet. Hey, Captain Balsamic! Can’t we burn wet wood?”

The Drake was trying to rest. He was stretched out dangerously near the cook fires, glumly turning down interested Lizardfolk who had heard he was down for romance. Sleeping within the ranks caused trouble. He flirted only with officers. He grunted back.

“Anything burns if it’s hot enough. But normally you want dry wood.”

“Who knew?”

“…Have you not ever made a fire in your life?”

“Nope! Heck, I didn’t know how to tie shoes until someone showed me how earlier this year! I just enlisted!”

Balsam tried to drag his helmet over his eyes.

Wonderful. More rookies. Keeping them alive, or mostly alive, was a headache, and he cursed the Titan again for it. The problem was—within even a few battles, most Lizardfolk were shooting up in levels. Counterlevelling.

He was sure the Titan wanted more out of this than just training up a new vanguard, but what? Balsam thought about it, then gave up. He decided he’d try to woo Eyevil with a bottle of something when a Lizardfolk called out.

“Hey, uh, Captain?”

“What now?”

“Your tail’s in the fire.”

——

After several more skirmishes Niers returned to Elvallian. Was he stressed? No more than any campaign, he supposed, but he kept waiting. Waiting…he wished Foliana were here.

Oh, she popped in now and then, but she would just grunt at him, raid their pantries and supplies, then vanish. On her own tasks, which only she, and sometimes—possibly—he knew about. When she was gone, he worried, because of all the people in this world, not even he could find her or know how she was doing.

Part of his stress, but he had to have faith. The Titan came back to Elvallian several times, to check on the rest of his company, to monitor The Wandering Inn and the [Palace of Fates] situation—

One second he was burning through all his spells against a horror in Izril, the next facing the Azure Beasts. It was why he was glad for Foliana to say the things he could not.

Yes, you’ve got a Mortemdefieir Titan. I have a hundred thousand monsters to fight.

Affection and pragmatism. It wasn’t his inn. It wasn’t even his damn continent. The news had gotten tired of showcasing him holding the line against the hordes of the Dyed Lands. Because he wasn’t failing or doing anything ‘interesting’, the world paid attention to the New Lands and their stupid magicless ground.

But Niers was certain that anyone living within a thousand miles of his frontlines appreciated his forces, and he made sure to update them on the fact that Forgotten Wing was winning. Still, not every day was exciting and required him.

So he went back to teaching class only to realize that the Titan was not the Professor.

——

“Incorrect! Your command is dead. Give me a way to counter this commander charge or we are all dying in the next fifteen minutes. Well? Anyone?”

Niers bellowed at a room full of younger students and saw them all freeze up. He realized he’d been shouting nonstop; he’d nearly reduced the [Princess], Angelica, to tears.

The Titan moderated his voice; normally, he had softer hands with new students, but he still tapped the edge of his podium with his little wand.

“—I’m sorry. Understand I’m not actually angry at you, but also know: this is real. There will be a moment, someday, where you will watch an entire unit of soldiers die under your command, and it will be your fault. If you freeze, if you fold, everyone else dies. Just the other day, I was told Umina walked her forces into some Stygian monsters in an ambush. She’s okay, but she lost three dozen soldiers. She’s one of my best students, and that blunder was on her. I need you not to freeze up. So—focus.”

He wondered if a Goblin would ever freeze up like the students who’d been sent to him to learn battle. But to their credit, it seemed like the broadcasts of his battles were putting a fire under his new cadets; Angelica herself was first to raise her hand to try and rectify her errors.

These students would go on to lead his armies, some of them. Many graduates of Elvallian’s academy did serve with Forgotten Wing to gain field experience. Most would inevitably go to their homelands to serve, but Niers knew his [Strategists]. They knew him.

——

He found time for a gathering of fourteen [Strategists], most of them appearing via scrying orb, to do much what he had done with the soldiers—get the impressions of his lower-level commanders on the front.

This group wasn’t fighting in the Dyed Lands, but waging war against Jungle Tails. Unlike the [Mercenaries], who were happy enough, Niers had to hear out a lot of concerns.

Everyone knew Tulm the Mithril, Niers’ best student, but he had oh so many more. Baeize was a Drake from Manus who’d been kicked out of the City of War for being too unconventional. Evergloa was a Drowned Woman who had elected not to return to the undersea world. Kith, a Garuda who’d been part of the King of Destruction’s empire as a lad and fled to Baleros to avoid reprisals against him and his family.

All of them proud alumni of his school, and, he realized, still with a bit of that rivalry in them.

“Your new students holding up decently, Professor? All I can hear is ‘Umina this’, ‘Wil Kallinad’ that.”

Evergloa was a bit sour, and Niers chuckled as Kith rolled his eyes.

“That’s just scrying orbs amplifying everything, Evergloa. You would have been just as famous if you’d been at Daquin back then. As for the students…they’re green, but the ones who went to sea have held up well. I haven’t had Venaz mouthing at me once despite seeing zero combat and working with Lizvek.”

“Dead gods, I heard you had a loudmouth. Well, I’d have taken him and his Relic-class weapon. Niers…I object to my orders.”

Baeize spoke frankly, and Niers nodded at him as the [Strategists] refocused and sombered.

“I’ve read your stated objections, Baeize. Hit me with it.”

The Drake nodded, rubbing at his cheek where a fresh scar was visible. It didn’t look like it came from an arrow; a Medusae must have tried to petrify him and only gotten one side of his face. Niers winced; that didn’t heal easy. Baeize just shook his head.

“It’s not me wanting to get revenge on Jungle Tails for the face, sir. This is my honest appraisal: we need to fight for every inch of ground. I realize as a Drake this sounds asinine—”

“No, you’ve got our support, Baeize; don’t sugarcoat it.”

Another [Strategist] interrupted, and the Drake nodded appreciatively. He turned to Niers.

“I heard they were making a stand at Gelizment. Let us do that everywhere, sir.”

“There’s not enough potions, Baeize. We’ll bleed rivers.”

The Drake exhaled and glanced over his shoulder; flies were buzzing around his tent even with spells. He was stationed in the marshes, overseeing a falling back operation.

“We have to. Sir, it’s not just about income or strategic areas of control. I’ve seen Jungle Tails sweeping forwards. I get they’re back and dangerous, but I’ve also seen their Nagas leading huge mobilization efforts during my raids. They’re fortifying this area. If we don’t fight back now, and hold on, in a year’s time they’ll have turned this entire area into trapped hell. We won’t take it back easily. I respect us saving civilians and our soldiers, but—we have to push. That’s my strategic analysis, sir.”

The rest of the group muttered mostly agreements. Niers nodded at Baeize.

“I hear you, Strategist. Believe me, I see the reports. I’m not going to ask you to see the ‘big picture’. I’m sure you see it. I’m asking you to trust my judgement.”

“…If you have a plan, it’s not bearing out in any troop movements I can see, sir. Nor is Maelstrom’s Howling exactly jumping to our aid. Or the Iron Vanguard. If they do get the Eyes…then we should all have been attacking now. I know my history. I know the Gazers are under attack, even if there’s no actual reports of combat in the deep jungles.”

Baeize fixed Niers with a steady gaze as he brushed at flies landing on him. The Titan paced left and right, and he replied.

“I’m waiting for my moment, Baeize. I can’t control the moment the hammer drops. I’ll give you this as reassurance: General Diomedes is on the march to your front. When he arrives, we will push back, regardless of any other balls I have in the air.”

That did give them something, and Niers saw the [Strategists] relax slightly. However, they still focused on him with that desire, a need to be reassured they weren’t risking their lives for nothing. Baeize coughed and cleared his throat.

“But there’s a hammer, sir?”

Niers paused, and he didn’t lie, not to them. But the truth? He shrugged as he spoke it.

“I sure as hell hope so, or else I’m going to look rather foolish.”

The Titan grinned, and they laughed at that, but he was…waiting. He hated waiting, so Niers filled it with the only thing he had ever had:

Ideas.

——

“Some days, I feel like if I replaced every leadership and combat Skill I have with economic ones, we’d have conquered Baleros by now.”

“That theory only holds so long as you live in a monetary-based economy.”

“Bah. Which particular city do you call home, Eirnos? One of those ‘everyone gets free food and a hug’ cities? Alechie? Culketripan? No, wait, it’s Culqe of Eyes, right?”

“I move from city to city as I’m needed. Rather like you did.”

If Niers had any equal in the field, whom he had to treat like one rather than a subordinate, it was Iuncuta Eirnos. What annoyed the Fraerling woman was that Niers clearly viewed her forces as inferior.

She, like the Centaurs and other elements of Niers’ forces, chafed at his lineholding actions. At first, she had been concerned he’d rely on her people too much. Now, she felt like his only use for her people was their research and technology divisions, which were superior.

They were entering a makeshift laboratory where monsters from the Dyed Lands were being analyzed by Fraerlings. [Alchemagi], [Researchers], your odd [Druid], and more. Fraerlings knew science whereas Tallfolk were so…incautious.

For instance, Niers himself had eaten some of the Dyed Lands monsters when Iuncuta’s report indicated very clearly that there were some definite harms to consuming all of them!

“Nothing major, but eating their flesh for sustained periods will definitely add up the, uh…chelk factors?”

“I don’t know what that is, but if Rozcal gets his pet, I’ll eat what I damn well please. Lizardfolk were scarfing down the monsters on the sly for weeks.”

“And you allowed it?”

“Of course not. I forbade it entirely. However, [Mercenaries] have a very keen sense of what’s edible and what’s not.”

So he used his people like test subjects. Or…knew they’d disobey him and that the results would ratify his actual researchers. Eirnos glowered harder, but she had to admit, Rozcal was a weakness in her arguments.

She stared balefully at the commander, who was still riding his beetle pet. He’d tamed the stupid thing, and half his Crelerbane Armor had found different creatures to tame. Worse, Niers seemed to think this was a good idea!

“[Beast Tamers], any progress in getting these Azure Wolves to play nice?”

He addressed a group of men and women, many of whom sported bites despite their heavy gear. A grimacing Human man showed him bites on one arm.

“None, Titan. We’re taking them further from the front; we think they’ve got that pack-solidarity in them to their bones while they know their friends are around. Twice, I swear some of those breakaway groups were coming for us.”

“And the green ones are just parasites. No good on them. I don’t want them anywhere near my kids.”

A female [Beast Master] shuddered. Niers nodded reasonably.

“We’ve got a few more reds too; even if we’re facing ‘blue’, the other colors make an appearance now and then. I’d love them if they don’t get uncontrollable after eating and growing. No green is fine by me. Hmmm. They don’t react to your Skills at all?”

“Oh, they do, Lord Astoragon. Just not fully. We can’t get more than trust or them eating our food.”

Iuncuta Eirnos was about to call over Rozcal to give his input when Niers snapped his fingers.

“What if you painted yourselves blue?”

“…Lord Astoragon?”

The Fraerling glowered at their expressions.

“Don’t give me that look. Just wear all-blue clothing if you don’t fancy a dip in some dye. They’re blue monsters. Blue is solidarity. Give it a try. Hey, Rozcal, how did you tame that beetle?”

Niers hollered, and Rozcal stopped flying about to shout back.

“I got some blueberries, rubbed them all over me, and the fellow was nice as could be!”

The [Beast Tamers] and Eirnos stared at Rozcal as Niers turned. He waved them off.

“Best of luck; report in later. Thank you!”

As they tromped off, arguing over who had to choose which color, Eirnos turned to Niers.

“Did you know that ahead of time or was that a guess?”

She suspected he’d heard it from Rozcal to show off, but Niers just wrinkled his nose.

“That? Just a guess. None of this is very impressive. It’s all…basic. Adventurers tend to need that kind of flexibility. I knew a fellow who couldn’t count to twenty, but he could adapt to any monster in seconds and trap the buggers. We need to make a profit out of this expedition somehow.”

“As opposed to fighting Jungle Tails?”

Another raised pair of brows.

“Jungle Tails are worth lots of money. Ransoms, gear, territory—if I were so wretched, I could sell them to the Slavers of Roshal. I lose a lot of money this way.”

Another huge sigh. Eirnos could read lies and truths perfectly, and she didn’t like how genuinely regretful the Titan sometimes was about how he couldn’t do monstrous things. She folded her arms.

“Most of the Fraerling cities wouldn’t work with you if you allied with that lot.”

“Yes, well, hopefully you make up for a lack of Roshal. Of course, there’s also morality for whatever that’s worth. History will judge this company differently. Now, [Armorer] Vleyda, do you have good news for me?”

