John had hoped, despite knowing better, that the Eternal Fortress would beco less confusing to navigate with Arkeidos gone. Truth of the matter was that it only got worse. Enchantnts of this magnitude did not break apart instantly even when the central power distribution and the operator were both taken out. Instead, the dinsional warping inside the city-sized fortification turned into an unmappable ss.
After a few short hours of investigation, the remaining mbers of the coalition decided to forego that particular task. The sole exception to this was the Horned Rat. Flaunting John’s direct request, the god was exploring the fortress on his own. Obviously, John wasn’t worried about the Horned Rat but what that scher may gather in terms of knowledge better left uncovered.
The good news was that whatever he did find, he would not be able to take back.
Only John would be able to take things out of the Kingdom and, besides Claire’s core, he had not been able to remove anything from it yet. One of the first things he had tried to do was to give her a new body. By the rules of the system, that apparently had to wait until the Kingdom was closed and the transferral was absolute. John kept her on his person. The inventory would have been safer, but he didn’t want to place her in three days of sensory deprivation. Not that he was even certain she could feel anything in her current state.
The one Sylkarion, the soul-refining device, he was guaranteed to get had not yet spawned in, as he was only supposed to get it upon truly leaving. That left him with only 3 Inventory Slots worth of items to take with him. What they were to be filled with was obvious: as many Sylkarions as they could find.
A whole ten of them were hidden in the sa temple that Arkeidos’ remains were inside of, which made that a quick affair. Each of them took up one of the slots, aning that John would exit with a total of four. One of them would go to the Horned Rat, as per their agreent, and one would be used for Delicia. What to do with the remaining two remained to be seen.
As for all of those that they found and couldn’t take with them, John elected to turn them into scrap tal. A waste of an extrely powerful resource, without a doubt. A resource he did not want to leave in the hands of the people that populated this cave.
It turned out that Arkeidos had been engaged in so selective breeding projects in this cave. Each ti an Ironborn was worthy of ascension, they were given one year to spread their seed down here. The people there were allowed to live relatively simple lives, although they also had to pledge their labour to keeping the enchantnts all over the world running.
It was imdiately obvious that they would inherit the world.
Unlike those misery-addled people on the surface, those who lived down here were well-fed, educated, and of sound mind. Whether the selective breeding had led to any notable increase in power or ability was basically irrelevant, considering the surface-dwellers had been drug-addicts in a practically post-apocalyptic hellscape for a thousand years.
With Arkeidos and the Ironborn gone (so potential individual stragglers notwithstanding), these people who could farm fungus and perpetuate their society would be the civilization to take over. There was no competition. John hated that this was the case. These were the closest to the Ironborn when it ca to benefitting from Arkeidos’ regi. It was a distant second, yet John did not enjoy that those that had thrived under the previous paradigm would be the ones to create the new one.
He could have killed them all. All he’d need to do was to let Nathalia loose on the cave, fill it with fire and molten rock, and watch the entire populace vanish under an ocean of volcanic glass. Two wrongs did not make a right, however, and so all he could do was give these people so rudintary education in modern political theory and strip them of as many tools of tyranny as possible.
John was admittedly doing little of that work himself. With his mana regeneration so heavily diminished, all work that remained and had even the slightest chance of being dangerous was delegated to everyone else. Every last ttle plant they knew about was torn down, every Sylkarion they found destroyed, every enchantnt they spotted made non-functional. Other factions started to create spots of greenery in the desolation above.
They did as much as they could with their three days. Not as much as John wanted. As the Quest text had pointed out, though: for John to reshape this world as he desired, he would have needed years, if not decades. He was having trouble adjusting his own continent of birth according to his preferences. To change the culture of the entire Iron Domain to sothing else would have taken a generation of re-education.
One of the easier matters to resolve, which they did early on, was to murder the kraken horror spawn that was sealed under the glass. Whatever it was, even the baby was able to block Observe, it was a parasite on a continental scale. Executing it on the spot was an easy decision.
Harder was the question of what to do with the mace.
To say it was a powerful weapon would have been an understatent. John would have loved to get it out of the hands of this world and into his own, killing two birds with one stone. Even if he had been fine with leaving the Sylkarions behind to facilitate this, it wouldn’t have been an option. The mace was way too large to conceivably fit into three Inventory Slots and John couldn’t even lift the damn thing. Even if he could have taken it along, it wasn’t going to replace Purgatory.
Since destroying it was incredibly difficult, involving too much strain on Nia, they opted to instead bury it deep under the cave. They threw it into a massive hole together with what of Arkeidos’ destroyed bodies they could locate.
That still left the entirety of the Eternal Iron pillar and the vast resources of the Eternal Fortress untouched. Nathalia could have torn most of the building to shreds. Realistically, anything that John was worried about would have survived such indiscriminate thrashing and everything he wanted to remain, all of the history and scientific texts hoarded in the building, would not.
