Book 9, 26
The avatars soon made their way over, looking almost exactly like the goddesses but with completely different auras about them. While the three goddesses were grand and majestic, exuding auras of inviolable awe, these incarnations were more gentle and charming, approachable in more ways than one. No doubt it was completely intentional.
“Stop your wars right now,” Richard said the moment they walked in.
“What? Why? Our troops just infiltrated Kamil’s divine kingdom; everything there will become ours soon. Stopping the war at this point will just him off easily. We’ll take him down in three months, and all the other divine kingdoms are weak as well. I expect we can conquer one every two or three years,” the Forest Goddess spoke up immediately. Kamil was a lesser god of the desert, which was adjacent enough to her own domain that she would be boosted by acquiring him.
The two other goddesses expressed their agreement, but Richard frowned, “If you’re already through, then you can continue. But three months is far too long, I’m giving you one week, the feeding worms should be able to take care of things by then. Forget attacking the others, go inform your entire pantheon that you’ll have to combine forces to fight off invaders in the near future; these ones are stronger than you’d ever imagine, and they won’t be nice enough to let anyone live.”
The avatars instantly looked horrified, “What do you mean?”
“These enemies are so strong that I have no way to deal with them. I’m... giving up on Faelor,” Richard said solemnly, his words leaving the goddesses pale with fright. If he left, they were likely to fall even without a different enemy attacking.
“Are they really that powerful?” the Goddess of the Hunt asked somewhat foolishly.
Richard nodded his head, pondering for a moment before looking back at them, “You three have been working for me for a while now, I can give you a chance. Transfer to another of my planes, that should let you survive. You’ll have to give up all divinity, and you’ll lose your eternal life, but you can start again as legends and try to light your godsparks there.”
The three goddesses stared at each other in dismay. This choice was both simple and difficult at the same time, the crux of the matter being how powerful these enemies Richard spoke of really were. If what he said was true, then they would leave their divinity behind immediately; who cared for eternal life when it would be snuffed out in a few days? They would do anything to avoid the pure agony experienced when one fell from divinity, a pain of the soul that far surpassed any mortal death.
The Goddess of Spring Water stepped forward, “Your Majesty; if all the gods, kingdoms, and experts of Faelor join together, how likely are we to win?”
“Zero. Your peers are going to be fighting to stall for time, hopefully enough for me to withdraw a few more of my soldiers,” Richard coldly crushed their hopes.
However, there was one tiny spark left in them. “Your Majesty,” the Goddess of the Hunt bowed, “Where are these enemies you speak of?”
“The northeastern coast.”
“Could we witness their might with our own eyes?”
“Ugh... Whatever, do it. But I’m giving you half a month to wrap everything up; turning you mortal will take seven days. I can’t have you trying to leave Faelor before I cut off your connections to this plane’s laws.”
“We will be careful.”
Richard nodded, waving for the incarnations to leave. He then stood in front of his window, staring at the bustling oasis city down below.
Bluewater was currently the most flourishing city in Faelor, and also the biggest one. The urban sections now ringed around half of the lake, with more than a million permanent residents as well as hundreds of thousands flowing through the gates at any time. Most of the people here were dressed like nobles, wearing arrogant smiles as they dealt with outsiders; they were citizens in the capital city of the strongest country in Faelor, automatically making them a cut above the rest. The Crimson Empire was the distribution point for resources from all around.
Richard himself wasn’t someone who ruled by plunder, instead being willing to distribute some of his gains to the natives of this plane. That promise of wealth made people much more eager to develop his lands, coming up with ideas of their own to maximise growth. He was someone who relied on the huge disparity of material availability between the two planes to make his money, so a small difference in price per transaction was completely irrelevant. After dozens of years of development, the citizens of the Crimson Empire truly lived lives of luxury, and Bluewater had become paradise. Citizenship by marriage was even being sold on the black market now for sky high prices.
And yet, all these people were completely in the dark about their impending fates. There was no way the passage could take all or even most of them, so they would be left in a city that would soon turn to hell. The beautiful buildings would crumble underneath raging fires, people dying to a storm of bullets and energy beams. Their deaths would be no respite either; flesh would be cut into raw materials, while he had no idea what would come of their souls. Eventually, the entire plane would go silent and be dragged towards the Darkness, wiping it from the history of the realm of order.
He sighed and contacted the broodmother to ask where the messengers were. Three were already nearing Bluewater, and two more were currently headed north to rescue Gangdor in a few hours. Only feeling calm once he learnt of that, he then focused on the broodmother herself, “So, how can you leave Faelor?”
“Master, I already have the clone in the Forest Plane; if my body is destroyed here, I can simply be reborn afterwards. I do not plan to leave; my drones are the only way to fight off the reapers until we evacuate. Without me, you won’t even be able to withdraw a hundred thousand people.”
He couldn’t bring himself to respond. The broodmother was speaking the truth; with her in charge, the Land of Turmoil was an important stronghold. If she left, it was a supply base that could be raided to reinforce the reaper army. To an existence with countless clones, the destruction of her main body wasn’t the end of everything. So long as she had the resources and time, she would regain her strength soon enough.
Richard eventually nodded, ordering the messengers to stay in the oasis awaiting orders. He planned to make one trip back to Norland to reorganise his family forces, seeing if he could get any allies in the process. He was ready to fight the reapers personally when he returned, to see how powerful they truly were.
......
“Yawn...” Saint Martin rubbed his eyes, “Dear Richard, you really are amazing at picking the right times. Out of all the times we could meet, you chose the moment I fall asleep. Shouldn’t be in your plane right now, trying to figure out a way to deal with those terrifying reapers? Are they so weak that you could find the time and energy to chat with me?”
It was already late into the night at Norland, and the divine child was in his night robes. Richard would have commented on it any other day, but right now he was focused on more pressing matters, “Time really isn’t on my side, I need your help.”
Martin grew a little more serious, “Have the reapers arrived?”
“We’ve seen how they fight.”
“Mm. I did some research as well, and they are virtually unstoppable. Any form of resistance is ultimately futile, even the most powerful families in Norlandic history have failed to fight them back. The most realistic thing to do is to withdraw your troops at the earliest and destroy the Lighthouse of Time...” He paused for a moment to look at Richard’s expression, “The scariest thing is that they can multiply using the resources of the plane they are fighting on, growing stronger and stronger until they are killed. Fighting them is completely pointless, your troops will just die in vain.”
“A dozen people have said the same thing to me, when did you become so naggy?” Richard grumbled.
Martin threw his hands up, “Because it’s clear that you’re not happy with this decision. No one would be, but your current state is unbecoming of a leader.”
“Of course I know that, damn it! I have a sense of priorities, I’ve already ordered evacuation.”
“Alright then, what sort of help do you need?”
“Two things. I hope you can restrain the Sacred Tree Empire from attacking me while I’m engaged here, and I also want to borrow some angels, preferably the three Midrens. I need to stabilise order in the reward point battlefields.”
Martin fell silent for a moment, looking the most serious Richard had ever seen him, “Richard, your request implies that you trust me. I need to tell you something as well; the Midrens are on their way, they should reach earl Barton’s territories in about a day.”
“Barton?” Richard’s gaze turned infinitely sharper. Barton’s territory was close to the Azan peninsula, at a range where an army could reach Blackrose in less than a week.