A Gnoll woman did have good news for him. She was Balerosian-born and grinned as she presented him with a set of simple leather armor.

Blue leather. The instant Niers saw it, his eyes lit up.

“Aaaah. Tell me it’s magical.”

“Lord Astoragon, it is magical, but it has taken more months than I would like to make, yeah? I apologize greatly for the delays, but not every monster from the Dyed Lands was workable. I don’t want to touch the poisonous ones, the parasite ones, and invisible? I keep stabbing myself with my own pins!”

He smiled as Fraerlings poked their heads out of the laboratories and came running. How had a Tallfolk beaten them to the jump?

“So how have you beaten the other Great Companies and Fraerlings in processing the monster parts, Vleyda?”

She puffed out her chest and grinned.

“By being the best, yeah?”

“Isn’t she supposed to say ‘yes’, not ‘yeah’?”

Eirnos whispered to Niers. He shrugged.

“Dialects. Go on, Vleyda. What’s the trick?”

The Gnoll woman frowned at Eirnos and went on.

“There’s a weird trick to this hide. It doesn’t look that magic, especially the pieces from the weaker monsters, so most’ve my colleagues throw it out…yeah? Or just use it like regular armor. But I was watching, and I saw how even the lowest-level rabbit-things move. So I was wondering…where’s the magic?”

“Ah, we can answer some of that! These Dyed Lands monsters have tiny magical crystals forming in their bodies. Nothing like a large stone. Most of them are broken during dissections. The value isn’t really going to be worth the cost for you Tallfolk, but Fraerlings can definitely make use of them! The more magical the monster, the bigger these stones will be.”

One of the [Researchers] piped up. Vleyda nodded reasonably.

“True, true. But the Titan, he asked me to get as much value from these blue monsters as possible. So I took all the low-grade pelts and tried to get them to do anything. Magicore woven into the leather, enchanting, the lot. No good, nope.”

Niers was smiling and stroking his beard as he eyed the armor.

“I have an idea, and it’s damn stupid, but go on, Vleyda.”

She grinned with all her teeth, then showed him the armor.

“This is blue. All blue. Not a stitch of it isn’t; I had to get specially dyed string because it wasn’t blue enough. And when my volunteer puts it on, they can’t have anything that’s not blue. Even underthings. Volunteers?”

Niers turned and bellowed.

“Kissilt! Pants off!”

When the Drake came running and was told to drop everything, including his drawers, he swore and demanded a privacy screen. He complained as the armor went on.

“Hey, it chafes!”

“You’ll need blue underwear, yeah? But now—wait, those rings aren’t blue. Off!”

“But they’re my gear!”

“You heard her, Kissilt. Stop wasting our time!”

The annoyed Drake took his rings off, then even a bandaid off one claw. Only when the bandage fell to the ground did he take a step back, blink, and—

“Whoa. What the heck is—”

He sped up. Just for a second, then as he hopped left and right, the effect vanished. Came back on the sixth hop, and Kissilt swore as he leapt far too far right and slammed into Venaz and fell down. He got up, and the speed effect activated as he paced around. Just for a moment, then went off—Niers laughed.

“It’s color-based! This is so stupid!”

Vleyda was grinning.

“You’re going to need to have stylish warriors, Lord Astoragon, yeah? A few things, though. This is a low-grade piece of armor. I can’t control how the speed effect activates, so you’re sort of a hazard. The better the cut of leather, the less blue you need. So one of the big monsters and you can get away with a shirt. But the more of one color…”

“Damn, that’s annoying. We’ll have color-coded regiments.”

Niers was beaming ear-to-ear, and Eirnos exploded as the laboratory behind her went crazy.

“Are you telling me that every monster we just killed, thousands of them, are potentially able to make [Speed]-grade enchanted leather armor?”

The Titan’s grin was larger than he was. He snapped his fingers.

“Vleyda, this information is going to leak.”

“I’ve kept it as secret as I can, and my apprentices all have come with me, but the moment someone sees my armor, it’ll be clear, yeah, Lord Astoragon.”

“Right, then I’ll get on the speaking stone to the other Great Companies. You’re going to lock yourself away with all the people you want and start producing the best gear you can. Eirnos, I’d like all your best crafter-Fraerlings with her. Then we’ll begin advertising.”

——

The news about the Azure Beasts’ ability to be turned into innately enchanted armor—and the supposition that at least a few other colors would also be so valuable—certainly made it clear to Niers that the Dyed Lands were worth fighting.

But he’d known that from the beginning. He was an adventurer. Monsters were always worth something unless they were…exploding Crelers. Dead gods, even Acid Flies were worth money as Erin herself had found.

What annoyed him, what pissed him off, was this:

“Seer of Steel, you and I both know the Dyed Lands need stopping. I appreciate you sending eight legions to halt them with Maelstrom’s Howling from the north. I can’t help but notice you sent more with Tulm to the New Lands. I should have double that, and your best [Generals], not second-stringers you want to train up. And Jungle Tails. They’re after the Eyes of Baleros. Where’s my support?”

He was pushing the Dullahan later that day. No one knew about the value of the Azure Beasts yet, and the Titan was having a conversation few would ever dream of. One where he was speaking to the leader of the Great Company of Dullahans, person to person.

No politeness, no ceremony. Just a chat where Niers was pointedly stabbing a map with one finger as the Dullahan’s head rumbled back at him.

“WITH RESPECT, NIERS, IT FEELS LIKE YOUR WAR. WE ARE THE FURTHEST COMPANY FROM JUNGLE TAILS, AND SAVING YOUR TERRITORY IS NOT OUR INTEREST.”

“When they’re surrounding Invictel with an army of a hundred thousand Gorgons, I’ll remember that, Tindromeix! This isn’t them just taking revenge. I told you, the Eye has made it to Baleros. If they take out the Gazers…”

Then they have both Eyes, and we’re all in trouble. The Seer of Steel’s eyes flickered, but he replied.

“THE OTHER EYE WILL NOT BE TAKEN.”

“So you want to do with agents and operatives what you won’t do with armies. Why? Because Tulm’s planning to go all-in on the New Lands? Or are the Iron Vanguard thoughtless, short-sighted cowards? Because I could see that.”

The Seer of Steel frowned.

“I CAN SENSE YOU’RE UNHAPPY NIERS. I WOULD PREFER TO SPEAK TO FOLIANA FOR ONCE.”

“She’s eating a muffin or something. You’re speaking to me.”

The Seer of Steel made a grumbling sound and then flicked his eyes sideways.

“WHY AM I GETTING CHARRED? WHAT ABOUT MAELSTROM’S HOWLING?”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind. Where’s my commitment?”

After a long pause, the Seer of Steel replied distantly.

“…IF AN EYE REACHES THE TEMPLES, THE IRON VANGUARD MARCHES. YOU HAVE MY WORD. AT THIS MOMENT, IT IS SIMPLY NOT IN OUR INTERESTS TO PUSH THE DYED LANDS. WE HAVE SENT LEGIONS. THE DYED LANDS ARE THOUSANDS OF MILES FROM DULLAHAN TERRITORY. WE MUST SAFEGUARD WHAT WE HAVE.”

They cut the connection after that, and Niers had to analyze it.

“It’s Seamwalkers. They’re still on-guard about that. Or it’s the New Lands and expectations they’re going to fight the Terandrian crusades. Or…Maelstrom’s Howling and the Iron Vanguard are going to war again.”

Possibly all of the above. He could have dropped the information about the monster parts being valuable in the conversation, and he was sure the Seer of Steel would have committed another six legions to the fight at once.

But Niers didn’t feel like doing that. He did feel better in a perverse way despite the negative call.

It meant he could feel alright about what was coming next. The Iron Vanguard was sometimes a friend you could count on, a steadfast enemy with honor and dignity. And sometimes you really wanted to play football with their stupid, detachable heads.

Something occurred to Niers before his call with Maelstrom’s Howling. He was signalling for Aria to come in when he groaned and realized something.

It’s the Dragons. It’s always Dragons with them. Teriarch, the Dragonlord of Flames. They might ignore any normal one, but never him.

Wonderful.

——

If the Iron Vanguard had, annoyingly, objectives that made sense, even if you disagreed with them, Maelstrom’s Howling, the representative of all Centaurs, was different.

The Seer of Steel shaped his company, but his was Dullahan-first. Maelstrom’s Howling was led by a personality, ruler-focused. That ruler was Aria Fellstrider’s mother.

Gwelin Fellstrider, the Hurricane herself. Her partner had been known as the Tempest—Maelstrom’s Howling really liked their wind-related themes, probably why they liked Ryoka Griffin so much. Gwelin was aging—well, all of them were—but she could be far more congenial and willing to stand with her foes based on like or dislike than the Seer of Steel.

They just had one problem…Niers had killed Torast Fellstrider. True, true, that was twenty-seven years back before either one had been leaders of their Great Companies. They’d put a lot of water between them, but they were never going to be, uh, friendly.

Aria didn’t even remember her father. She’d grown up with other Centaurs as step-fathers, but Torast…they told stories of the brash, charismatic leader of Maelstrom’s Howling and his battle against the smallest [Strategist]. Sometimes, Niers seemed to feel bad about it and addressed Gwelin with softer gloves when they met at formal events.

…Sometimes. Not now.

“So the reason Maelstrom’s Howling can’t get off their hooves and join the battle is because it’s ‘not fun’, Gwelin? Dead gods, the Lizardfolk have more spine than you do!”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Astoragon. If you want to talk cowards, have your pet squirrel go out there and kill some monsters. I haven’t seen her do anything since Jungle Tails nearly killed her.”

“Big words for someone who hasn’t even put on her horseshoes to see the Dyed Lands. Or can’t you make the run south in your old age?”

“Want me to bring a herd and find out, Astoragon?”

Aria was standing there, caught between outrage at how Niers was speaking to her mother, the leader of her company, and nerves. She kept trying to interrupt, but Niers was shouting back.

“Jungle Tails is going to come up and put the lot of you in saddles if you don’t fight them off! First it’s us, and the Eyes of Baleros company, then it’s you.”

“You’re the Titan of Baleros. You handle it. You’ve become the Great Company they were. If you can’t handle it, I’ll watch your company crumble and then sweep the board with the Seer of Steel.”

Gwelin’s voice had gone quiet, her crackling tone soft, instead of screaming. That was how you knew things were bad. Niers halted as Aria licked her lips. She didn’t remember the Nagatine Empire or the last time the Eyes had gone to Jungle Tails, but she’d heard stories.

“Mom, maybe—”

“Silence, Aria. The adults are talking.”

The Bannermare shut up. Niers glanced at her and bristled.

“Your daughter’s got better instincts than you, Gwelin. Fine, you want to see my company crumble? You can. Just know that if we die, you’re in a position where Jungle Tails can’t be stopped. When it comes to that, I’ll ask them to go for you first.”

“If you want our help, then pay for it. The Eyes won’t get to their temples. If it’s just your land, then—”

Niers disconnected the call, then kicked the scrying orb so hard it rolled off the pedestal and landed on the floor. Aria protested.

“Niers! You can’t speak to her like that! She’ll never help unless you ask—”

He pointed at her, and she glared, but Niers relaxed after a moment.

“I’m not a commander of a smaller company, Aria. Your mother’s my peer. I don’t care if Maelstrom’s Howling has endured for millenia. She forgets that. I’ve put my warnings out there. If your company and the Iron Vanguard want to ignore me, well, I tried.”

“Ever heard of tact?”

The Bannermare tossed her head, and Niers rolled his eyes.

“I know Centaurs. If I don’t go right back at her, she walks over me. If I come at her with any real fire, she gets offended I’m so prickly. You’re the person I was trying to convince. Talk your mother into helping out more, Aria. You’ve seen how bad the Dyed Lands can be. Believe me when I say this is just the first wave. Literally, the most desperate, low-tier monsters.”

She fidgeted, surprised by his sudden admission. He wanted her to convince…? Slightly flattered, the Bannermare trotted over to the map on the table.

“I saw the kid that Ryoka pulled out of there, and that alone means I’d rather burn all of the Dyed Lands, but you’re certain?”

“Let’s just say I have…intelligence from inside the color swarms.”

He spoke, and she eyed him.

“Even our best [Scouts] can’t get in far. Wait, I heard you hired a Named-rank team. Have they found worse?”

He shrugged, and she wished she could read him.

