Getting out of those tunnels wasn't as hard as I imagined it would be.
In truth, I had a theory. Just as Eris had seen the others flee without the guardian charging blood, maybe there existed some hidden rule there: if nothing was touched inside that place, the guardian would have no reason to kill the invader. A simple house rule — look, but don't touch.
The problem was that this theory didn't explain me.
Because I, definitely, wasn't leaving empty-handed. And, even so, the guardian simply seemed not to care. Not a step in my direction. None of those bronze eyes following my exit. In truth, as soon as we crossed, the gate made a point of closing on its own — the four stone dragons spinning back into place with the crash of a mountain settling — while the guardian just stayed there. Static. As though nothing that night had happened.
I believed in one thing: with the key in my possession, I was, probably, the only person capable of opening and closing that gate.
And, for an instant, the strategist in me complained: if I'd had that knowledge before, I should have closed the gate the moment I entered. But I shook my head the following second. Because, if I had done that… Bestaria and all the others would be on the outside. Alive. Waiting for me. My ignorance, in the end, had been my greatest luck of the night — and I preferred not to calculate how many times that had already happened.
To go up, we only needed to use the same path the guardian used to come down.
And that creature's capacity to open a crater of that size was incredible — a vertical wound in the earth, deep enough to swallow an entire tower. It was Livina who suggested the solution: the Treebeard summons. And it was fascinating to watch. Those giant trees drove their roots deep into the earth, piercing the crater wall like living stakes, anchoring their own bodies in a slow, constant climb, wooden step by wooden step of creaking. It was nearly sixty meters of ascent, which cost us a good twenty minutes — but, at least, they didn't demand of us anything beyond what we no longer had.
I filed that utility too into the silent list I kept about each of my creatures. In a world like that, knowing who digs, who climbs, and who carries was worth as much as knowing who kills.
And then, finally, we came out into the light.
And I managed to see what I feared was true.
My kingdom was a chaos.
And, even so, it was still possible to see that it breathed. Nearly a hundred Yokais held themselves outside the territory, spread across points that seemed anything but random, killing any creature that dared to appear. In truth, all it took was to run my eyes: within a radius of kilometers, the ground was sown with rotted bodies. Sucked dry. Empty husks of wayward Tyrin filled the ground of my territory, dried to the last thread of life — the kind of warning no sign could write better.
We crossed the field of husks in silence. The smell was strange — not the common rot of a battlefield, but something dry, hollow, like old straw. That way of dealing with the dead was something extremely characteristic. The Yokais wasted nothing.
"I can't explain how… but I think the Yokais managed to keep the kingdom alive while you were away, my Lord."
Morgana spoke quietly, and both she and Livina seemed as shocked as I was.
Honestly, the simple fact that the two of them were still under my influence already meant that my kingdom was alive — that was the rule. But, if they asked me how, and in what way, I wouldn't know how to answer. Until I saw the Yokais forming those protection perimeters.
And, then, I finally understood.
My summons were capable of defending the kingdom — but were incapable of doing certain things. Forming perimeters. Eliminating enemies before they became a problem. Actively seeking to protect the territory instead of just reacting to it. That was something only intelligent creatures managed to do.
And there was more: their positions overlapped. Each blind spot of one was covered by another. That wasn't instinct — it was doctrine. Someone had taught those creatures to think like an army.
And there was exactly one creature in my kingdom with such a high capacity to not only protect the territory… but to protect it with intelligence.
"My daughter did an excellent job."
My heart warmed along with the words.
✦ ✦ ✦
It didn't take long for four giant Yokais to appear on the horizon, emerging among the damaged towers — and carrying, with a care that didn't match their size, my Arachne.
My mouth opened in a smile… that died the following second.
Because, despite Arachne being alive, it was clear that the fight had charged an extremely high price from her. Five legs were missing — five interrupted stumps where there should have been the elegant step I knew. And part of her beautiful white color was torn, streaked with dark scars. She wasn't being carried out of ceremony.
She was being carried because she could no longer walk.
And, even so, her eyes swept the perimeter over the shoulders of the Yokais. Wounded, mutilated, carried — and still on guard. My daughter didn't know how to switch off.
I ran in her direction without thinking twice.