So, after three days of consistently improving the world as best they could, they just had to accept that this was all they could do and leave.
John used the final monts by having Beatrice fly him all the way to the top of the fortress. Of the platform where he and Arkeidos had fought, only the outer rim remained.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to find up there. Satisfaction, perhaps? The way all of this was ending was not as clean as he had wanted it to be. Falling for one woman had dissolved the entirety of his slow and thodical approach. That this would ripple through the history of this world was interesting to consider.
Although his satisfaction did not run as deep as it could have, he knew that would change in a few hours. Whenever Claire was restored, the ineffectiveness of it all would have been worth it. Besides, there was no telling the future. Even if he had drowned them in education and resources, they could have gone back to bashing each other’s heads in the mont he left. He wouldn’t know either way.
Certain was that he didn’t feel any guilt. The fate of this world wasn’t his to write. Of the coalition forces, a total of six people had perished during the combat. All of them had known what they were in for and all of them had agreed anyway. They had put their life on the line for political clout or the fate of this other world. John hoped it was the latter for all those that had perished. It would have made for much nicer last monts.
While John still considered what ca next for this world, he was teleported out.
“Well, that’s that,” he said and rose off a seat that was still sort of present in the darkness inside the I.D. Gate. It was only him and his maids that stuck around until the end. Even the Horned Rat had retreated earlier.
Stretching, the Gar stepped outside and right into a rowdy festival.
The entirety of the coalition forces had been allowed to stay the past three days. Naturally, after rest had been taken, people wished to celebrate their victory and toast to the fallen. John had provided all of the necessary resources, and now that everyone was finally together, the celebration began in earnest.
John wasn’t even certain if he wanted to participate, but he didn’t get much of a choice in the matter. The oddly common combination of William Brighton and Olaf Strongliver ca up to the Gar and lifted him up by his arms. “You’re coming with us!” the viking declared while William, clearly tipsy, grunted affirmingly.
“Doesn’t look like my opinion on that matters,” John joked, while he was placed at one of the many long tables at the centre of what was, by any asure, an outdoor festival area. There were tents, outdoor bars, openly accessible kegs, restrooms, and even a sizable stage with an integrated screen. All of it had grown over the past three days. With it ca the friends and relatives of many of those that had joined the coalition, eager to see their loved ones returned alive.
The result was a loud, semi-public party. The cheer in the air was contagious.
“Back off, drunkards,” Momo said and shoved herself between the tipsy warriors. “Hand her over.”
“Thank you,” John said to the sassy support and gave her Claire’s core. He would have found an out soon enough to get her sowhere safe, but this was easier.
A large mug was placed in front of him once Momo flew away. William and Olaf then involved him in a semi-drunk conversation. The Gar only listened with one ear, as he was too busy looking around.
Sol was over there, having returned to check on the success of her mission after pulling her physical form back together at Romulus’ side. The sun goddess was sneering at the Horned Rat, who was pouring an entire keg of beer down his throat. Sitting by the bar, Rave was speaking to her parents. Her father had arrived a day ago and so they had so family ti. The other harettes were scattered all over the place. Aclysia and Beatrice stayed by their Master’s side. Eliana was arm wrestling a whole line of people, with tra cheering her on. Lydia was downing a large jug of beer while engaged in talks with so African adventurers. Nia and Alice were patting the head of the Hobomice. Standing behind the bar, Scarlett was commanding chanical tendrils to keep up with the demands of the thirsty crowd. Lorelei and Moira were chatting around the outskirts of it all. Lee was hanging out with her own family. Nathalia was strutting his way, to arrive soon.
The elentals were missing, as was Nightingale. The harpy was currently in the process of bringing Delicia over. John would have been happy to go to her instead, but the goddess of the night had insisted that it was easier that way. Considering all of the other things he had needed to do, he ultimately agreed.
All around was cheer and affirmation. The connections that had been made in the lead up to the fight were made deeper by the mont. Old rivals drank together, even if they weren’t friendly. New money and old blood were mixing with old money and new blood.
In the middle of the conversation John had with the knight and the viking, Nathalia plopped down in his lap. The larger woman managed to get comfortable pretty quickly and purred, “You truly have been worthy all this ti,” before giving him a kiss. Then she grabbed his drink and emptied it in one go.
An hour of rrint passed. Where everyone was shifted around continuously. John found himself amidst so of his loves at basically all tis, while also finding strangers, friends, and future family at any point.
Then, suddenly, the entirety of the party was distracted by a booming sound. Everyone looked up and saw a prismatic teor fall from the sky. The vast concentration of gods and godlike beings ant reactions were instant. While most jumped to their feet, it was the Horned Rat who imdiately did the right thing. With a soft arcane shockwave, he pushed everyone away from where the falling object was about to land.
It turned out to be an unnecessary precaution. The object ca to an imdiate, unnatural halt upon reaching the ground. Six blades buried into the floor, Inkaryl rested at the centre of the party.