“Just take it on faith and my instincts, Aria. This is going to get worse. Right now, the ‘blue’ wave is slackening. Green’s coming at us next, and that’s going to be annoying…”

“All my [Strategists] say that we’ve done so much damage that the colors are receding. They’re measuring the amount they push out and fall back, and it’s like the tides. They’re retreating.”

“Oh, sure. They burned the energy of this lot out. That just means ‘this wave’ is weakening. When your first army gets smashed up, what do you do as Maelstrom’s Howling?”

Send fifteen more if we want to. Aria didn’t like that line of thinking. She protested.

“The Dyed Lands aren’t that big—”

“They couldn’t have sustained this many monsters already from a sheer geographical perspective. They’re bigger on the inside. I’m telling you, Aria. Talk to your mother. I’ll give you as long as I can, but if you don’t, you’re forcing my hand.”

“To do what, exactly?”

Niers stood over his maps, eyes flicking up to her. He smiled, and she grew nervous despite the fact that she’d seen him beaten and bested over the years.

“Something unpleasant.”

——

The Forgotten Wing company kept up their offensive against the Dyed Lands’ blue wave. In fact, they began pushing a bit. Not just moving the frontlines forwards to hold the monsters, but making incursions into their territory. Striking deeper before withdrawing. Niers had their formations advance, still under the three-colored lights he insisted on using.

The result was more fighting. Eirnos could not see why he was doing this unless it was to harvest as many of the blue monsters as possible for their hides and train his forces up. Certainly, his ‘full-board’ army was fighting with extreme cohesion. And the day did come when her forces were called upon.

Not for a full battle on the front. Rather, [Strategist] Vler contacted her with a priority message in the middle of the night.

“Iuncuta Eirnos! A force of Azure Beasts has broken out of our containment and outrun all our interception groups! They are bearing down on the village of Xivdees! Just northwest of Illgrem!”

She cursed as she leapt out of bed.

“Does the Titan have forces there?”

“A garrison, but not enough to halt them. He is formally requesting the combined forces of Fraerlings to destroy and repel the monster incursion!”

Fraerlings were one of the few groups that could potentially make it. Eirnos was calling for every flying mount they had and teleportation spells in moments. She raced for teams of Tallguard, who had been waiting for this moment, and they flew.

The village of Xivdees wasn’t that big, but then neither was the group of wounded Azure Beasts. Barely a hundred of them had performed a nigh-suicidal rush to bypass one of the armies containing them.

But a hundred…for Fraerlings, it was an avalanche of bodies. Eirnos landed as she barked orders.

“Tallguard, take up formations around the village! Rooftops, and I want Rozcal’s Crelerbane ready to drop on top of them!”

The heavily-armored Fraerlings would distract the Azure Beasts. Eirnos also found a young Selphid running towards her, panting.

“Are you the Fraerling reinforcements? I am [Captain] Ygre, and I have two dozen soldiers at your disposal, Iuncuta! We’ve fortified as best we can, but if you need us to shift them—”

When she realized she could have him move the simple wooden and dirt barricades, Iuncuta tasked Shoike with that. She was surprised; this garrison would have been wiped out if her people hadn’t arrived. But the Selphid, for all his clear nerves, was smiling.

“The Titan of Baleros wasn’t going to leave us out to dry, Iuncuta. I knew we’d have help.”

How many times had that belief in the Titan, that promise, gone unanswered? Eirnos’ jaw clenched.

With the Tallguard, she swore she’d make good on that promise. They had barely minutes; the Azure Beasts came for the village, trying to devour the frightened inhabitants in their homes.

It was—

——

“A mess. How’d you fare, Iuncuta?”

“Suboptimally, Niers.”

The Fraerling blinked at him the next day, and she could still hear the curious silence, feel the pop in her ears.

Vortex Bolts firing and creating black holes that sucked everything in. Fraerlings tensely calling out.

“Crelerbane Armor is engaged. Climb them—”

“They’re moving too fast to hit, Iuncuta.”

“They’re breaking into the houses. Tallguard Squad 1, activate your Signim! [Mages], [Mass Slow] spells! Now! Get me—”

It wasn’t her first battle. But defending a bunch of Tallfolk? That was new. Eirnos was unhurt. The same could not be said for her command. Niers put down the brief report she’d written on the flight back.

“Three deaths.”

“It’s an unacceptable number, of course. Without homing shots, the Vortex Bolts had to be deployed as denial-of-area attacks. When using Signim, Tallguard were committed to combat where their survival could not be guaranteed. I will be submitting combat analyses to all the cities, and if you have any commentary on how to adjust our tactics, I will accept them.”

Three brave Tallguard. Eirnos waited, part of her not wanting to know if there was some tactic that would have saved their lives, but Niers just read the report again, then pushed it back.

“Given the amount of time you had, I think it’s within acceptable ranges, Eirnos. Not pleasant. I’ll give the report more thought later, but I’d call it as close to optimal as we’re likely to get. Now…tell me frankly, how is morale? How likely are the cities willing to engage in this level of attrition, or are any deaths beyond the pale?”

He sat forwards at his desk, and Eirnos’ jaw tightened.

“I regard this as a personal failure, Niers.”

“Well, my Great Company loses more people on garrison duty where they never see combat, Eirnos. I’m asking whether I can count on the Fraerfolk to keep doing this.”

She had to actually think on this, which annoyed her, but in the end, she came back with—

“The cities understand this is an operation against the Dyed Lands themselves. Mass-casualties would be considered…largely unacceptable. But deaths in the line of duty would be understood, if shocking, I think.”

“The Tallguard will need to recruit more than their usual. Expect more deaths, Iuncuta.”

He was not unsympathetic, but she felt that annoying sense he was treating the Fraerlings like a rookie group. Unused to bleeding. She wished that didn’t ring slightly true; Tallguard tried to never lose anyone.

A war. He was more worried about whether they’d abandon him than deaths.

——

As it turned out, Niers did have feedback for her. When they met later, after the dead had been sent back to their cities, Niers had a proposal for Eirnos, but the opposite of what she wanted.

“No Vortex Bolts. My outline is to have one backup squad armed with them for emergencies, but I’d prefer Elemental Bolts. One or even two tiers lower.”

“That will increase attrition rates, Niers.”

“Yes. But I know how fast Vortex Bolts are manufactured. Unless there’s been some revolution there, supplies will not last the duration of this campaign. My proposal is to arm all Tallguard thusly. Secondly, I would like you to choose the city with the best capabilities and request that they cease all other manufacturing for the war effort besides Elemental Bolts. Two cities, ideally.”

“Are you mad? Allotments aside, the cost in alchemical and magical supplies—”

He interrupted her.

“Supply lines. They’ll need them set up city-to-city. Feed them all into the best one and we’ll have ammunition sorted.”

Now, Eirnos was getting that prickling feeling on her back. She’d been sent to keep an eye on Niers, but this…

“You want to dictate the output of cities?”

“Should I not? Isn’t that under your authority?”

In theory, yes, but the idea of that kind of order was unprecedented to Eirnos, and she said so. Niers’ response was calm.

“We’re at war, Iuncuta. This is good strategy. If the Fraerling cities are not willing to do this, I’d rather not put the proposal out at all. I trust you know how they’ll respond.”

He was watching her cautiously. A man appraising his allies and seeing how hard he could push them. Eirnos folded her arms as she imagined the fighting, the cities who would balk, the justifiable fear they would become part of a coalition.

The knowledge that Jungle Tails had hunted down their kind. She weighed this, eyes closed, before speaking.

“Is this what you did with your cities before the Tallfolk attacked?”

Her eyes opened the slightest fraction so she could see his face. Niers stared down at the documents in front of him. He never lifted his head.

“Yes. This time, I trust you’ll hide better. Can I count on your people, Eirnos?”

She flipped her eyepatch up and rubbed at the empty eyesocket for a while before replying.

“Yes.”

——

Three more full-scale incursions had come and gone before anything changed. Fighting inwards, hauling bodies back to behind the lines, resetting formations as reserves replaced exhausted mercenaries who cheered, devoured food, drank, and fell asleep. Days of rest—then another push forwards. It almost became a routine before Niers met a wall of the Azure Beasts on the fourth push and gave the order.

“All forces, advance!”

He pursued the wave of blue monsters he’d just broken into the blue haze. They expected the Titan to stop, but the order to halt never came. And then—then Balsam was swearing at the Titan.

The tricolor lights shone into the blue haze as the entire world of colors shifted. The tribe of blue reacted to the Forgotten Wing’s presence like a storm. They drew back, and Niers exhaled.

“Ah, that’s good.”

Then they were on them, bursting out of the blue haze, leaping wolves, charging beasts, diving mantas and birds, and he was giving orders.

“Skeldriv, [Thorn Formation]—Iuncuta, give me aerial support!”

His army was engaged, using the tricks they had learned against the enraged monsters, but Niers flung up a hand. He was using his [Battlefield Awareness] to survey the horde coming at him. Ensuring he wasn’t being flanked. Then he chopped a hand.

“Make way for the Shoreaxes!”

At last, the order came. Relieved Lizardfolk leapt aside as the units that Niers had held back all this time strode forwards. The Shoreaxes carried massive battleaxes and walked in heavy armor.

Gilded horns, scars from their battle.

Minotaurs.

Venaz strode with them, expression set behind his helmet. If he had been surprised to find so many Minotaurs in the Forgotten Wing, he had quickly fallen in with this unit. They had been waiting patiently, drilling and practicing while the Lizardfolk did the fighting.

Minotaurs. Finding more than one or two Minotaurs in any force besides the Empire of Minos was nearly unheard of aside from maybe Rhir. But the Titan had the Shoreaxes and a few more units.

For defeating Queravia, the Gambler of Fates, and his efforts against the King of Destruction and Goblin King, he had been awarded a great honor by the King of Minos: the right to hire any Minotaurs who wished to join his Great Company. They didn’t even have to be Beriad. They were, like every species who joined his company, just mercenaries.

But these ones had seen more battle and strife than most armies of Minos. Niers himself advanced towards the front lines and shouted.

“Strategist Venaz!”

The Minotaur jumped and glanced at him. Niers pointed ahead.

“You once told me that a company of Minotaurs with axes could face and defeat any foe, overcome any obstacle! Show me.”

He saw Venaz’s eyes widen behind his helm, then he lifted his diamond greatsword overhead. The Minotaur roared.

“[Unit: Enhanced Strength]. [Unstoppable Advance]! [Break Their Morale]!”

Niers added his Skills.

“[Vanguard of Terror]! [Giants on the March]. Wipe them out.”

The Minotaurs moved forwards, and they were a foot taller with the first step. Another foot with the second—Balsam swore and moved back as he fell into shadow, and the Lizardfolk began cheering.

Niers watched, heart like thunder, as the Centaurs under Jirem stampeded, calling to be unleashed like their peers. He knew the Fraerlings were staring at the giant Tallfolk who met the Azure Beasts and threw them back with the first swings of their battleaxes. One of the charging rhino-hippos hit a Minotaur and slowed—then four Minotaurs threw the beast backwards, and he saw the animal try to run.

Sometimes you had a clever strategy, a novel trick. Sometimes—and sometimes, the Titan knew, you just hit the enemy as hard as you could.

The Shoreaxes kept swinging, shrugging off the claws trying to drag them down as long as the Skills empowering them lasted. When their momentum slowed, Niers ordered Skeldriv forwards. The Armortraitors were firing nonstop as he tore westwards, going against the ‘flow’ of the blue color.

“Push! [Battlemages]! Grand Magus Veern, give me everything you’ve got. Clear the field!”

They advanced. Step-by-step when the Azure Beasts attacked, but as they broke the waves and inflicted casualties, the monsters fell back, and the Forgotten Wing company advanced for up to half an hour before the next wave came, and they halted to break it apart. Not into the Dyed Lands, but westwards.

Niers could see the blue thinning, giving way to that green wave that would be next. He heard his speaking stone chirp as he rotated in another group of his rear lines.

“Keep Captain Balsam on the front. I need his Skills. Vler, what?”

“Titan, you’re on the news. Scrying spells activating. Want me to block?”

“Don’t bother. Grand Magus, keep those [Light] spells up. Venaz, another wave! Break it!”

——

The astonishing advance of the Forgotten Wing company seemed to catch even the Dyed Lands monsters off-guard. But after four hours of on-and-off fighting, Niers had kept one force in his army completely in reserve.

The Centaurs. Jirem’s people were baying for blood. A few of them had even ridden closer to demand to be used; even Marian was tossing her head from her observing position next to the [Commander].

Only Jirem was staring at Niers, and the Titan met his eyes again as they broke through the Azure Beasts and into the green.