"Papa… You came back…"
Her voice came out small, weakened — and, before I could say anything, I was already casting healing while I grabbed one of the legs that remained. My eyes began to grow wet, and my voice came out choked, trampling the composure of a Lord I was supposed to have.
"Sorry for the delay… Thank you for taking care of the kingdom while I was away. Rest easy… I'm going to heal you."
Arachne had made countless sacrifices while I was in the nest.
Her commitment to keeping my territory out of danger was written in every wound: even hurt to the point of barely being able to walk, she still actively sought to protect something that belonged to me. And the weakened body charged the most expensive price of all — she had to let her own children protect the territory, at the cost of their bodies.
I knew how difficult it was, for her, to separate from her children. Her instinct screamed against every meter of distance.
And, even so, she did it. To save my kingdom.
"Morgana, help me here…"
Morgana arrived running, and the two of us began to spend all our energy healing Arachne.
It was a process that not even I could do in one go — after all, she was enormous, and each lost leg was a world of flesh and chitin to rebuild. When my mana finally ran out, Morgana's had already run out at least twice. And, while I healed, I felt her restlessness growing beneath my hands — her eyes searching the horizon, in the direction where the children still fought.
So I decided to act.
"Arachne… you can bring your children back. I'm going to protect the kingdom now. You've already done your part — and did it better than anyone could. Rest, daughter. Morgana, stay with her, please. Until it's finished."
Because, however much Arachne had handled everything, the moment had come for me to return to command. And to put the kingdom back on the rails.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Zeus… can you compute my strength at this moment?"
[Understood. Analyzing… Compiling.]
[ FORCE SUMMARY — SPARTA ]
[ Brutal Birman Sword — 10 units ]
[ Fire Fairy — 30 units ]
[ Mages — 40 units ]
[ Griffins — 5 units ]
[ Urskra — 4 units ]
[ Cockatrice — 1 unit ]
[ Heavy Cavalry — 3 units ]
[ Yokais — 85 units ]
[ Owl-Bear — 1 unit ]
I was in shock.
Most of the army I had was completely obliterated. So the Yokais were eighty-five — my naked-eye estimate had erred on the high side, and the exact number, cold on the screen, hurt more than the impression. The fight against the Tyrin had been difficult, I knew. But only now, reading that meager list, could I have the real notion of how difficult it had been.
Each absent line of that list was a row of faces I had equipped and fed, or even tried in every way to keep alive — but, in my absence, the numbers simply vanished, and even the Aquamarine Void had been, at some point, obliterated.
The units that survived the most, aside from the Yokais, were the mages and the fairies.
And I was almost certain of the why: the magical capacity for area damage — and, mainly, the fact that they had gathered in the towers. Blocking a small area made surviving easier: a stone funnel where each spell was worth ten. Unfortunately, the same logic didn't apply to the archers, swept away completely. Nor, most certainly, to the heavy cavalry, reduced to three mounts. Even the Brutal Birman had been reduced to a handful.
And, even so, the kingdom stayed standing.
It stayed by my daughter's capacity to, even wounded, keep reproducing units and protecting the territory at the same time — a factory and a general in the same mutilated body. The more I looked at my Arachne, the more pride I felt.
✦ ✦ ✦
I began the rounds through what had remained.
In the stable, it became clear that the Urskra were alive — but extremely wounded, lying in heaps of straw dark with dried blood. Honestly, I doubted I would find them breathing. And I was happy to be surprised. But the surprise had a culprit, and the culprit had a name: Pegasus.
My Cockatrice was now nearly three meters tall.
A Cockatrice protecting those it cares about, most certainly, made a difference. She ran upon seeing me — and I prevented her from jumping on top of me, more for my physical integrity than for hers. I was genuinely surprised with the evolution: maybe defeating so many enemies, and probably feeding on them, had done something formidable to that creature.
The feathers on her chest were stained with a red that wasn't hers — and there were new scars on her legs, thin and long, of the kind Tyrin claws leave. She hadn't only protected the stable. She had hunted.
"Thank you for protecting everyone, Pegasus."
Her eyes were no longer so childlike.
It was clear she was beginning to understand me — and, mainly, to take a side in the protection of my kingdom. Even when I wasn't there. The chick that once fit in my hands now chose sides in a war.