The electronic music that bood from the boxes was all that filled the deep silence. John was a bit amused at the general sense of uncertainty that suddenly settled in. There were very few that knew what had just happened. It could be forgiven if people thought the weapon’s appearance was a bad on.
What was unnerving was that the item managed to break the layer between dinsions, but these Fusional armants had so kind of minds of their own. Standing up, the Gar walked to the weapon. “No need to panic,” he addressed everyone loudly, as he placed his hand on the grip. “Seems like Arkeidos’ weapon decided I’m its next worthy wielder.”
As if to underline his words, the weapon shrunk to be more in line with the Gar’s fra. The weapon was by no ans small after that process had concluded. The shaft of lead and cast iron greys reached all the way up to John’s midriff. With the familiar sound of a beating, tallic heart, the jagged blades dislodged from their sockets in the prismatic ring of Fusionals around the Astrotium core, then slotted back into place, each of them assuming the multi-coloured appearance themselves.
‘I suppose my soul is too mixed to give any definitive elent the advantage?’ John wondered. Just by looking at it, he felt there was more gold and silver present than anything else, the colours of the light elent. That would have mapped onto the story others had presented. Not that it ultimately mattered. John lifted the mace.
Well, he tried to lift the mace.
With one hand, then with both, he desperately tried to get the weapon off the ground. He could feel the strain of effort create visible veins on his forehead. Eventually, he gave up. The people were already laughing. Best way to keep his pride here was to crack a joke and move on. “Looks like it may have made the wrong choice,” he said out loud and took a step back. Just to prove everyone that it was a joke, he willed the weapon to his hand.
It did obey the call. Because he was smart enough to hold his hand at an angle, the weight also didn’t make him keel over. It just rested one step removed from its original resting place. The Gar grinned. He had no use for the weapon in his personal arsenal, none of his Hand Slots were available. At worst it would make for a wonderful trophy.
“Now that all of your attention has already been gathered, I’d like to say a few words.” John blinked and looked up, seeing Maximillian on top of the stage. The gravity mage looked better than ever, his new mastery over his elent manifesting in a swirl of particles around him that was no doubt difficult to maintain and had no use besides appearances. “Unless you’re going to protest, buddy.”
“You’d hold the speech anyway,” John shouted back, causing the crowd to chuckle again.
“Right on I would,” Maximillian responded straightforwardly. Then he cleared his throat. “All of the speeches have been held already. We mourned those that have fallen and toasted to our victory. Rather than rehash all of that, I’d like to speak a few words on myself.
“I joined this coalition to help my friend. Many of you will likely have heard what happened with Alexej, back when the Blood of the Proletariat invaded Ro. On that day, I was hurt deeply and I struggled for a while, wondering how, exactly, to go from there. It was that sense of loss that mixed with a wonder if I was, perhaps, just an inferior version of my friend John here, when Reetha influenced my mind. After all, I do not open portals to other worlds or have legendary weapons fall from the sky for .
“I know many of you that were there dealt with similar, reinforced sensations of inadequacy. After all, that was how she wanted to make us passive. Amidst it all, however, I realized that this sense of irrelevance was horridly misplaced. I found my determination, not just to stand up in that mont. No, I finally found the determination to take control of my life in its entirety again, and it starts right here. Irielz, could you co up here?”
The question seed to co out of nowhere and the succubus was visibly dumbstruck. Few in the party actually knew who she was, but eventually all eyes were on her. Such was the nature of herd thinking.
After the initial surprise had settled, the black-haired succubus pulled her shoulders back. Making herself as tall as she could despite her below average height, she walked forwards. It was late in the day, the red-tint of dusk giving her light grey skin a peculiar colour. She wore a fine, black and white dress of satin, covering her hourglass curves tightly. With one beat of her (mostly) decorative bat wings, she landed on the stage. Her tail waved curiously as she walked up to her boyfriend.
The two exchanged a few short words, which the microphone did not pick up. Deliberately, the king then raised it back to his mouth. “I realized, at my lowest, that I needed to stand for who I am. Perhaps, and I can’t believe I’ll say this, I won’t be the greatest of kings or the legend of this generation. Perhaps I will just be a king and a notable person. Whatever I end up being, I’ll be the greatest at it. I want to face the future. I realized I need to stand. I realized I need to kneel before one woman.”
Maximillian let go of the microphone. It slowly sank down alongside him, while he dropped to one knee and retrieved a small box from the inside of his jacket. The small object inside sparkled in the sunlight.
Irielz covered her mouth with both hands. It was as stereotypical a reaction as it was wholeso. The succubus jumped from one foot to the other, while waiting for the question to leave Maximillian’s mouth. “I will not even try to justify whether or not this is appropriate after only a few months. There are so things that should just be. This is one of them. Irielz, will you marry ?”
“Yes!” she shouted imdiately.
End of Season 3 Arc 8.
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