“Parasites in the air! Fliers, pull back! Fullhelms, forwards! Veern, [Flamewall] spells! Push the walls forwards and incinerate everything!”

His [Mages] were running out of mana, and his people, Jirem’s group excepting, were getting tired. Plus, Niers knew that the Azure Beasts were forming up behind him. He had forces keeping the area clear, but their window was closing.

However…the green wave wasn’t strong here. His company only had to advance three miles, burning the green parasites and letting the Dullahans cut through them, before he saw what he wanted.

Cleared ground, an exit to the Dyed Lands’ monsters. Niers had only gone a bit into the monster’s territory. Then he’d cut left, at a right angle, and gone…

Straight out the other side. Into another no-man’s land, where charred ground baked black showed him a killzone where the Jade Swarms were being kept at bay. No real fortifications; with an enemy this dense and numerous, you just destroyed everything and put your forces under all-encompassing barrier spells.

“Like…that.”

The first glimmer of glowing half-bubbles of light in the distance caught Niers’ eyes. Instantly, he lifted a spyglass and sighted down it. He saw, in the distance, a group of very surprised figures pointing his way.

They were bunkered down, [Mages] mostly, with emergency groups of warriors and archers, but a lot of [Mages]. And Medusae; their eye-powers would be invaluable against this foe. Lamias, Lizardfolk…no other species.

“Wait a second. Those aren’t our lines. Those are—Jungle Tails!”

A junior [Tactician] in the command tent had come to the same realization as the forces who’d sighted Niers’ army. He smiled as Eirnos spun, and then he turned his head.

“Commander Jirem.”

“Sir?”

The Centaur had snapped to attention the moment he’d seen the Nagas. Niers pointed a finger.

“You are to rendezvous with Strategist Evergloa. We’ll have her location and details sent directly. Remember your code-phrase to confirm information sent and received. Take your riders. I want this frontline gone. Hit their supply lines and then break. Your discretion.”

“Sir? But that’s Jungle Tails’ blockade against the Dyed Lands—”

Marian was peering ahead, and Niers snorted.

“And they’ve been so good about not attacking our forces either. Like this is some genteel war. Jirem! On my signal!”

He lifted his hand, and the Lizardfolk [Mages] were chanting, preparing spells. They, no doubt, had enough firepower to blow his army to bits in case of emergencies. Niers’ finger stretched out.

“[Battlefield: Even Ground – No Magic, No Luck, No Skills, Only Strategy]. Centaurs, charge.”

Across the ground, every spell and barrier winked out. The mostly-[Mage] forces froze as Jirem blew a horn. At first, the Centaurs streamed forwards slowly, at a trot, then their hooves became a thunder as they lowered their spears, began whooping and screaming. Faster and faster, breaking up into groups to hit the Lizardfolk from the front, the sides, an avalanche of flesh and metal and death—

Niers Astoragon flung up a hand as Lizardfolk began to stream after the Centaurs.

“All forces: fall back. We’re done here. Do not advance or you’ll lose your Skills.”

His Skill affected both sides. Niers lifted his fist up and whirled it in a circle. He turned back—then glanced over his shoulder.

“Looks like we pissed them off at last. Full march. Something’s coming.”

He peered sideways at Eirnos.

“[Dangersense] is going to probably go off in five minutes or less. I want us back at our defensive lines in two hours.”

He was wrong; the [Dangersenses] went off in two minutes.

——

Captain Balsam didn’t see the monster at first. Or rather, he did see monsters; just smaller ones. The green was following them, and it was pissed.

“Keep moving! Keep moving!”

He was howling at the Lizardfolk around him as Skeldriv ran. They were fighting a running battle; the damn flying Jade Snakes kept landing on them and biting, but that wasn’t the real danger.

The real danger was the infested monsters, who threw themselves forwards. Even Azure Wolves; they looked like wiggling balls of worms, but still had the unnatural speed. He even saw some Lizardfolk and Dullahans who’d clearly been infested, mindlessly swinging weapons.

Were they using Skills? Were they alive? He roared as a snake-thing landed on his face and tried to bite, eat its way into his brain or something.

It struck into his throat, and he gagged as it bit. He closed his jaws, chomped the thing to pieces, and spat it out.

“Gaaah! That stings! Keep. Moving!”

They were getting overrun despite the Titan’s Skills. Something was behind them, and there were big, big snake-things attacking from behind. Snakes far taller than he was, rearing up and swallowing the Dullahans and Lizardfolk.

“Balsam!”

He saw Plaxima’s Gorgons trying to cut some of the giant snake-things apart. But they were getting swarmed—he sprinted back, cursing.

“Vinegars at the rear, turn and fight!”

The new Lizardfolk who’d joined his company turned and hesitated, but the sight of their captain charging at the snakes made them join him. They hacked, stabbed, and fell back, running, as Gorgons disengaged.

Plaxima was holding off the jaws of a snake bigger than she was. For all her size and her six arms—Balsam swore as he got a good look at this strange Jade-monster.

What the hell is that? It’s not a snake! It was the same in that it was a long, wiggling tendril, but it didn’t have that iconic, flared snake’s head. Nor was its mouth at the end of its body. Rather, it was somewhat down from the end, which was splitting outwards into dozens of mini-snakes, and all of them had mouths—

Seamwalker-ish. Balsam saw the main mouth and all the little heads trying to bite Plaxima. But it had no…teeth. Just a wet, oozing opening. Somehow, that was way worse.

“Balsam—help—”

He slashed the snake-tendril with his enchanted axe, then recoiled; his blow made it tremble, but didn’t cut its smooth, scaleless body.

“The hell—?”

“It doesn’t get hurt! I can’t—”

“Uh—[Super Punch]!”

Balsam’s punch tossed the snake-thing off Plaxima. She recoiled, and the thud made her lower body leave the ground for a second.

“What the—”

Her mouth was open, exposing her fangs, as she turned to him. Balsam just pointed.

“That was my best Skill! Run!”

They ran as Dullahans charged around them, all hampered by the huge, intensely hard-to-damage worms. That’s what they were, Balsam realized. Worms. They weren’t that fast, thankfully, but he realized with the other Jade monsters harrying them…

“We’re not going to get out of here. Call the Titan for help!”

Plaxima had lost her speaking stone. Balsam glanced over his shoulder and swore. He didn’t know where Niers was. He reached for his side.

“Keep going, and tell him we’re being caught. I’ve got an emergency scroll—”

He turned, and she grabbed at the speaking stone.

“This is Captain Plaxima of Skeldriv, we’re being caught by some kind of monsters with impervious hides. We need bailout—”

She glanced over her shoulder as Balsam unfurled something. What kind of scroll did he—she heard him draw in breath.

“[Incineration Dragonbreath]!”

Then her hair, the scales on her back, and her armor caught on fire. The Gorgon screamed, rolling, and someone yanked her up.

“Damnit. You okay, Plaxima? Stop staring, you idiots, and run!”

Plaxima swore at him.

“You hit us, idiot!”

She was amazed he wasn’t cooked himself; smoke was coming off Balsam’s armor and out of his mouth as he coughed and hacked.

“Sorry! C’mon, let’s go—”

He lifted her up in his arms, all four hundred pounds of her with her armor on, and charged past the Dullahans. Plaxima clung to his shoulders, speechless.

So that’s why he’s one of our best [Captains]! Did they issue scrolls like that to veteran officers or had the Titan given it to him special? Because she wanted one of those. However, after ten minutes, Balsam let her go, and she had to slither forwards; the super-worms were still coming. She hoped that [Healer]’s note saying he was clean of Yellow Rivers was accurate, because she owed him that drink.

——

Niers Astoragon grunted when he heard Balsam had pulled his rearguard out of the fire…with fire, probably. That’s why he’d called for the man.

He was setting up a welcome for the green monsters, which included a full pass of Oldblood Drakes, a fresh group of [Mages] with fire, and even a pair of his famous Chess Towers.

The mobile fortifications spat a rain of death down and wiped out most of the Jade Swarm coming his way…except for the worms. Those were different.

They died, but they died hard. Tier 4 magic barely did the damage it should, and anything lower than that seemed to utterly fail. Enchanted blades, crossbow bolts…Niers grunted as he watched the last of his forces, including Balsam, sprint behind his lines.

“Iuncuta, mind firing some Vortex Bolts? I think this is a good use case for them.”

“I concur. Tallguard! Get me a [Sniper].”

The Vortex Bolt killed the nearest burning worm neatly, but Niers didn’t want to waste them on the worms; there were hundreds. Instead, he had his [Mages] firing spells to figure out which ones did any damage before finding out how to harm them.

“Shoreaxes, go over and bully that one. [Mark Target]. I need more Centaurs. Give me a lure away from us.”

The worms were…not very smart. Centaurs galloping in front of them attracted them away from his forces while one was lured over, and Venaz and some Minotaurs strode forward. A minute later, Niers had a report.

“Professor, my blade cuts these things astonishingly well. Relic-class weapons do work. But we can kill them, just not fast. They might not get scratched, but hitting it hard enough ruptures all its insides. This one vomited blood and died.”

“Excellent, Venaz. Alright, bring the lure in, and let’s give your arms a workout. I want cloud spells…”

Cloud spells didn’t really seem to work in all the ways he wanted; the worms didn’t seem to be phased by a lack of vision because he couldn’t see any eyes, but they moved slower in the smog, suggesting they had to breathe or something. Meanwhile, the Shoreaxes and Gorgons winnowed the group, beating them to death one-by-one.

But they just…kept…coming. And they seemed to be getting bigger too. They’d already started out massive, but Niers’ suspicions were confirmed as the [Dangersenses] got worse. He heard Peki shouting.

“Professor! We see the main monster! It’s a worm-ball!”

At first, he thought it was just another Peki-description since she was bad with words, but it was actually quite apt. The cause of these worms was, in fact, a giant ball of worms, all seemingly interconnected or growing around a huge center mass. It was massive, the size of one of the Chess Towers in height, and the primary worms coming off it…he swore.

“Alright, back it up. Disengage and fall back! It’s coming at us slow—Medusae, buy us more time. We just ran into the green’s apex predator. At least, in this area.”

No one had reported anything like this, and Niers instantly rated it as Named-rank…or worse. He’d have taken a hundred Hydras over this thing. But he had wanted to meet it.

“Looks like we made more of an impression on green than blue, sir.”

Cameral was panting, having come with reserve forces, and Niers shrugged.

“Well, that’s to be expected.”

“Why…?”

Niers didn’t answer. He was drumming his fingers on his pants.

“Okay, we do this conventionally. Every Dullahan unit is to retreat to Fallback Point 2. Wounded likewise. Just for fun, give me a [Long-Ranged Volley] of crossbow bolts on it…now.”

Crossbows fired, and he raised his spyglass.

“Yep. [Flamestrike]?”

A flash of fire; the thing moved through it without even pausing. Niers sighed.

“[Grand Lightning]?”

After his eyes cleared from the flash, Niers tried one last time.

“Iuncuta Eirnos, Vortex Bolt, if-you-please.”

This time, he was really hoping for a result, but the Tier 6 spell detonated, and he saw the all-consuming black void open on one of the worms, close, and…

“Hairballs and cats.”

That came from Eirnos. For the first time, the Fraerlings were visibly disconcerted. Niers spoke calmly.

“To all command and anyone watching: Vortex Bolts, a Tier 6 spell, leave no damage. I repeat, no damage. This is a Named-rank threat. Fall back.”

It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t quick. It certainly wasn’t that smart. But it did not stop, and the worms it kept disgorging advanced as the Forgotten Wing retreated. The one mercy was that neither Jade Swarms or Azure Beasts followed; Niers had a few of the green blasted from afar, and the blue seemed to have visibly drawn back in the face of this monster.

“Sir, General Diomedes is days away from your location, but he wishes to inform you he can pick up the pace. I have bound spells ready, and three Named-rank adventurers have volunteered to join your forces if you can delay it…should I begin evacuating cities and garrisons?”

Niers glanced at his speaking stone, then up at the sky.

“You sound stressed, Vler.”

“You’re grinning, Lord Astoragon. You have a plan?”

“I have a plan. It might not work, but I have hopes. We’re pulling back to Jikneq Forest; it’s barely a hop and a skip from here. Get me the Sea Shepherds on a speaking stone, at their convenience. No rush on that. Now, let’s make our students earn their levels, eh?”