Even the owl-bear — always reserved, always aware of its own position — seemed happy to see me. And it was clearly fuller, and larger. Maybe it was the same menu as the Yokais': the wayward Tyrin that still wandered through the hostile territory, becoming a food stock for whoever had the stomach.
After the stable, I visited each structure, one by one.
The House of Potions intact. The Market silent, but standing. The Warehouse sealed as I had left it. The Hero's Temple, quiet in the way only it knew how to be. And, everywhere, the mages beginning to come out of the destroyed towers — timid at first, then in groups, dragging rubble, stacking stone, mending what they could while I myself directed them. A kingdom that rebuilds itself is a kingdom that decided to keep existing. And, finally… the griffins' nest.
It was there that I saw the new chicks.
When Zeus showed me the territory, I had noticed a detail: aside from the Yokais, only one of my lineages had grown — the griffins. And the chicks, despite being clearly small in relation to their peers, were visibly stronger. And that was due to my Ammit construction. The Incubator had done something magnificent, raising the level of those two — and I knew that, when they grew, they would be of much help.
The two of them observed me with that mixture of distrust and curiosity that every chick carries — and one of them, the smaller, opened its wings in a minuscule threat, chirping in a way that was cute and solemn at the same time. I swallowed the laugh. Respect is planted early.
Even the Prince seemed focused on supervising the terrain from up high.
And, from what I understood of the Yokais and the traces of the battle, it was thanks to him that Arachne knew where to position the children. It was thanks to his eyes, crossing the sky, that the defense was so successful. A general on the ground. A watchman in the sky.
The great griffin, who held himself up high, descended at a dash upon hearing the chirp of the little one — and, upon seeing me, prostrated himself.
"My Lord… You came back."
"Thank you, Prince… Mainly for helping my daughter."
The griffin just raised his head, his eyes getting lost in the new chicks.
"You provided me with something I never thought I would have after being captured. So… this was the minimum I could do."
The Prince was never one to speak of personal things — he focused, almost always, on being useful before anything else. But I was happy to notice that even that mask was falling, little by little. Maybe the new chicks, who saw him as a grandfather, had given something new to that old griffin. Honestly, I couldn't say what.
But I was happy.
Nearly at the end of the day, I already had the complete balance — the good news and the bad.
The good: a large part of my constructions was in perfect condition. The bad: the ones that weren't were precisely the towers. Less than half remained functional — and, even those, far from a hundred percent. Maybe the only one at full capacity was the Magic Tower… but it, alone, would never protect the entire territory. And there was more: entire stretches of the wall destroyed. And the gate simply no longer existed.
In its place, only the twisted hinges, stuck to the frame like fingers that refused to let go.
In truth, the more I saw, the more I understood why Arachne and the Prince gave up defending from inside the kingdom, behind the walls.
There were no walls.
Protecting the perimeter was much more functional. And, for that reason, it was the chosen one. My daughter hadn't only fought — she had commanded. Read the field, accepted the loss of the walls, and traded stone for strategy. I knew generals from the ancient stories who wouldn't have had that coldness.
But there still remained a problem to solve.
And that problem was, clearly, irritated at following me around the entire day.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Now that I've analyzed the territory… we can talk, Eris."
The woman before me was clearly irritated with me.
And, however much she did everything to disguise it, it didn't work: the way I had pulled her into a problem that was only mine had made me something extremely hateful in her eyes. Her face dirty with dust and a poorly slept night — and with the invisible mark the two of us carried weighing more than any armor. I understood. And, even so, there wasn't much I could do — I would never manage to survive there alone. All the more so without workers. Without supplies. Without a single ally who didn't depend on me to breathe.
"Finally… Honestly, I thought you had simply forgotten about me."
"It's quite hard to forget someone who is clearly wearing an irritated face like yours."
"And that's your fault."
Eris breathed deep. And I stopped provoking her.
"Sorry… I need your help."
The words came out along with a heavy sigh — and cost me more than any blow of the night.
"I'm sure of that. But dragging me into your problems doesn't seem to me a good way to resolve this."
I knew she was irritated. And I preferred to ignore it and get straight to the point.
"Now, the two of us need each other. Honestly, I suggest an alliance: I can protect you. And the only thing I ask is your wealth… and your influence."
If it were in my old territory, I would simply keep myself downcast, invisible, while I strengthened myself in the dark. For that, I wouldn't have needed to do what I did with her.
Unfortunately, there, in that place, I had no capacity at all to do anything — except depend on external help.
There was also a determining factor for my attitude.
Others would come. I had not the slightest doubt that the information about what everyone supposed to be a nest wouldn't stay hidden forever — at some point, someone would talk, even without wanting to. And, after that, the news would spread like a disease. That wouldn't be important… if the coveted place were far from my territory.
Except it wasn't.
In truth, by my calculations… my kingdom was right on top of that nest.
What I needed was strength to protect my territory. And it wasn't just a question of dealing with Burmans — we were talking about other races, each one with its own reasons to take that place by force.
"But how do you intend to beat Wignall's followers? Honestly… those sons of bitches who fled will, at some point, think about coming back. All the more when they see me alive."
She had a point.
And the problem was greater than she imagined: I couldn't leave there. Putting Eris in the middle meant that I would have to stay in that place, protecting her, while she didn't pass through her own Purge. She was my lifeboat… and, at the same time, the termite in my wooden boat. I needed her alive to get capital and items — to grow and become capable of protecting myself. And, exactly because of that, I would have to stay there, defending that piece of ground against everything and everyone.
An anchor and a lifesaver tied to the same rope. The Oasis loved that kind of joke.
"What I need from you is capital. Let ME deal with them. Try to warn your relatives and, if possible, get me materials to rebuild the wall. We're going to get through this."
I knew Eris was angry about what I did.
But I also knew she wasn't dumb enough to not understand her own situation: after having been in the nest, she was a target. None of those who fled would let her live. Honestly, I thought she still had a kingdom only because everyone believed Bestaria might be alive — and the two of us knew that belief wouldn't last forever. In truth, they had probably already discovered that the Burman's kingdom was undone. Maybe we had a few days.
Maybe only hours.
In the end, we needed everything to work out.
"If you have any item that allows you to move your kingdom… I'd recommend bringing it to my side."
By the items Eris carried, I knew that money and influence weren't lacking in her family. Whether it was enough for what was coming… that, only time would tell.
"Besides… I'm going to give you some power to manage to get back safely to your kingdom."
I took the chance to transfer the Brutal Birman and the fairies — besides returning the cavalry that was hers.
Honestly, aside from the Brutals, nothing I gave was really important. But, with just those ten brutals, her strength would rise many steps. Probably, enough for her not to be slaughtered on the way home.
"Are you sure you're going to give me these Brutal Birman? They're extremely strong."
"Of course I am. As long as you're alive, I'll be too. I'm not going anywhere."
"Thank you… I'm going to ask for the family item and move close to you… Thank you. Again."
And, after long hours of nervousness, finally a smile appeared on her face — followed by tears.
I knew what that was. It wasn't gratitude for the soldiers, nor relief for the escort. It was the reflection of something that she, probably, was afraid of having lost forever.
Hope.
"Come back fast… We need to be together to survive the trial that's coming."
Eris just agreed — and left my territory through the same place she had entered so many other times.
✦ ✦ ✦
Livina, who had followed everything without saying anything, finally spoke.
"Do you trust her, Lord?"
"I don't need to trust her, Livina. I just trust that she's going to do everything to not die — and, in the situation she's in, I'm the only person capable of keeping her alive. That's enough for me."
The two of us stayed watching the woman run with her own army, desperate, back to her kingdom — until she vanished on the horizon.
I knew the problems would arrive. All of them, one after another: Wignall's followers, the noble Burmans with my mark in their scent, the races that would seek the nest, and the master of the house himself, sleeping down below. But I also felt something new, firm, settled at the bottom of my chest.
I was prepared for everything.
"And what are you going to do while she doesn't come back?"
Livina's question finally pulled me from the torpor.
And her words made me remember something simple: I was no longer the same one who entered that nest. I opened my status and let my eyes descend to the new lines.
[ … ]
[ Incorporated soul of Vo'ruun: ]
[ — Voice of Command (Legendary) ]
[ — Hard Skin (Legendary) ]
[ — Blood Trail (Legendary) ]
[ — Affinity with Magic (Unique) ]
[ — Power of Inheritance (Unique) ]
[ … ]
"I'm going to try to figure out how to use the power that was granted to me."