He had Cameral, Venaz, Kissilt, and Jekilt running a retreat while Umina picked off worms abandoning the main swarm. Niers’ forces were retreating just slowly enough for the main worm thing to follow, but it meant they had to fight the progressively-tougher worms. Niers watched, using his Skills sporadically, but he knew they were all watching him, waiting.

“Ah, Captain Balsam. Glad to see you made it. Any input on fighting the foe?”

Balsam was marching past him, covered in soot and blood. Not his own. He glared.

“They’re tough. Some escaped, uh, even my emergency scroll.”

“Really? Even the emergency scroll I gave you?”

“Yessir.”

Niers grimaced as the Minotaurs fell back, unable to bludgeon one of the worms to death. Now they were reaching the edges of the forest. He glanced at his war map.

“Ah, Jirem’s still rampaging. I gave him doubled supplies for a reason, you know.”

Balsam eyed Niers’ card-face as the Titan stood there on the edge of the forest. Soldiers were streaming out of it, fleeing the worms knocking over trees, and when the worm-thing got to the edge…both grimaced.

“Ew. Is it…corrupting the trees?”

It seemed to be literally eating them, then spitting them out with green goo attached. Niers sighed.

“Either it’s laying spawn or just turning them green. That’s gross. Iuncuta, Captain Shoike, Rozcal, greetings. Enjoying seeing a real monster up close?”

The three commanders were not happy. Rozcal was fingering his battleaxe as Shoike kept ordering Tallguard to maintain positions around the worm ball. Eirnos was visibly tensed.

“If you launch your artillery spells, I can direct them like at the Gathering Citadel, Niers. This is the worst monster I’ve ever seen.”

Niers shrugged as Balsam drank some water and spat out more smoke, thumping his chest.

“It’s…up there for me, but it’s not very threatening. The slowness is a huge weakness. I suspect it’s way tougher than I want. I’m glad everyone gets to see it on scrying orb. They see the threat, now.”

He was too casual. Rozcal interrupted, face red with adrenaline.

“Niers. Say the word and I’ll try to cut it up. I’ve got Adamantium, and at least we’d know if—”

“No, Rozcal. I have two suspicions. Damn it, I wish Wil were here. I could test his sword…Venaz, front and center!”

The Minotaur came running over, and Niers nodded.

“Find the biggest worm you can in the trees and hit it with your sword once. Don’t get cute, don’t try to kill it. Just cut it. If you hear crackling, drop everything and run. I don’t have a long window.”

The mass was fully in the forest, now, and Niers muttered.

“I’m going to call it…the Ball of Worms. No, that’s terrible. The Jade Wormmass. The…”

“Are you naming it? We have to find out its weakness! It will keep reproducing unless we take it out now! What is your plan?”

Shoike was exploding with nerves, but Niers just kept watching as the monster entered what he judged to be around the center of the forest. He raised his speaking stone to his lips.

“Just waiting, Patrol Captain. Alright. Veern, mass-teleport anyone who’s in there out now! Flamecloths, front and center. Light it up.”

“Light up…?”

Shoike turned to Niers, then to the forest. Balsam’s head rose, and he exhaled slowly. Niers just stood there. For a few seconds, he saw and heard nothing, but…

It wasn’t the biggest forest around. Baleros had lots. But this one wasn’t attached to a larger forest or a lot of greenery, and he could see the ground around it had been denuded of plantlife. For miles, in fact.

Miles and miles. All the work the [Soldiers] had been doing, and he’d needed thousands of hands to pick grass and shovel dirt. Even then, he decided he needed a few [Rainfall] spells in the surrounding areas.

After all—when he saw the red flames rising from the center of the forest, the edges, they spread fast. Very fast. A tree in front of them went up like a new alchemical match, leaves, wood turning into pure flames.

“What the—”

Shoike recoiled from the heat as Rozcal swore, and Eirnos turned to look at Niers. Just look. The Titan murmured.

“You’ve got to prep only a few areas with enough oil, dry wood, and drying spells. Then, once you get it big enough, the rest goes pretty easy, even in monsoon season.”

“You—you planned for—you’re burning—”

The Patrol Captain was horrified. One of the few things that Fraerlings feared beyond overwhelming numbers of Tallfolk or monsters was a forest fire. You couldn’t control that blaze. Couldn’t put it out.

But you could use it. The Titan saw the flames sweeping through the forest, slower than he wanted, but fast enough. Within moments, the heat was forcing everyone way, way further back, and the [Mercenaries] running from the forest were gasping. Pointing.

“I don’t see any birds or animals fleeing the fire. What did you do?”

It was Rozcal who noticed that first. He turned to Niers, and the Titan spoke.

“I sent for a [Druid] at the start of the campaign. They evacuated the forest.”

And they were as happy about it as a man with a Creler on their ass, but they did it. Niers had prepared this card for just this moment. He was glad it was a slow-moving monster; an Azure Beast would never have held still this long.

The only question now was whether or not this worked. The flames were roaring upwards now, and the sound…

Oh, the sound of a forest burning was a roar like no other. You could probably see it for countless miles. Niers coughed as the smoke reached him. The heat…

Beyond a Tier 6 spell, probably. The smoke, suffocating. And yet—he saw movement in the forest.

The first of the worms burst out and writhed on the ground. It was visibly burnt, green skin scorched, but it wasn’t dying—yet. It was spitting out green blood, and Niers grunted.

“Vortex Bolts, snipe those bastards. I don’t really want to take any alive.”

Shoike herself took the shot. There were only a few patches of forest left unscathed. Niers saw another shape moving, and Shoike aimed—

Venaz burst out of the forest with a pair of Minotaurs, blurring under his [Haste] spell as he ran, back aflame. Veern sprayed him with water, and Niers shouted.

“Venaz, you idiot! I told you to run when you heard crackling!”

“I got lost, sir.”

The Minotaur was shamefaced, but he showed Niers something—a hunk of still-pulsating flesh. The Minotaur panted as he pointed at the dead worm, who hadn’t even been fully killed by the Vortex Bolt, just mangled.

“My sword works. Cuts through—I won’t say perfectly, but it does cut as well as a steel blade on a regular hide.”

“Interesting. Flamecloth Commander, front-and-center!”

Another figure ran up, and Niers nodded at a Stitch-woman with the weirdest body anyone had ever seen. She looked…well, if an Earther had been present, they would have said ‘rubbery’. Her skin was too-smooth, glossy, and thick. She and her entire command were heavyset and wore masks over their faces.

“Lord Astoragon?”

“I can see trees falling. The main body is still alive in there. I need your forces to slow it down.”

In that inferno? Are you mad? Cameral stared at Niers, then remembered the name of this unit.

Flamecloths. Stitch-folk made with a certain cloth and who used one element and one element alone.

Flames. They were a terror against their own species, and Niers had created this group for this purpose. He saw the Stitch-woman salute grimly.

“We can only try to keep it back, sir.”

“That will do, but I have two things to offer you, Commander. The first is that I need you to paint every single weapon…no, damnit, it’ll just burn off. Grand Magus Veern, I need you right here!”

The [Mage] came running over.

“Lord Astoragon, I am exhausted—”

“Color spells. The highest-tier you have. I don’t think it has to be green, but just in case, make it green. Iuncuta, your [Mages] too. And a [Flame Resistance] spell on Venaz and Captain Balsam, the best you’ve got.”

The Drake had been trying to sneak off, but he froze when Niers spoke and glared, silently begging—too late. Niers spoke crisply.

“My suspicion is this: these monsters operate under color-rules. There are spells that have the same effects, and my students found historical examples of other monsters with the same rules as well. Only a strong ‘color’ can harm them. That’s why Venaz’s blade does so well. And perhaps…”

The Minotaur raised the diamond greatsword of Serept in his hands. He blinked at the beautiful blade, made by the half-Giant [King], and whispered.

“The Windblade of Serpisel. Did he know that colors were important when he forged them?”

“Probably. The most vivid colors you’ve got, Magus. Flamecloths, engage. Captain Balsam, just keep Venaz alive.”

“I’d better get paid well for this, Lord Astoragon.”

The Drake glared at Niers, his sapphire gaze sparking with genuine anger. Niers beckoned him over.

“I’ll pay you this much to keep my favorite Minotaur student alive—”

He pretended to whisper in the Drake’s earhole.

“Your illusion’s slipping. Right eye.”

Balsam closed his right eye that looked a tiny bit…red. He nodded at Niers and jerked his helm down lower. The Titan stood back.

“Keep it in the flames.”

The Stitch-folk entered the forest as the crashing and billowing sparks rose higher. Niers stood there, hands folded behind his back, wondering how long a forest like this took to grow. He spoke to himself just once.

“Colors. We’ll need color-based experts to fight in the heart of the Dyed Lands if more such monsters arise. Shame I don’t know any color-based experts.”

He laughed to himself. Just laughed until he noticed Cameral glancing at him quizzically. Because the Dullahan probably knew most of Niers’ irregular forces in the area, and there weren’t color-based experts on the books. Niers walked over and patted the Dullahan’s hand.

“That’s just a bit of humor, Cameral, lad. If this doesn’t work, we’re all running, by the way.”

He waited, eyes on the inferno.

——

The Adventurer’s Guild, after some fierce debate, decided to call the monster ‘Endless Worms’ after a vote on television. They classified it as Named-rank+, not quite acknowledging if it was a calamity in and of itself.

But then, the world didn’t get to see if it could level cities without being stopped, because the forest fire burned and burned, and its spawn died.

A few made it to the edges of the forest, but they were already badly burned. The largest still needed finishing off, but Venaz’s greatsword and Fraerling-grade weapons could kill it, especially when painted green.

The main monster…no.

The Flamecloth’s Commander had to march out of the fire twice—speaking stones just burnt up in the heat—to report.

“The beast cannot be harmed, sir! Strategist Venaz’s sword barely cuts it.”

“Well, that’s not good. Any signs it’s burning up?”

“No, Lord Astoragon, but it is moving slower.”

“Keep it in the heart of the flames as long as you can, Commander.”

The Flamecloths played a game of deadly tag in the inferno that forced even them to rotate out due to the heat. However, Niers hadn’t just been banking on the flames to do the job of killing this beast for him.

Some monsters were immune to non-magical damage. Some monsters regenerated almost anything. But you know what he had found most monsters did, Seamwalkers excepted?

They breathed. A forest-fire was the place where oxygen barely existed. The fighters in the blaze had to wear enchanted masks that provided them with air and kept the smoke from killing them.

Invulnerable or not, the worm-mass slowed and slowed as the flames finally died out. By the time only smoke was rising, Niers could see it, a slumped, sooty-green mound in the middle of naught but ash.

Presumably, it would soon wake up and start killing again; it was too much to hope that mere oxygen-deprivation would kill it that neatly. So Niers rasped.

“Right. I need a barrier and a void of air around it. Right now, and this entire area is now a containment zone.”

Fraerlings led the spellcasting, and there was a pop as they sucked the oxygen out of the area, activating a massive circle they’d laid while the fires were burning. Niers exhaled when, after half an hour of watching, the worms failed to stir.

Then he turned to the [Reporter] who was waiting to interview him. His voice was shot from shouting, but he had a report from Jirem that he was advancing and raiding across Jungle Tails and that he’d effectively collapsed their front lines. Add that to this victory, even if he wasn’t sure the monster was dead, and Niers managed a smile.

“—As you can see, we have this thing contained, even if I rather suspect it might not fully die even if we keep it in there for months. We’ll see. If we can hack it up, or kill it, we will. But our main goal is to keep it immobilized.”

And to see if it’s valuable in any way. That hide could make amazing armor…if Vleyda can process it.

This was also a good time to mention the value of the armor since any idiot with eyes would instantly wonder if they could use that wormhide as armor. Assuming it wasn’t infested. Niers cleared his throat and went on.

“I’m going to make some claims based purely on my instincts as a [Strategist] and 2nd-in-Command of the Forgotten Wing company, if I may to my audience. Firstly: each color probably has a super-monster like that in its ranks. Secondly—there may be more. Many more in the Dyed Lands themselves. This is the real threat of Baleros, and I’ll pit this against any monster coming out of the New Lands—just so long as you give me popcorn and make sure it’s nowhere near civilization when they fight.”

He smiled into the camera, then turned his head. Cameral had a glowing speaking stone. Niers nodded to the [Reporter].

“Keep clear of the containment zone or my forces will shoot you, reporter. No one is going to breach this area. Now…if you’ll excuse me, I have a [Druid] to talk to.”

The Sea Shepherds were on the line, but at least Niers had found a Circle that he preferred to talk to. Every time you burnt a forest down, you had to talk to [Druids].

——

As it turned out, the Sea Shepherds were more understanding about everything than he’d hoped. Niers had a fairly convivial chat with a Druid Godreiad, who his sources put as being head of an entire fleet of them.

They talked about Jungle Tails, Niers’ connections to Izril and The Wandering Inn, and a little girl named Mrsha, and then Godreiad rendered his judgement on the entire forest thing. He leaned over the table, his scarred arms tensing a bit.

“I cannot speak for the other Circles, but I will repeat this conversation to them, Lord Astoragon. We are not…pleased by the destruction of the forest, but you evacuated the forest’s children, and the Dyed Lands…”

He paused.

“…they are a clear threat, as that monster indicates. So. You are not forgiven or pardoned, for that is not ours to give. But we understand. Know that we are watching you, though. Counting. You do as you believe you must. So shall we.”

That rather ominous-sounding statement was as close as Niers thought he’d get to a pass on the forest. He bowed his head respectfully.

“I’ll have another forest planted, Druid Godreiad.”

“Were it so easy, Lord Astoragon. I must go, but should you enter the Dyed Lands, my classkin would be…interested to know what is occurring there.”

“Do you have anything you could tell me, Druid?”

Niers was vaguely surprised the Sea Shepherds weren’t in Baleros already; they took on disasters and enemies of nature, and this was surely an ecological disaster, but the man hesitated.

“I—regret that we are occupied. What is clear from watching is this: they are fleeing something.”

“Fleeing? They fight and attack in good organization—at least, the blue does.”

“Animals migrate and fight with cunning, but this looks like flight to me, Lord Astoragon. They are prolific—even, perhaps, superior to other animals. But they would not come with such desperation if they were merely expanding. Take that for what you will.”

They left it at that. Niers sighed, stroked at his beard, then cursed.

“Damn. I forgot to ask what the penalty would be for burning two forests in a year.”

Probably best not to inquire. At some point, the [Druids] would stop warning you and very smoothly move into slipping poison into your tea or blowdarting you with a seed they’d cast [Overgrowth] on. Nasty lots. He knew better than to annoy them. You started killing [Druids] because they were lawless lawgivers of nature and you never stopped.

Niers sighed, then felt at his neck. He needed a drink. And he wished…

Well, he wished that were the end of it, but it wasn’t.

——

He was still waiting.

That was the impression Balsam got when he called upon the Titan for personal congratulations. Everyone thought it was because of his bravery in battle, and it was…he had a date with Plaxima when they got on break, which was a very nice thing that Balsam didn’t discount.

But he was still unhappy about nearly dying to the flailing monster raging around in a damn forest fire. However, when the Drake stomped into Niers’ tent and saw the Titan drinking only water over dinner, he realized it wasn’t over.

“Sir.”

“Oh, don’t stand on formalities, Balsam. Sit. Eat. If I’m that damn scary, you can go and take the food.”

The Drake bristled, sat down, and ate before he realized he was being manipulated. He scratched at his burnt scales, and Niers glanced at him.

“Any wounds?”

“Nothing bad. Just damn bruises from the worms. The Minotaur’s braver than I am. He’s badly burnt, but he’ll probably level or something.”

“He’s already reported that he has. Venaz is brave. I’m glad he’s tempering that with other good qualities. The Shoreaxes spoke well of him, and they were highly skeptical of him due to that [Captain] of the Iron Vanguard he injured. Him earning their trust tells me how far he’s come. They’re not Beriad, you see; last year, his stubborn pride would have gotten him in trouble.”

Balsam had no idea what all that was about, and Niers noticed. The Fraerling drummed his fingers on his leg.

“You really haven’t got any insights into the Dyed Lands, Balsam?”

“Nossir. Nasty. Never seen the like.”

“No…prescient thoughts about Jungle Tails and the situation there?”

Balsam thought about it as he patted his mouth.

“Nice trick hitting them with their pants down. Don’t let them get the Eyes of Baleros. Last time was bad. But you were there to end it.”

“I was there to end it, yes indeed. Did you ever serve with them?”

“…Maybe. But Nagas in their company ask too many questions.”

Balsam got shifty again, and Niers sighed. Both glanced around and realized the other was doing it. Niers waved a hand.

“I covered for you with the Fraerlings. One was worried that he couldn’t enchant you properly.”

“Hah. I haven’t met many Fraerlings. That lot’s interesting.”

Balsam smiled for a moment and then just sat there. Breathing in and out. Alive. He cleared his throat with a pressing question.

“…How much are you paying me?”

Niers didn’t get mad. He didn’t shout or demand things from Balsam…no, he demanded a lot, actually. But if the Drake gave Niers anything, it was this: he demanded things that were within expectations.

No great wisdom. No wondrous deeds of heroism or ruination. Perhaps he expected or hoped for them, but when Balsam failed to materialize anything of the sort, the Titan just accepted it. It made Balsam feel guilty. Niers inspected his fingernails.

“I can do two thousand gold pieces.”

“For fighting that thing?”

The Titan raised his brows and glanced up.

“You were barely in danger, Balsam. I kept you out of most of it.”

“I—but—a Gold-ranker would earn more than that, easy!”

“Gold-rankers take more risks. Be real, when were you in any true danger?”

The Drake grumbled and cursed, but he had to admit that even if he’d taken a big punch from the ball o’ worms, it probably would’ve only hurt or broken a bone at best. Niers added after a second.

“I’ll throw in a carriage ride to the nearest city with fun for the next time you go on a date. And all the best restaurants and inn.”

“Fine. Can I get it for tomorrow?”

Balsam perked up a bit at that. Niers wrote it down and told Balsam the gold would appear in his Merchant’s Guild account, and that was that. A silence fell as they ate, and after a moment, Balsam rubbed at his right eye.

The illusion spell, if it wasn’t kept up right, would reveal a ruby red eye as beautiful as any color in the Dyed Lands. The same with his ordinary red scales, but he often worked dirt into them. Niers wondered if he had wings or if the spell he used to change forms just made it so they weren’t there. The Drake—well, he was obviously a Dragon—muttered after a while.

“Look, I don’t—I really don’t know anything about any of that. I was just there when the Eyes were used and got stolen. Y’know? I was working as a [Fisher] in some shit-terrible Selphid village for like an entire decade when it was really bad.”

“Sounds miserable.”

“Yeah.”

Balsam took a long drink of ale and wiped at his mouth. He spat, as if trying to wash the taste of fish out.

“I nearly went crazy. What a miserable place. You know a kid that grew up there ran off and became a Gold-rank adventurer? She’s still alive, I think. I visited, oh, four years back, and everyone was proud of her.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Uh…Ivirith. Jelaqua? She’s in Izril.”

“Small world.”

“It’s pretty big, but yeah. Things go in circles.”

Balsam kept drinking, then, after a moment, worked up the nerve to ask another question.

“I, uh, I heard about Tulm a while back. Did he…you know. Did he get anyone I…?”

Niers wore a pained expression as he stared into the distance.

“The Frost Dragon Lazcrene ring a bell?”

“…No. Damn. How old was he? She?”

“I’m not sure. Young. Young enough to still be in Dullahan territories or the area when Tulm found them. Possibly they needed the cold to survive.”

“Shit. And they gave him a big class just for that?”

Balsam crunched down on his food until he realized he’d eaten his fork. Niers shook his head. He stared at something in the distance, and his expression was pained.

“It’s hard, of course, to find anyone. Sightings are mostly rumor. Any creature with scales and wings gets called a Dragon.”

“Right. Half are probably magical Wyverns. But have you met…?”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Niers shrugged slightly.

“Would you like to meet them, if I did?”

The Dragon patted at his mouth with a napkin, growing even more cautious. Not excited.

“Not sure we’d have anything to talk about. Unless there’s one who’s…old. I mean, old and knows things.”

Niers got what he meant, and he grimaced.

“Most do not, in my experience. I met one who was forty-one years old. Barely able to speak; utterly unused to, well, any kind of civilization.”

“Damn. Yeah, that—damn. Sounds about right.”

This was probably the only continent where you could find a place to actually hide. Terandria was too nosy; Chandrar’d kill you, and open sand wasn’t that easy unless you dug or something; and Izril—Izril was complicated. Too civilized to hide, anyways. Balsam waited, then coughed.

“The kid. What happened?”

“She was barely able to speak the common tongue when we met. I tried to convince her to change, but she was…territorial. You know how hard it is to help someone who has no reason to trust you. What am I supposed to do, put them in a cage? Failing that…and impressing the danger on them is even harder on someone who doesn’t understand how many enemies they were born with.”

Balsam’s own grip tightened on his cup.

“Yeah, I bet.”

After a moment, Niers continued since there was nothing else to say, his voice becoming matter-of-fact.

“Tulm’s killed two Dragons that I know of. I don’t know who the other one was. Neither one had any…connections to their roots. Like, say, the Dragonlord of Flames. Do you know him?”

Balsam glanced up, then kept eating.

“Nope. But you hear rumors. Never met him. Never…well, I never went searching past Baleros. He’s a real—Dragon.”

“As opposed to you?”

Balsam shrugged.

“I just make a living. I’m not here to be a hero. I just want to get paid. After this, I’m going to have to quit if people keep looking at me and asking what my level is.”

He began getting angry at Niers again, but the Titan waved a hand.

“I’ll take care of it. You’re a tough Level 36 [Lineholder Captain] I like because of your name. I’m giving you artifacts; I’ll give you a fancy, nice one for saving my precious student. It’ll glow and everything.”

Balsam relaxed and nodded. That was all he wanted. Enough pay to live off for a long time, and enough to keep him from going crazy. Nothing else.

There was nothing else. He didn’t know if there were more of them, or his heritage. A few people he’d met ages back had thought they should have something important like that.

…But that’s only because they’d wanted it. Some had gone off to find it. He’d never seen them again. Balsam burped, wiped at his mouth, and Niers nodded at him.

“This campaign will end soon, Balsam. Then I’ll rotate you. Somewhere useful. Guarding a friend, maybe.”

“Guard-duty. That sounds nice and easy.”

“She’s a good cook, too. Or a decent one. She cooks, I’m told.”

The Dragon smacked his lips. He’d take that. He nodded at Niers, and the Titan smiled.

“Another cup, Balsam? I feel like I owe you a few drinks.”

“I suppose I could take another. This stuff kicks decently well. What’s it called?”

“Rxlvn. Antinium. I thought you’d like it. Incidentally, have you ever been sick?”

“Uh…I think when one of those magical plagues was going around I was sick for like a week.”

“Fascinating.”

——

Jungle Tails whined about the ‘unacceptable attack’ of course. About how Niers was compromising safety for everyone by attacking them. They had their [Spokespeople], fancy Nagas, though none of their High Command—Niers might have tried to snipe them just to get it on camera.

Most of the day was spent arguing over the ethics of his attack and showcasing the damage Jirem was causing—but mostly, the effects of Jungle Tails’ defensive lines being broken.

Like a dam bursting, the Jade Swarms were pouring outwards, and the further they got, the wider a range they had to spread out. Harder to contain. Yes, a dam was a good analogy; people took for granted how many monsters the Great Companies were holding back.

Of course, the scrying orbs showed civilians fleeing villages that should have been evacuated, the green snake-parasites attacking desperate soldiers trying to fight them off. Of all the monsters, green might be the worst for your average soldier to battle; there were just too many to swing a sword at.

After the sixth scene of monsters attacking civilians, Niers turned off the scrying orb he’d been watching. He was sure his students would watch longer, but he had work to do. He knew what he had done.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t ever be numb to it, but the Titan had to admit that sometimes he felt like the scars over his heart had become hard as rock. When a [Reporter] shoved a ‘microphone’ in his face and asked for his comment, he had one off-the-cuff reply.

“We’re at war. I didn’t see you covering the cities Jungle Tails has sacked or what they did to ‘traitors’. They should have evacuated the entire region months ago, same with Maelstrom’s Howling and the Iron Vanguard. Yes, I attacked them. They had no second defensive line, and they were not ready for me. I am not going to be blamed for incompetence on my opponent’s side.”

That might have been too direct, but Niers was tired of the posturing already. He deployed a counter-[Diplomat] after a few more pointed remarks, but unguarded comments aside, Jungle Tails wasn’t going to pull a victory of popular sentiment out of the military defeat.

His rebuttal to Jungle Tails was that he hadn’t seen them drawing out a super-monster to fight. And, combined with the ‘leaked’ information about the value of the Azure Beast hides, the other Great Companies were reassessing the Dyed Lands threat.

Well, the leak was more of a fashion collection that a certain Gnollish [Armorer] hit the markets with. She sold a bare dozen sets of blue armor she’d managed to make at incredible prices on auction. Then the next week she sold another dozen. Then three dozen…

They caught on after that and presumably got mad for overpaying so much, but Niers needed to make some money. It kept him busy.

He reformed his forces up on the front, went back to fighting the Azure Beasts, and he was wondering if the colors would shift to green after all. If so, it’d be an easier fight. Reports indicated that the entire color had fallen back and was visibly lagging in its rotation. No doubt incapacitating their leader had done a lot of damage.

It was as Niers was writing a letter to The Wandering Inn inquiring about a few matters, wondering when he’d get a fun new student to bully—teach—when it happened.

The thing he had been waiting for.

It came out of the whirling clouds of azure haze like a shooting star. A spinning comet shedding particles of yellow light. It passed straight over the heads of the soldiers, who thought at first it was some beast.

But the magic just kept shooting out into the sky. Niers didn’t see it at first—then his personal speaking stone began to blare. Iuncuta Eirnos, who was writing her reports to the cities, leapt up with crossbow in hand as her speaking stone made the same sound.

A voice spoke after a beat. Vler’s.

“Emergency flare spell detected! Lord Astoragon, are you in danger?”

Niers’ heart leapt into his throat. He swept the letter off his desk and rose. Eirnos turned to him.

“That wasn’t us. Niers—”

The Titan tapped the speaking stone.

“I know what it is, Vler. Prepare bombardment spells if needed. Iuncuta, I want every single Tallguard ready for combat. Full alert! Mobilize!”

He stopped just once, and the Fraerling woman saw Niers reach for something on his belt. Her good eye widened as he popped the sealed cork on the bottle and drank it.

Then the Titan was shoving his way out of the tent flaps. The world always looked so damn small—

He nearly ran over Umina and Kissilt, who were joking as they brought him some reports. They stared at him.

Up at him. The six-foot tall Fraerling shoved past them. He’d drunk the Signim. And he was running.

“To arms! Get up and mobilize!”

——

Captain Balsam and Plaxima emerged from their tents in the camp, both naked and holding weapons, when they heard the alarms going off. These weren’t ‘we are engaged in battle’, polite alarms.

These were get out and fight alarms. Balsam swore as he saw people running and heard the order.

“Mobilize! Get to the front!”

By the time he arrived, the Titan was striding down the line of [Soldiers]. Striding—because he was the Titan.

Tall, person-sized. Hence the nickname that sometimes came true. That alone told Balsam something bad was going on. But where was the enemy?

No one but Niers seemed to know; the Azure Beasts had actually been inactive. Niers was pacing in front of his commanders and strategists.

“Wait for the second flare. I need a precise lock on the coordinates. Hold—”

He pulled out another bottle, downed it, and someone protested.

“Lord Astoragon, that much Signim is—”

“You can drink six before you’re in trouble. Shut up and wait.”

“Six?”

A disconcerted Fraerling watched as the Titan spun. Balsam was getting Vinegar company in order when he saw it. A second spell. A yellow [Flare], but far more powerful and ornate than he was used to. It punched out of the mists, and Niers pointed.

“There! [Mark Target]. Company, forwards. Magus Veern, light spells on max. We are going in!”

His front ranks began to march—the Titan ran ahead of them. He lifted a hand.

“Full march! [Speed Raid].”

This was not a regular advance. Balsam felt the lines of soldiers transition from a walk into a jog. Then a run. He felt speed Skills activating and gulped.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

They were heading straight into the center of the blue. But the Titan seemed at least prepared for this.

“Magus Veern, I want you to coordinate your timings with every single [Mage] on the front! Save all your mana for me unless you’re in danger. Keep those light spells up.”

He pointed to the stupid tricolor lights that Balsam had grown sick of. They glowed in the blue mists as his people cut through, and figures were darting down, spreading their wings as they slowed just overhead.

“Sir! You wanted us?”

Peki. She flew down as a panting Dwarf charged into the ranks of—Balsam twisted.

That was the Dwarf! Merrik! He saw a second army behind them. Then the Dragon began to get really worried. How many damn people was the Titan…?

“Peki! Keep your squad low; there will be fliers in the mist, and we can’t provide air-support. Shield the Tallguard, understand? Merrik, you’re with the Fullhelms on the left. Venaz, you have full authority with the Shoreaxes. Take our right flank and keep them off! Skeldriv is going down the center. Prepare to engage!”

Despite the shock, his army was moving into formation. They knew what to do, and when they heard the first shouting, they moved practically by reflex.

“Azure Wolfmen!”

“[Acid Cloud]—Fullhelms!”

Merrik swore as he fumbled a modified helm onto his head and promptly lost several inches of beard he’d failed to seal off, but the Dullahans hit the monsters, and the rest of the army barely slowed a step.

“Fliers in the air! And on the right!”

“Slingers, cover us from above! I want two volleys, both with [Stop Projectile]!”

They were using the tactics that they had mastered against the Azure Beasts, but it was confusing. Both for them and the enemy, Balsam thought. The blue was not expecting this push, and meanwhile…

The light was getting brighter. Magus Veern was shining it, vivid as he could, running with a staff held high. It was Umina who caught up to Niers, riding a horse for all she was worth.

“Sir, I’ve got your Centaurs. Where do you want us?”

The Titan’s teeth were bared. They were eating up ground as they advanced at a reckless, no, insane pace. They were running straight into monsters in the fog, not just blue. But he was having wind spells clear the colors, and—he pointed.

“There. If I point, then kill it and rejoin our forces. If you get lost, fall back.”

“Yessir! What am I searching for?”

Surely, he had to be seeking out the flare. But the Titan just grinned at Umina.

“You’ll know it when you see it. Hey, Merrik. Want to see a magic trick?”

Umina was riding back towards her command, breathless, when the panting Dwarf, wiping blood off his axe, caught up. Merrik clutched at his side.

“What? Sure…I love magic tricks. What…?”

They ran into the enemy again. But they were, in the end, just monsters. Their danger was in their numbers, the ability to spread out. Against one of Niers’ armies, much less two, the [Soldiers]’ Skills could punch through them. If you were willing to bleed for it.

“Stygian Stalkers!”

“Umina! Kill them!”

“White Ghast! White Ghast—”

An invisible monster attacking from the sides. The poison-spitting monsters, and blue speed-demons. But the Forgotten Wing Company just kept advancing, practically at a charge.

Balsam himself was getting a bit tired from the rapidness of the pace. But the Titan just kept running, and the third flare passed overhead. He adjusted course, seeking out its origin.

Four flares. Five—

How far were they into the blue territory? Was he mad? They were going to run into the super-beast he claimed was there! But you could see their progress from above. Scrying spells actually witnessed the tricolor glow of the Forgotten Wing company parting the blue sea from above.

Now…were the monsters running from them? Balsam saw Azure Wolves howling and retreating, even swore he saw some Stygian toad-things hopping away. The thunderous footfalls of an army running, the Titan’s aura—

None of this had scared the Dyed Lands monsters before. The Jade Swarms had faced Maelstrom’s Howling, and the Centaurs hadn’t done more than repulse them. Balsam’s eyes flickered to the bright staff that Veern was holding. The other lanterns, torches, and orbs glowing with the same colors.

“Huh.”

Then the Titan came to a halt as, at last, five full hours since the first flare had passed, he found what he was looking for. He was a small man, now. He’d been forced to stop drinking Signim and use it sparingly to avoid magical backlash, but the Fraerling promptly drank a potion and leapt off his pedestal.

“There you are.”

His army came to a halt as hundreds, no, thousands of Azure Beasts turned. A full wave of them, huge beasts that Balsam had never seen before. Turned—but did not attack. Instead, they backed up as the light from the Forgotten Wing company bathed them and illuminated the place the flares had come from.

Balsam gazed up and saw the things that made him remember why he hid. The things that had sent his people into hiding. The first thing the Titan had been, and what he’d never forgotten he was.

Adventurers. They were sitting on the side of a big, blue hill with a purple river running from it. There were just six of them. Two Lizardfolk, one Naga, a Selphid, a Human, and, in front of them, daggers buried in the hill she’d killed…

A Squirrel.

The Squirrel. Foliana was drenched in the blood of the monster she was sitting on, licking at her fur. She glanced up as Niers came to a halt, panting, and her army found her.

Three-Color Stalker and the Azure Beast who had been leading its color. Murdered in its own territory. The [Rogue] raised a paw and called out.

“Mm. You’re late. You said you’d be here ‘right away’. Anyways. I found some new boots.”

She poked the dead monster, whose open jaws had purple foam around the edges. Niers Astoragon exhaled, and suddenly, Balsam understood why he had been waiting. The stress the Titan hadn’t acknowledged.

He sent her into this? The world’s greatest [Rogue] to kill…

There was an army of Azure Beasts between them and Foliana. But they were just surrounding the corpse of their leader, and Niers’ hand came up.

“Magus Veern. Amplify your light spells with all the magic you have—now. Instruct every [Mage] across the frontlines to pour their magic into the spells and throw them forwards.”

“Lord Astoragon? At once. [Resplendent Illumination]!”

The Lamia swung his staff, and a thousand orbs of light rose, filling the air with the iconic colors. Foliana’s eyes.

The light burned away the blue haze around them. Showered the cringing Azure Beasts in foreign colors, and they gazed up and beheld the army.

Thousands of colored monsters. Just like them—colors that had slain their leader.

Color-language. Niers had been showing them the only thing they understood all this time, carving an identity into their minds. After all, the enemy had to know you to fear you.

Foliana didn’t move as she saw the colors bathing her bloody fur. She tilted her head, confused, but smiled slightly.

Like a member of the audience waiting for the [Magician] to reveal his trick. All her faith in her oldest teammate. Now, like a conductor, the Titan of Baleros raised his hands.

“All forces will advance at a walk.”

Balsam was in the front rank, and he walked forwards slowly, eyeing the huge Azure Beasts.

They could have attacked. The damage they would have caused from so close was extreme. But as the light bathed them, the blue monsters fell back. They whined. They felt the Titan’s aura covering them. They saw the Squirrel Beastkin sitting on the body of their leader.

They ran.

——

The light cut a swathe through the entire color of blue. A swirling arm of the maelstrom of contained colors was cut apart by that glow.

The Dyed Lands monsters peered up, and now two great monsters were dead. They beheld the glow of a new adversary shining at them. And they backed away.

They fled the light that the Titan of Baleros had taught them to fear. To be wary of. To respect like a color of their own. It was not the first time they had been taught to fear a color.

All Niers had needed to do was gamble his Great Company on a single act. He met Foliana, who sat with the Named-rank team of adventurers he had hired. There should have been seven of them.

“Bad luck? I told you to retreat if you couldn’t do it.”

She shrugged. Aside from her comment for her audience, she’d watched him spooking the Azure Beasts off. She played with her paws as he stood there, and the other adventurers began to slide off the monster.

“Mm. It was faster than I thought. Nice armor, though.”

He hoped she’d level. That would have been reason enough to risk this. Levels. But Niers grimaced as he saw the secret signals she was giving him.

We’re all poisoned. He kept his face straight.

“You’re getting old, Foliana. Iuncuta Eirnos, get a [Healer] to look at the adventurers! We’re not done here.”

There were no attacks on his company at the moment; the Azure Beasts were in full retreat, pulling back towards the Dyed Lands themselves. Ideal, but in the distance, as their color faded, he saw green hesitantly swirling to the west and black clouds north of him.

“Time to earn my pay. I want [Riders], Centaurs. Veern, you’re in group one. Umina, group two. Peki, take your wings, every Fraerling and [Mage], and those light spells. Ride into the other colors, but don’t get out of range of any other group. Five hundred yards—”

[Light]. Centaurs and people on horseback galloped forwards as Garuda and Fraerlings shone the light. Foliana watched as a Tallguard [Doctor] dropped out of the skies towards her.

“I don’t get it.”

“It was going to be ‘poo-brown’, but I vetoed you doing that.”

“I never said that. Brown is stupid. I think there’s no brown monsters here either. They don’t like that color.”

Niers half-twisted, frowning.

“Really? Damn, I should have used it, then. Just think as if colors are a language, Foliana. Dead gods, you should understand it better than most with your eating Skill. They see colors, and they assume that means a rival monster.”

“Mhm. I know that. That’s basic, dummy.”

He rolled his eyes.

“But they don’t project light. What they see is what they get. They generate color by their presence; that’s why we get these lovely damn clouds of it. Foliana, what happens if they see a sea of these new ‘enemy’ lights coming at them?”

He was smiling like a Demon, a monster, and a bastard. Foliana’s weary head rose, and she saw it, then.

“Mm. Lots of enemies. You liar.”

That’s the illusion that Niers was creating. The tricolor sea of lights he was organizing was sweeping at the green and black colors, and Niers held his breath. If this didn’t work…

No. He saw the colors were moving. A rain of those damn green snakes visibly began flying away from barely two dozen riders holding [Light] spells. They recognized the forces that had killed their leader and were retreating.

So were the Stygians. Even if they hadn’t lost their super-monster, it looked like the pink-yellow-green mass of lights coming at them was twice, or even three times, as numerous as they were. Niers shouted into his speaking stone.

“Don’t advance too fast! Now, I want you to move exactly as I am going to direct you. Vler, I need some coordination from above—”

“I see it, Niers. Consider me amazed. This is me clapping. Yay.”

Foliana’s eyes narrowed as she tried to work out why even Vler was so impressed. Then she glanced at Niers and thought of the most despicable, underhanded move she could make with the ability to bluff monsters from the Dyed Lands.

Foliana developed a smile too.

——

At first, they didn’t understand what he was doing. Oh, they got the part about the colors. Everyone did, and many a [Strategist] was either kicking themselves or getting yelled at for not figuring out this ‘obvious’ concept.

It would take months for the other Great Companies to establish an identity with the Dyed Lands monsters, especially since you had to have the exact right colors or the monsters weren’t fooled. Stealing the Forgotten Wing’s color-combinations would probably be faster. Every group would just take Niers’ hard work, and the Titan had to know that.

But, from above, the wave of his colors were spread outwards. They moved astonishingly fast, pushing through the blue color they’d cut in half, and flowing out. In reaction, green and black visibly shivered and withdrew. Unwilling to fight what they perceived as an overwhelming force.

Of course, these were colors already vying for space with the other swirling colors. White, yellow, red, all the other colors—except brown—were bunched up, and when one color shifted, the other ones had to as well.

Monsters fighting each other as they forced each other’s territories back. Seeing the tricolor lights and giving way to the perceived superior foe.

And the Forgotten Wing company just…kept…going. They had pushed both green and black well clear of where they had been initially when Aria Fellstrider suddenly realized what they were doing and began swearing.

“No. Oh no. That bastard. I’m going to kill him. Everyone up! Get up!”

She raced out of her tent, abandoning the scrying orb, and began shouting. She hit a rune on her saddle, and a full camp mobilization alert was triggered. Lizardfolk and Centaurs sprang up in alarm.

“Aria? What are you doing? Are you intending to attack as well? We’re not ready!”

Archmage Uenoix, attached to her unit, was remonstrating with her as he glowered. But she wasn’t seeking glory. Her eyes were wide with outrage and worry as she pointed at the map.

“That bastard. He was complaining to mother about us not helping. He knew he was going to—he’s not just pushing them away, you idiot! He’s sending them at us!”

The Centaur whirled, and it took him only a moment to realize what was going on. Niers wasn’t just ‘repulsing’ the colors coming out of the Dyed Lands. He was squeezing them. Forcing them away from Forgotten Wing territory and up against each other.

What happened when you squeezed a container with too many liquids inside? Every child had experienced it once. Aria saw the colors bulging outwards. The crimson she’d been fighting, the stygian black heading their way, green and yellow on Jungle Tails’ side, white visibly overrunning an area she knew the Iron Vanguard was supposed to be holding—

The colors exploded outwards.

Slowly. Slowly, but given the relative size of the clouds from above, she knew that on the ground, monsters were racing forwards, unwilling to fight each other, unable to go anywhere else, and so rampaging outwards a second time.

Straight into Maelstrom’s Howling, Jungle Tails, and every other region except the ones the Forgotten Wing held. The only company who wasn’t instantly in their path was the Iron Vanguard; even the Gazers’ forests were in the path of a color!

“We—we have to repulse them. Color magic. I’ll prepare mass illumination spells—”

Uenoix was trying to salvage this, but Aria shook her head.

“You can’t stop them now; they’ll just fight us, and the pattern is gone. He—everyone up! We have to stop them!”

She was galloping the next minute, swearing, heading back towards the northern plains. That unspeakable monster. That Fraerling—because no one had helped him, he’d decided to make it every other company’s problem.

Especially Jungle Tails.

——

“Dinosaurs.”

“What?”

“They sort of look like dinosaurs, don’t they? Not all of ‘em, but that super-thing looks like a dinosaur-wolf.”

It was just a passing conversation in the United Nations company in Talenqual. Paige turned to one of the new Earthers they had found—or rather, who had found them.

Everyone was sitting and watching the images on the scrying orb, most in dead silence. Kirana had stopped putting out food on the tables. Ken was speaking on a stone to people calling him.

Paige…just wondered if the weapons she’d made would do any good. Against that many monsters?

She saw a roaring, blue hippo-thing biting through a steel portcullis. Tearing it off, then blurring wolves pouring into a city. There was no sound from above, but she could see [Guards] trying to halt the monsters coming up the stairs.

No smoke or flames from above, either. Normally, she had this…image of a city burning when it was sacked. But these were monsters. The only flames came from people trying to stop them. And there were so many.

Blue. Green. Yellow. Red. White. Black…after the sixth color, Paige made to turn the scrying orb off.

“This isn’t what we should be watching.”

There was an advisory playing for viewer discretion on the scrying orb. You didn’t see much—detail—but city after city was endangered.

Not all were falling! Several were fighting off monster attacks, and those were triumphant, but Paige just thought of the tiny man who had saved Geneva and who Daly, Ryoka, and that Erin Solstice were with.

He really was a Titan. He moved a piece on the board and cities burned. She got why he had done this; his territories were, by and large, unaffected by the monsters fleeing his forces. But—

The only person not affected by the scenes on the scrying orb was the new kid. He came from the literal future, 2025, and everything he carried was, like, a decade in the future to Paige. He even felt…different. So much time passing. She glanced at him, and he was half-smiling.

In disbelief.

“It doesn’t look real. Is it…? I mean, that’s crazy.”

The vision of the Dyed Lands spreading, the colors striking outwards, made it seem less immediate than it was. Or maybe—Paige realized this kid just hadn’t ever seen a monster up close. Hadn’t ever seen someone die.

“Tobi. Tomorrow, can you organize a hunting trip? Just bag some game for us, okay?”

Tobi blinked, looked over, and nodded at Paige. Killing an animal on a hunt didn’t ‘ground’ new Earthers that much. Making them skin and gut the animal did something.

You’ll see.

Paige wondered what the Titan was thinking about all this. He had to have known what he was doing. What…what was his expression?

——

Umina and Venaz were marching back with cheering Lizardfolk, but the cheering had died down when the first images on the scrying orbs came in. Like Paige, they had the same question, and they saw the little Fraerling man riding on his pedestal next to Foliana, who was still sitting on the Azure Beast, watching the scrying orb.

His face?

Calm. There were crow’s feet around his eyes, which tightened when he saw cities vanishing. Now and then, he just nodded to himself.

Like a man who could see the future watching it come to life. Surprised only by the way the details twisted. They searched for guilt, for remorse, for pride, anger, or any of the qualities that would make him more of a person.

They found nothing. Just a face like a Golem’s, unsurprised. His eyes flicked up once, and Umina shivered as Niers glanced at her. He nodded at her, as if her reaction was equally normal. Not wrong. Just—he had seen it all, in his mind. Weighed it on a scale only he knew, then made his choice and set out to bend the world until he found this future.

That was her Titan’s other face. And yet, as the monsters spread out further, the Titan kept his eyes on the scrying orb.

He did not stop watching.

——

Niers’ forces were pulling back to their lines, and he was giving rapid orders, when General Diomedes appeared.

He walked down the road, and the trembling of his footsteps and his sheer size made all who had never seen the Cyclops stop and gaze upwards in awe. Even the super-monster of the Azure Beasts, being rolled towards the base on logs—it was too big for any Chest of Holding—was small compared to him.

He inspected the corpse that Foliana had insisted they take—as if Niers would leave it behind—and nodded. Even by their standards, it was an impressive kill. Foliana had been chattering in Niers’ ear so much about how she wanted her new armor to be Fraerling-made and all the upgrades she wanted in it, she’d barely been herded off to the healer’s. He hoped that was a good sign.

The Titan waited for Diomedes in his command tent. [Soldiers] were moving in columns past him; not to reinforce the defensive lines, but to take the fight to Jungle Tails. Capitalize on their advantage. Diomedes halted, then knelt that they might speak, though they were still ant and giant.

The Cyclops had a disapproving gleam in his one huge eye, as he always did when Niers did something unspeakably advantageous.

“I see now why we’ve abandoned our western holdings so thoroughly, Niers. I wondered why our forces were following such odd evacuation routes. Do I presume I am to lead the counterattack?”

“Yes indeed, General Diomedes, though I intend to push forwards and establish another layer of fortifications closer to the Dyed Lands. I suspect our color-identity will be useless once the monsters are exposed to too much of it. And I suspect this is only the beginning, as I said.”

But he’d cleared a path to the Dyed Lands, and now the value of the monsters was apparent. Just…kill them first.

The other Great Companies were not going to be happy. Diomedes squatted down, glancing at the tent where Foliana was being treated. He rumbled.

“A masterstroke, as always. Doubtless, it shall give us the time to reverse our fortunes, and I see the colors have a worth beyond mere beauty. Coin will do. But—Titan to titan, I must say it was cruelly done to the many who will suffer.”

Niers exhaled. Diomedes really knew how to take the victory out of a moment. General Gloriam would have been pouring Niers a drink.

“Fair enough, Diomedes. But once again, Titan to titan—I’ve counted the cost of Jungle Tails securing the damn Eyes. They wanted this war, and I have scrupulously, painfully, not razed their temples, killed their peoples, or broken this land even though I knew they were still there. Now, they’ve come back and expect, what? A gentle war? An honorable battle? How many times must one company make the same mistake?”

He spoke with true bitterness there. A man contemplating dark deeds and knowing that he must not do what he felt might be necessary.

Titan and titan. The Cyclops rested on one knee and did not envy the burden on Niers’ shoulders, which he had long seen was heavier than his. Diomedes rose, nodding.

“I await the next chapter of your tale, a spellbound reader, a member of the audience not sure whether to applaud or gasp, a soldier. To war, then.”

He nodded at the War Walkers who continued their advance, and Niers gazed at the now-subdued colors spread into the distance, a splintering, many-headed beast. But then towards the center, where the light still shone, triumphant, inviting. He murmured.

“Yes. But amidst all our bloody carnage, I hope to be an adventurer. That would be nice.”

Then he went to check on Foliana.

Author’s Note:

Hello, hope you’re having a fun December! Or at least, a relaxing one? I’m off my break, and I have a few notes on the writing of this chapter!

Firstly, this is a classic ‘got it done in one week’ chapter, but it wasn’t necessarily easy. Coming off a writing break is always hard. The brain has to spin back up, and my initial plan was to write the Oelnnox arc. I quickly realized I didn’t have the outlining necessary, and some of the pieces weren’t fitting into place in my head.

…On Monday night. After watching The Conjuring, which I thought would provide me with ample horror-themed ideas. It mostly provided me with a Wikipedia entry on the two real-life ghostbusters and unhappiness. Scary enough in some regards, the movie, but…not that helpful.

Pivoting to writing out the Titan’s campaign meant I was working with the powers of coffee and luck, but the brain delivered a full outline of the chapter, and I had just enough time to edit and post today.

It’s not always that easy. I was prepared to break out the last of my backlog to buy time till Tuesday, but we got it done, and I’m happy—it’s about setting up things or throwing balls into the air. That’s how I think of it. Some people use fancy words like ‘foreshadowing’, but what do I know?

I have plans for this month in terms of the chapters I want to write, and this Baleros chapter I promised from the last poll is among them! Niers’ campaign should not be over, of course; this is just the first step to remind us all who the Titan is and what he can do.

I do have my annual break in January. This year, did I postpone it…? I forget. But I hope to write some strong chapters until then. I’ve worked hard this year, I feel, and I hope to write until the last chapter going out strong, because I do feel like these last few months have had stronger writing. But between family and Christmas and all that other stuff, we’ll see how it goes. Wish me luck, and hope you enjoyed the chapter!

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